The House by the Liffey (7 page)

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Authors: Niki Phillips

BOOK: The House by the Liffey
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Chapter 9

Jack and Bertie were up really early again on Tuesday morning and they set off to search a broad area in which they believed the hideaway must lie. Once again they posed as hikers and wore backpacks. But these were backpacks with a difference, containing an impressive collection of equipment, much of it not readily available on the open market, but rather shades of things to come. Both carried neat but very powerful handguns hidden but easily accessible inside their jackets. They drove as far as they dared and then, using some of their sophisticated detection gear, they walked, traversing a wide area swiftly and methodically. By lunchtime they had covered a considerable area but with no sign of anything remotely like a dwelling, however primitive or tumbledown. They found a secluded spot in the hillside and settled down for a bite to eat, using the bracken as camouflage.

‘What time do you make it, Bertie?'

‘Just past noon.'

‘That's the time they said they'd call back with their instructions, but we're not picking up any radio signals.'

‘I know. Shame we've found nothing. We
must
be somewhere close. All the evidence points to this area.'

On the clear air a scream carried across the hills.

‘Help me. Someone hel…' the sound was abruptly cut off but there was a cry of pain.

The two men leapt to their feet.

‘Where did that come from? That was a child.'

‘Behind that hill just above us.'

They ran flat out, almost to the top and then dropped to the ground on their stomachs and crawled the rest of the way, until they could see down to the bottom of the slope the other side, where a small inconspicuous dwelling nestled into a hollow in the hillside. Because they had stopped for a break, they had only just missed it. This was fortunate for, although they had been careful to avoid being observed, they might have run straight into the group now assembled outside the door. They counted five men and, sure enough, a child. The instinct to draw their guns and rush to Izzy's rescue was strong but they were too well disciplined to attempt any such thing, which would have put the child at even greater risk. Bertie produced a Hasselblad with a very powerful telephoto lens and started to take a series of photographs. He and Jack waited until they all went back inside the cottage, then they crawled back down the slope and, using his powerful mini transmitter/receiver, Jack tried to contact Sean.

* * * * *

Just before noon Eddie had taken Izzy up the ladder into the top room. The men hadn't bothered to put on their balaclavas. They were quite confident that they would be well out of the country before they could be tracked down by any information Izzy would be able to give, either of them or the hideaway.

She wondered which of the five was nasty Bob. She shrank back against Eddie, taking huge gulps of the lovely fresh air.

‘It's all right, girleen. So long as you behave you'll be fine.'

‘She'd better or I'll deal with her. She'll wish she'd never been born.'

She recognized the voice, so now she knew which one he was: older than any of the others, he had short, straight grey hair and faded blue eyes that looked at her with venom. She was terrified but her fear was, to a small degree, tempered by being utterly outraged. On top of all she had suffered, all she had endured, this was the last straw. She managed to garner every last shred of courage she had, drew her small body to its maximum height and looked him straight in the eye, trying so hard to stop her voice from shaking.

‘You're a
nasty
person. Grandpa Tom says if you touch me you'll
die
!'

Bob turned a dirty shade of grey. Looking at his face, Eddie had the hardest time not laughing outright. Of the others, Shamus had kept well away from Izzy and after that comment moved even further away, glancing around fearfully. Jaysus, he thought, if I see that fella's ghost I think I'll wet meself. Why the hell did I get mixed up with this lot. And that poor little kid . . . !

‘We're going to call your parents. They'll want to know if you're still alive so that's why you're up here. You'll have a chance to say a few words to them but no tricks.' Mighty Mac was dangerous looking and would have frightened the bravest. Izzy said nothing.

They moved to where the radio equipment was placed for best reception. That was the moment that Izzy chose to scream her defiance.

‘Help me. Someone hel…' Willie hit her hard across the face knocking her to the ground. She cried out. Tears streamed down her face from the pain and blood ran from her lip, but before any of the others could make a more violent attack on her Eddie leapt between her and them, helped her to her feet and put his arms around her. She clung to him shaking all over, while he dabbed gently at her lip.

‘Leave her alone, all of you, or she'll not be capable of talking to her parents. In fact judging by the spirit she's shown, she might even refuse to talk to them. What'll you do then?'

Willie sneered at him.

‘I keep telling you, Eddie, you're too soft. If she won't talk I'm quite prepared to make her scream – loudly. Oh they'll know she's here all right, I promise you that!'

‘If I was too soft I wouldn't be mixed up in this whole dirty business. But I'm not cowardly enough to hit a little kid so hard as to split her lip. Look at her! She's small, she's frail and not well. She has that dreadful rash which irritates her like hell. She's been kidnapped, locked up in a foul cellar for five days, eating almost nothing and she still had enough guts to have a go at Bob. And look at you! You're nothing but an oversized, overweight bully and I just wonder if you've got a fraction of the courage she has.'

Willie raised clenched fists and started towards Eddie, but Mac hastily stepped between them.

‘Listen, lads. We mustn't quarrel between ourselves or we're lost. Just let's get on and make that call. It's past midday.'

At Riverside they were gathered around the radio transmitter/receiver when the call came.

‘Has Milo Butler got the money?'

‘Yes, I have.'

‘All of it in used sterling?'

‘Yes.'

‘Right! Take the money to Enniskerry village now and park in the town centre, close to the clock tower. You've got an hour to get there. Any sign of police or any other unusual activity and all you'll get back will be a dead body. Tell that to Sean Flynn.'

Milo's anger was beyond anything he had ever felt. His voice was almost cracking from anxiety and lack of sleep but the steely edge was there.

‘We want to speak to Izzy
NOW
or we go no further. But I promise you this. If anything happens to her I'll spend the rest of my life and every penny I have tracking you down. Then I'll kill you myself like the rabid dogs that you are.'

‘Watch it, Butler! We've only agreed to return her alive. If you make us angry she's the one who'll suffer. She'll speak to you now.'

‘Be careful, brat. One word out of place and I'll shoot you.' Izzy had no doubt whatsoever that Willie meant it.

‘Daddy, oh Daddy! I'm here.' She sounded so distressed.

‘We love you, my darling Izzy. Are you all right?'

‘I'm alive, Daddy. I keep praying that I'll soon be home with you and Mum. I keep saying our favourite psalm, the one we sang at Granny's funeral. Can I talk to Mum?'

Willie pushed her away from the radio.

‘That's enough.'

‘One hour. You should just make it in that fine big car of yours, but I suggest you move it, and remember, if you value her life, no one else. We'll be watching.'

‘How do I know I'll get my child back? How do I know you won't just take the money and run, and keep her so as to make further demands? Or maybe you'll take the money and we'll never see her again.' Milo couldn't bring himself to say “kill her”.

‘You'll find with the arrangements we've made that won't be possible.'

‘I need someone to come with me to help carry all that cash for the handover. There are four heavy bags.'

They'd obviously anticipated this stipulation.

‘Your brother – no one else.' And he'd gone.

While still distraught, there was some feeling of relief at knowing Izzy was still alive. They all were galvanized into action. Milo and Tommy hurried to collect up what they needed to take with them, Tommy so relieved to be able to do something to help. While they scurried around, Noola was talking about Izzy's brief communication.

‘What a strange comment for her to make in the circumstances, Milo. Your favourite psalm! What on earth was she talking about? I expect she's in such a state she's rambling.'

Milo stopped in his tracks. He was so taken up with getting away as fast as possible he hadn't really had time to analyse the comments.

‘Good Lord, Noola! You know what she was trying to do? She was trying to give us a hint as to where they're holding her.'

‘Whatever do you mean?'

‘She was very upset after her granny's funeral. I told her that her granny's favourite psalm was the one we sang at the funeral, the hundred and twenty-first, “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills”. I told her this was my favourite too. We read it again together. That brave little girl was trying to give us a hint as to where they're holding her. In the mountains. Would you believe that, Sean? She's confirmed what we thought.'

At that moment the call came in from Bertie and Jack.

‘We've got them Sean, and we know you've just had their call. What's the score?'

‘An hour to get to Enniskerry centre with the money.'

‘We're quite close to Enniskerry.' Jack gave him their location. ‘Lots of detailed photos too so there'll be no difficulty identifying them. When we've got the child back you can spread them all over the papers. You'll get them!'

‘Make your way to Enniskerry pronto. I'll get as close as I dare with my men but they'll be watching for us so we'll have to stay well back. I'd love to know how they're going to manage the handover and then get away, with the whole of the Dublin police force looking for them.'

They started down the hillside.

‘I wonder where their vehicle is? We know they must have one but I didn't see any sign of it.'

‘I bet they've hidden it in the trees at the turn into that track. Let's go and have a look.'

‘We haven't got too much time.'

‘Neither have they, but we're only about twenty minutes from Enniskerry. Less if I put my foot down.'

They found the van and quickly took more photos.

* * * * *

Milo drove as if Lucifer himself was on his tail, cutting corners; breaking speed limits; smearing tyre marks along the roads and once or twice almost overturning the car, but he didn't care. He kept going as fast as he could possibly manage. Blotting everything else from his mind was the image of Izzy in peril, waiting out there, needing him. Since it demanded his full concentration they spoke little, but something was bothering Tommy.

‘How did they know I was there? They must have kept a permanent watch at the entrance gates to the house. But even then how did they know who I was?'

‘Well, it couldn't have been the old tramp informant, unless in another guise he was their observer.'

‘They had the whole thing very well organized.'

‘They'd have to, Tommy, for something like this.'

‘Frightening! I'm glad we're armed. It makes me feel a lot safer. Especially knowing they're bound to be.'

And so they mused on, eventually lapsing into silence.

They reached the centre of Enniskerry with five minutes to spare and parked close to the Clock Tower. Being the early afternoon in the middle of the week, there were few people about. In fact it was quieter than Milo ever remembered seeing it. Then the wait began. More psychological torment, but they had expected something like this, designed to stress them out even further and throw them off their stride. Occasionally people strolled past, including a few hikers, not an uncommon sight here. Then, at last, a small boy knocked at the car window and Milo rolled it down.

‘I've a note here. Are yez the Butlers?'

‘Yes. Who gave it to you?'

‘Some fella gave me a shillin' to give it to yez.'

‘Thanks.'

The instructions were quite coherent, printed in a childish hand, in pencil, on exercise-book paper. It was slightly dog-eared from having been screwed up in the boy's grubby fist but still perfectly legible:

Drive to St Patrick's Church at the edge of the village. Milo Butler alone will carry two of the bags into the church. The door will be unlocked and there will be no unexpected visitors.

Milo would never know or care how they had contrived this.

Many hours had been spent planning carefully. Milo's comments to them had also confirmed what they had deduced, that he would never agree to go alone and unarmed into a remote meeting spot with all that money. So, although quiet, he would realize that the chosen venue was public enough for them not to get away too easily if they tried to do a runner, especially with Tommy, armed, outside. At the same time it was secluded enough for the necessary check. At the early planning stage, “Himself” had also warned them that if they did anything stupid, such as running with the money and killing their victim, they'd never be able to try that method of raising funds again. They'd have lost all credibility and future access to an endless source of finance for the organisation.

Milo followed the instructions and Tommy stayed leaning casually against the car, holding his gun as discreetly as possible under his jacket. He never dreamt he would be so grateful for his ability to use various weapons, started by being taught at Riverside and developed further when he joined the RAF. He was a pretty good shot and wouldn't hesitate if Milo needed him.

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