This Irish House (29 page)

“I think he likes you, Mum.”

“Yes, he does.”

Deirdre looked surprised. “Have you been seeing him socially?”

“Not really.”

“It's all right, Mum. You've been a widow for a long time.”

Kate shook her head. “It's more complicated than that. I'm not sure about anything right now. Learning about your da was a shock and this business with Kevin has been dreadful. Right now I want to go home, dig a hole in the sand and crawl into it.”

Deirdre held out her arms. “Poor Mum. Everything will turn out the way it's supposed to. You'll see.”

Kate hugged her daughter fiercely. “How did you get to be so smart?”

“I had a wonderful role model.”

“Bless you for that, Dee,” her mother whispered.

T
houghts of Dominick dominated Liam on his drive north. There was something not quite right about his brother. Most of the time he appeared completely normal, but occasionally his behavior veered into the irrational, even the unbalanced. The Peter Clarke situation was an example. Liam didn't know what to make of it. His instincts told him to cut a wide, clear path as far away from his brother as possible.

The seaport town of Portstewart was lovely and clean with cozy tearooms, souvenir shops, a boardwalk, air thickly scented with salt spray and curbstones painted red white and blue, Loyalist colors. Dominick had chosen this location, rabidly Protestant, because it was completely devoid of sentiment for the IRA and the last place anyone would look for one of its members.

The beach cottage stood apart, a lonely structure on the blip of a variegated shore. Of indiscriminate color, two stories with three gables and a large empty porch, its walls had been scoured and worn by sand and wind, salt and sea. The yard appeared deserted and shades covered the windows. The only evidence of life was a thin line of smoke from the chimney.

Liam pulled into the gravel driveway and turned off the ignition. He walked around to the back door. A tricycle and several hand tools lay rusted and forgotten in the yard. The steps leading to the door were as weathered as the house but in better repair.

He knocked loudly. Minutes passed. He looked around, knocked again and walked inside. The house was dim and sparsely furnished. The air was still and empty as if no one had breathed it in for some time. The floorboards creaked under Liam's feet. He walked through the back room, the kitchen, down a long hallway and up a flight of steep, uncarpeted stairs into a small bedroom, stark and severely appointed enough for a monastery. Dominick sat in the single straight-backed chair, his hands quiet in his lap. Kevin sat on the floor, his back to the wall.

“Hello, Liam,” he said softly.

Liam nodded, looked around for a place to sit and found none.

Dominick turned his gaze on his brother. “What brings you here?”

“You're a suspect in Tom McGinnis's murder.”

“How did you find out that interesting bit of information?”

“It's already news.”

Dominick shifted his eyes to another spot in the room. “Tom died of natural causes. It wasn't murder.”

“According to the autopsy, he was murdered.”

“Ah, the autopsy.” Dominick grinned. “Modern forensics certainly changes the picture, doesn't it?”

“Did you do it?”

“Let's just say I was instrumental in helping him along.”

Kevin swallowed a gasp.

Liam released his breath. “What are you doing to yourself, Dom?”

“How is Deirdre?”

“Time will tell.”

Dominick lit a cigarette, blew the smoke into a circle above his head. “What are you really doing here, lad?”

“Anderson sent me to convince you to turn yourself in. He said if you gave him the information he needed, he could help you. Your sentence could be lighter.”

Dominick's eyes narrowed and a muscle twitched at the corner of his mouth. “Did he now?”

“Aye.”

“So, Kevin, you think I should turn myself in? Give myself up to an English court with Protestant judges and lawyers and hope they do well by me?”

“Special Forces will be looking for you, Uncle Dominick. I don't want you to die.”

“Bless you, lad. Everyone dies. It's simply a matter of when.”

“You're not old enough to die.”

“No,” said his uncle. “I'm not.”

Liam swore. His voice rose. “Damn it. Are you bloody insane, Dom?”

A flash of anger broke through the younger man's calm. “What's it to you, Liam? You're the one who freed Peter. We would have been home free without you.”

“There's no proof you had anything to do with Peter Clarke. You were wearing a mask.”

“Deirdre knows.”

Liam shook his head angrily. “She didn't see you. No jury will convict on such flimsy evidence.”

“I won't give them a chance.”

“They have you on the McGinnis murder, Dom. You'll be a marked man. Even the Republic won't keep you.”

“I'll take my chances.”

“Have it your way.” Liam stood. “I'll be going and I'm taking Kevin.”

Dominick's gaze slid from his brother to his nephew. “Kevin stays with me. I'll return him later.”

Liam froze. Fear slowed his heart. It was an effort to breathe. Seconds passed. One minute. Two. Finally his heart resumed its regular rhythm. “Kevin's expected back.”

Dominick's voice was sharp, edgy. “When did you become such a rule follower, Liam?”

“When you went over the edge.” his brother shot back. “Come along, Kevin. We're finished here.”

“Stay where you are, lad,” ordered Dominick. “We don't want this to get ugly.”

“I'm taking the boy, Dom.”

Dominick reached into his pocket and pulled out a pistol. He leveled it at his brother. “Kevin stays with me.

“Do you expect me to believe that you would use that on us, Dom?” Liam scoffed.

Dominick laughed and the frightening, unbalanced sound of it stopped the blood flow in Liam's veins.

“I'm a desperate man,” said Dominick.

“Don't do this, Dom,” Liam pleaded. “For God's sake. He's Patrick's son.”

“Patrick.” Dominick's voice carried a tender, regretful note and for a minute, Liam thought he'd reconsidered. But then he shook it off and his face hardened again. “He's my only chance. Without him I'll be on the queen's dole for the next thirty years.”

“You'll add kidnapping to the rest of your charges,” Liam said.

“Nothing's worse than murder.”

“Haven't you done enough to Kate?”

“There's truth to that, Liam,” Dominick said. “More than you know.”

Neither man noticed that Kevin was no longer sitting on the floor. “What have you done to my mother?” he demanded.

“Leave it, Kevin,” Liam warned him and turned back to his brother. “Go now, Dominick, while we're here.”

Kevin walked across the room to stand beside Dominick. His hands were clenched. “Tell me what you've done to my mother.”

Sanity returned to Dominick. “Settle yourself, lad. It was no more than an expression. I meant nothing more than what was kept from her when your father was alive.”

Relieved, Liam sighed. “Let's go, Kevin.”

“Kevin stays.”

Liam was frantic. “Be reasonable. You can't hide the boy. They'll be looking for him. You'll be better off alone.”

Dominick's hand tightened on the gun. “I won't hurt him as long as he's cooperative. He'll have a bit of coin to call his mother when I've crossed the border.”

Liam started forward.

“Stay back, Liam,” Dominick said softly. “I said I wouldn't hurt Kevin. I'll do what I must with you. I haven't forgotten that you betrayed me.”

“For Christ sake, Dom. I did it to save you.”

“I'm not saved, am I, Liam?”

“I didn't know you'd murdered Tom McGinnis.”

“You know it now.”

“Aye.” Liam backed away. “But I don't know you, Dom. Something's happened to you. You're not my brother.”

“I imagine there's more than a bit of relief in that knowledge, isn't there, Liam?”

“I pity you.”

“Save it, lad,” Dominick said, “and give my regards to Kate. Tell her I'll return her son when I'm safely out of the Six Counties.”

“Take me instead,” Liam said.

“Don't be a wanker, Liam. You're not important enough. Special Forces will have us marked, trussed and sewn up in body bags before the cocks crow. Now, the lad here is different. They'll be using kid gloves with our Kevin.” He smiled engagingly at Kevin. “You don't mind helping out your uncle, do you, lad?”

Liam held his breath, praying that the boy would say nothing to antagonize Dominick.

Kevin swallowed and shook his head.

Liam relaxed and gave himself up to the inevitable. “Do you want me to wait until you've gone?” he asked.

“Not at all. I want you to drive back to Belfast immediately and tell Neil Anderson that I've got Kevin and if he wants him back in one piece, he's to allow me to leave Northern Ireland with the papers you'll supply for me.”

“Is that all?”

“Aye.” Dominick ran his free hand through his thick hair, a habit carried over from childhood. “I've no demands, if that's what you mean.”

“Where will you go?”

“Immediately or in the end?”

“In the end.”

Dominick shrugged. “I've no real plans. Away from Ireland, I think. I've no real stomach for the place anymore.”

Liam nodded. “Take care of the lad, Dom. Don't take risks.”

Dominick nodded. “Go along with you, now. The traffic home is a bugger.”

Liam held out his hand to Kevin. When the boy took it, he pulled him into his arms for a hard, brief hug. “Take care of yourself, Kevin. Be smart,” he said, pulling away and walking quickly out of the room, down the hall, out the back to the car parked in the gravel driveway.

Neil Anderson swore. His eyes blazed black and the pencil he carried snapped in his hand. He walked to the window, pushed the blinds aside and stared out at the rainy world that was Belfast. He waited a full five minutes, enough time for the white-hot rage consuming him to settle a bit, before addressing Liam.

“I didn't think he would use Kevin. Was there no other way?”

“You should know the answer to that,” Liam replied patiently. “If there was any possibility of taking Kevin with me, I would have. He's my nephew, my blood.” “I could accuse you and your brother of orchestrating this between you.”

“I wanted no part of it,” Liam reminded him.

“I told you Dominick isn't himself.”

“Would he harm his own nephew?”

“I don't know.”

“Good Lord.” Neil passed his hand over his face. “How am I going to tell Kate?”

Liam remained silent.

“My instincts are good, Nolan. I don't believe you're part of this. What I want from you now is information. How unstable is your brother?”

“I don't understand.”

“Will he harm the boy if we go after him?”

“I don't know.”

“Would he have harmed you?”

“Possibly. That's why I left without Kevin. I can't predict what Dominick will do. He's feeling trapped. Trapped animals strike.”

Neil sighed. “It doesn't matter. We've no choice but to go after him, now more than ever. Any suggestions as to how I should break this news to the boy's mother?”

“Tell her the truth, straightaway. Don't he to her. Kate doesn't beat about the bush. She'll forgive anything except a lie.”

Neil's glance was curious, speculative. “Did your brother know that?”

Liam nodded. “He knew Katie better than anyone. But he had trouble measuring up, if you know what I mean.”

Neil most definitely knew what he meant. He was feeling a bit overwhelmed himself. He picked up his jacket. “She'll be at the hospital.”

Liam nodded. “Better to get it over with.”

Neil pulled into the hospital car park, set the brake and walked through the door of the Royal Victoria Hospital.

The smile Kate gave him when he entered Deirdre's room turned his heart inside out. She held out her hand and he went straight to her. She looked younger, more relaxed than he'd ever seen her. This was what she must have been like before worry and tragedy had etched the wariness around her eyes.

“How is the patient?” he asked.

Deirdre smiled shyly. “Much better. Thank you for everything you've done.”

“I'm pleased that it worked out the way it did. Peter's a good lad and very worried about you.”

Deirdre blushed. “He's a good friend.”

“When will you go home?”

“The doctor says tomorrow if I feel strong enough.” She turned impossibly blue eyes on her mother. “I feel strong enough now.”

“Another day won't hurt you,” said a voice from the door.

Deirdre's face lit up. “Grandda. Did you come back all the way from Ardara?”

John O'Donnell walked across the room and caught his granddaughter in a tight embrace. “I came when I heard you were hurt. I'd walk to the moon to see you, lass. You know that.”

Deirdre clung to him for a long time. Laughing, she finally pulled away. “I'm fine, Grandda. Really I am. Thanks to Uncle Liam.”

John's eyebrows drew together over eyes as blue as his granddaughter's. “It's glad I am to hear that the Nolan brothers are good for something.”

“Da,” Kate broke in hurriedly. “I don't think you've officially met Neil Anderson.”

John straightened and offered his hand. “Pleased to meet you,” he said stiffly.

Neil smiled and shook the older man's hand. “The pleasure is mine. I've heard a great deal about you from your grandson. He admires you very much.”

“Does he now?”

“Absolutely.”

John began to thaw a bit and a glint of humor appeared in his eye. “Did you ever hear what happened to the B-Specials, Mr. Anderson, the last time they were seen in Belfast?”

“I can't say that I have.”

“You don't say.” John stroked his chin. “I would have thought, in your line of work, you would have heard the story.”

“Tell me now.”

“No, Da,” Kate protested. “Neil hasn't the time right now. He just stopped in to see Deirdre. I'll walk him out while you, two, visit.”

“Goodbye, Mr. Anderson. We'll have a bit of craic and a pint or two the next time.”

“Was he speaking English?” Neil asked when the door closed behind them.