Death in the Burren (18 page)

“Oh yes, we know all about that, Andy. Your friend has done a very good job on the exit door. Very thorough I would say. There’s no question of us doing anything in that direction. You have my word of honour on that.”

“That’s fine then, I didn’t think you would be that stupid.”

McAllister was seized with panic. “This is a right mess,” he thought, “now I’m caught both ways. If I don’t do something Considine will make his way around here and there is nowhere I can hide. Literally nowhere! That’s it then, I’ll have to get the gun from him before Considine comes up behind me!”

He hoped and prayed that the food would arrive soon and that he would make his break. There was nothing else for it!

He could feel himself breaking into a cold sweat and listened, as he had never listened before, for the sound of Considine’s possible approach. He trembled all over and wondered if he, or his luck, would hold out.

“Good God, please make something happen. Please hurry them up. I can’t stand this much longer.” McAllister willed the food to arrive, as he had never willed anything so strongly in his life.

His head was beginning to burst with tension when he heard a faint footstep. Relief flooded over him when he suddenly asked himself, “Is the sound coming from over the bridge or is this Considine?”

It was difficult to tell.

McAllister stiffened and looked back, and then he heard the voice.

“Here we are now, Andy. We have some sandwiches and coffee for you. Where do you want the young girl to leave them?”

It was the ever soothing voice of Sergeant Casey.

“T
ELL HER TO COME TO THE BRIDGE,
then get down on her hands and knees. She can push the food towards me as she crawls over I don’t want anybody sneaking up on me behind her.”

“That’s no problem, Andy. She’ll do that for you alright. When do you want her to go over?”

“Now! Come on, send her now.”

McAllister peeped out cautiously and saw a young girl with a food tray appear from a turn in the cave some distance beyond the bridge. She was dressed in jeans and a sweater, and approached very slowly.

When she reached the bridge she did as O’Lochlen had said and got down on her hands and knees. Then, placing the tray in front of her, she pushed it towards O’Lochlen as she crossed over. It must have been very uncomfortable, as the bridge had a metal grid surface, which ground into her hands and knees.

When the girl had come within a few feet of O’Lochlen’s side, he instructed her to push the tray as far as possible towards him, and then make her way back as she had come, on her hands and knees.

She turned back, and O’Lochlen reached out for the tray.

McAllister knew he would never get a better chance than this!

He moved boldly, and as quietly as he could, towards the preoccupied O’Lochlen, keeping close in to the wall.

It looked good, just a few more metres and he would make his rush. O’Lochlen loomed larger, and was still totally engrossed in pulling the tray towards him, while pointing the gun in the direction of the retreating girl.

“This is it!” McAllister thought, and braced himself for the final spring.

He lunged at his quarry, putting every remaining ounce of his energy into the effort, but O’Lochlen’s sixth sense was very acute. As he ran at his opponent, McAllister was dismayed to see him turn sharply around.

“You bastard!” O’Lochlen’s voice rang out, as the gun went off.

A sudden pain cut into McAllister’s leg and it buckled under him.

He fell to the ground just inches short of O’Lochlen.

“Where the hell did you come from, you bloody swine.”

McAllister could only gasp in pain, with the barrel of the gun pointing straight into his face.

“What are you doing, Andy?” Sergeant Casey’s voice was urgent.

O’Lochlen pushed the gun against McAllister’s cheek bone and glanced back towards the voice.

“Is this one of your tricks, Casey?”

“Tricks, what do you mean. Why did you fire the gun?”

“This bastard McAllister tried to rush me from behind and you set me up. Didn’t you?”

“No, I swear I didn’t. Which McAllister is that? Did you hurt him?”

“I told you not to bullshit me, Casey. You know McAllister, the one who has been following me and messing me up ever since he came down here. But now I’ve finally got him, and your little scheme has blown up in your face. Hasn’t it?”

“I swear to God I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Casey lied.

He must have known, from the young man who had guided McAllister in, that he was in the cave system, somewhere.

“He didn’t have anything to do with me being here,” McAllister gasped at O’Lochlen.

“You just shut your mouth and get over there beside her. I’ll deal with you later.” Then he shouted, “Hurry up with that helicopter, Casey. I’m running out of patience.”

“It’s coming. It’s coming. Is Mr. McAllister alright?”

“Oh, he’s alright - for the moment. I just winged him.”

McAllister crawled over beside Patsy and they exchanged reassuring glances. Having had a chance to look at his leg he could see that O’Lochlen was correct. Despite the pain it appeared to be only a surface wound, and he could move it around.

“You okay?” he whispered to Patsy.

“Yep, could be better, but I’m fine,” she whispered back.

O’Lochlen swung the gun at them. “No talking. Nothing. Do you hear me?”

Then he added, “Where did you come from, if Casey didn’t put you up to it?”

McAllister was about to reply when Considine suddenly appeared.

“What’s going on?” he asked. Then taking in the whole picture, he saw McAllister on the ground beside Patsy.

“Where did he spring from?”

“I don’t know how he got here, but he nearly nailed me and I had to put a bullet into him.”

“I see, so what’s the position?”

“The Gardaí are down the passage there. Sergeant Casey from Lisdoonvarna is with them and I’ve told him to get a helicopter, fast. He said they’re getting one.”

“Where did you get that tray?”

“They sent it over to me.”

Considine took some sandwiches and wolfed them down.

They both ate in silence for a while. McAllister and Patsy could only look on with envy.

“I think it would be better if you went back down the cave a bit and found a suitable spot to keep a lookout in case they try anything on. I don’t want another fright like that.” O’Lochlen beckoned at McAllister.

“I suppose so.” Considine agreed.

“Not too far away. Keep within shouting distance. I’ll let you know when Casey has the helicopter.”

“Okay.” And with that Considine loped off, back towards the “Waterfall”.

O’Lochlen continued to eat, and a silence settled over the situation. McAllister and Patsy exchanged reassuring smiles. It was a comfort to him to have her there. Somehow, he felt, that with Patsy around everything would turn out for the best. He could never imagine her being on the losing side.

McAllister’s knee had bled a little, but that seemed to have stopped now, and he reckoned he had been very lucky.

That part of the Aillwee cave where they were positioned had a feature of impressive natural beauty. It was called the “Cascade”.

The bridge, with it’s metal guard rail, guided visitors close to one wall, and from there they could get a superb view across the cave, of a sheet coating of calcite on the rock opposite. This oozed out from the rock wall at a point just below the level of the cave floor and fell dramatically into a deep pit. The centuries old trickle of water had shaped the calcite deposits in such a way that they now simulated the falling action of the water itself, in this unique frozen cascade. To highlight the scene it was lit by a number of spotlights.

McAllister rested his painful back muscles against the wall and took stock of the situation. The best he and Patsy could hope for would be a trip in the helicopter, and then being dumped in some remote location, when they were no longer needed as hostages.

But he also knew that things very rarely worked out that simply and, on the balance of probabilities, something would happen to cause a flare up, and then God knows what O’Lochlen would do.

He was, after all, like a cornered rat with only his hostages to save him from the Gardaí.

Patsy still lay spread-eagled and McAllister wondered why O’Lochlen didn’t make him lie like that. He may have assumed the bullet wound had taken care of McAllister’s mobility but, as far as he could now tell, it had been very minor, possibly no more than a graze.

Casey and his cohorts had made no further attempt to communicate with O’Lochlen, there was no point.

Had they worked out some way of keeping the scene under observation?

McAllister wondered if the Gardaí were seriously attempting to get a helicopter. He hoped they were, because O’Lochlen would go berserk if he felt Casey was just stringing him along.

He felt a gentle nudge at his arm. It was Patsy. She had turned her face towards him and was jerking her head back as best she could. After a while McAllister realised she was indicating towards O’Lochlen.

McAllister glanced over.

O’Lochlen was nodding off to sleep!

He too was sitting in an upright position, against the opposite wall, just like McAllister, but his head was over to one side and his eyes were closed.

McAllister looked at Patsy, frowned and shook his head, to indicate that it would be premature to assume O’Lochlen was actually asleep.

He pretended to close his eyes, but kept his captor under very close scrutiny. There was no move whatsoever from O’Lochlen and after some time McAllister was certain that his breathing had become deep and regular. Perhaps the food had lulled him.

“John, I think this is our chance.” It was Patsy’s whisper.

McAllister looked at her doubtfully. “Do you really think so?” he whispered back.

“It looks good to me. There’s nothing would give me more pleasure than to lift that pest up over my head and shake him until he fell apart.”

McAllister could not resist a smile. Good old Patsy! Now that she saw a chance the indomitable spirit had instantly returned, and she was ready to steamroll the situation. He pictured her shaking O’Lochlen over her head like some female King Kong, but he could also think of less genteel ways of putting an end to Mr. O’Lochlen’s career - whatever it was.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he continued to whisper.

“It’s now or never.” Patsy urged him on. “If we lose this chance we could be in for a nasty time, God knows what.”

McAllister summed up their chances. They had only to get to their feet and then make one almighty rush at O’Lochlen. Together they would easily deal with him before he could use the gun.

He decided to test if O’Lochlen was really asleep, and coughed.

No reaction!

“All set?” Patsy whispered.

McAllister nodded.

Carefully, and painfully slowly, they both eased themselves into standing positions, all the while staring, as if transfixed, at the sleeping O’Lochlen. He never moved!

Then, steeling themselves, they both prepared to spring, with Patsy just behind McAllister.

O’Lochlen’s head suddenly hung forward onto his chest as his back muscles became more relaxed. They hesitated momentarily.

“Let’s do it.” Patsy breathed urgently into McAllister’s ear.

“Right!” he whispered, leaned forward and partly extended his arms, ready for the leap at O’Lochlen.

“Everything is going fine, Andy. We’ll have your transport in no time at all, now.” Sergeant Casey’s voice bellowed from around the corner.

“Oh Christ!” McAllister swore as he saw O’Lochlen jerk back to consciousness, startled by the sudden announcement.

Nonetheless he was committed and made his charge across the cave.

But O’Lochlen had been alerted and managed to raise the gun.

Two events followed simultaneously.

McAllister connected with O’Lochlen, with all the strength at his command, and the gun went off almost directly in his face. He felt a sickening thud as O’Lochlen’s head cracked into the rock wall and was partly stunned himself by the blast of the gunfire.

The two men sank to the floor, O’Lochlen unconscious and the shocked McAllister lying across him.

He quickly realised, however, that the bullet had missed him, this time.

Relieved and elated, McAllister dragged himself to his feet, away from the stricken body of O’Lochlen and, looking around, saw, on one side, the terrified Considine gaping from down the cave, and, on the other, Casey, and a group of his men, charging towards them.

“Good old Patsy,” he thought, “she has steered me in the right direction again.” He turned back to put his arms around her and hug her in relief, now that their ordeal was over.

But she was nowhere to be seen!

McAllister frowned and called out her name, “Patsy,” as he looked all about.

“There, she’s down there!” Casey cried out and pointed, as he rapidly approached.

McAllister looked where he was indicating, over the guard rail into the cascade.

He went rigid as he stared into the pit. His blood chilled and a pain seized his heart at what he saw.

There, at the bottom of the “Cascade”, lay Patsy, on her back, her body twitching faintly, her mouth open and, her eyes staring upwards.

Blood oozed from a hole in the side of her head, and down onto the glistening rocks on which she lay.

This horrific, searing, numbing, tableau would forever be burned into McAllister’s mind.

The frozen cascade, growing imperceptibly, as it would continue to do for countless centuries to come, and the dying body of Patsy McBride laid out at it’s base.

The lifeless living, and the still living lifeless.

McAllister knew his world had changed radically in this instant, and that he would never be the same person again.

D
UBLIN’S TRAFFIC AT FIVE THIRTY IN THE EVENING
can be very heavy in the vicinity of St. Stephen’s Green, and this evening was an instance. Buses, cars and an assortment of commercial vehicles jostled for position with each other, and lane hopping was the order of the day. But add to that, in mid August, a sprinkling of confused, motorised, tourists, with their map wielding, front seat companions and you have a recipe for real confusion - a situation in which a taste for brazen brinkmanship invariably wins the day.