‘All right,’ Harry Cussane said. Malone lay back, closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. ‘Anyway, as I was saying, these Mungo brothers, Hector and Angus, were the great original bastards.’
Devlin paced up and down the room restlessly. ‘Do you believe it?’ Fox asked.
‘It makes sense and it would explain a great deal,’ Devlin said. ‘So let’s just say I accept it in principle.’
‘So, what do we do about it?’
‘What dowe do about it?’ Devlin glared at him. ‘The effrontery of the man. Let me remind you, Harry, that the last time I did a job for Ferguson, the bastard conned me. Lied in his teeth. Used me.’
That was then, this is now, Liam.’
‘And what is that pearl of wisdom supposed to mean?’
There was a soft tapping at the French window. Devlin opened the desk drawer, took out an old-fashioned Mauser pistol, with an SS bulbous silencer on the end and cocked it. He nodded to Fox, then Devlin pulled the curtain. Martin McGuiness peered in at them, Murphy at his shoulder.
‘Dear God!’ Devlin groaned.
He opened the French window and McGuiness smiled as he stepped in. ‘God bless all here!’ he said mockingly and added to Murphy, ‘Watch the window, Michael.’ He closed it and walked over to the fire, holding his hands to the warmth. ‘Colder as the nights draw in.’
‘What do you want?’ Devlin demanded.
‘Has the Captain here explained the situation to you yet?’
‘He has.’
‘And what do you think?’
‘I don’t think at all,’ Devlin told him. ‘Especially where you lot are concerned.’
‘The purpose of terrorism is to terrorize, that’s what Mick Collins used to say,’ McGuiness told him. ‘I fight for my country, Liam, with anything that comes to hand. We’re at war.’ He was angry now. ‘I’ve got nothing to apologize for.’
‘If I could say something,’ Fox put in. ‘Let’s accept that Cuchulain exists, then it isn’t a question of taking sides. It’s accepting that what he’s doing has needlessly protracted the tragic events of the past thirteen years.’
McGuiness helped himself to a whiskey. ‘He has a point. When I was O.C. Derry in nineteen seventy-two, I was flown to London with Daithi O’Connell, Seamus Twomey, Ivor Bell and others to meet Willie Whitelaw to discuss peace.’
‘And the Lenadoon shooting broke the cease-fire,’ Fox said and turned to Devlin. ‘It doesn’t seem to me to be a question of taking sides any more. Cuchulain has worked deliberately to keep the whole rotten mess going. I would have thought anything that might have helped stop that would be worth it.’
‘Morality is it?’ Devlin raised a hand and smiled wickedly.
‘Good then, let’s get down to brass tacks. This fella, Levin, who actually saw Kelly or Cuchulain or whatever his name is, all those years ago. I presume Ferguson is showing him pictures of every known KGB operative.’
‘And all known adherents of the IRA, UDA, UVF. Anything and everything,’ Fox said. ‘That will include looking at what Special Branch in Dublin have because we swop information.’
‘The bastards would,’ McGuiness said bitterly. ‘Still, I think we’ve got a few that neither the police in Dublin nor your people in London have ever seen.’
‘And how do we handle that?’ Fox demanded.
‘You get Levin over here and he and Devlin look at what we’ve got – no one else. Is it agreed?’
Fox glanced at Devlin who nodded. ‘Okay,’ Fox said. Til ring the Brigadier tonight.’
‘Fine.’ McGuiness turned to Devlin. ‘You’re sure your phone’s not tapped or anything like that. I’m thinking of those Special Branch bastards.’
Devlin opened a drawer in the desk and produced a black metal box which he switched on so that a red light appeared. He approached the telephone and held the box over it. There was no reaction.
‘Oh, the wonders of the electronic age,’ he said and put the box away.
‘Fine,’ McGuiness said. ‘The only people who know about this are Ferguson, you, Captain, Liam, the Chief of Staff and myself.’
‘And Professor Paul Cherny,’ Fox said.
McGuiness nodded. ‘That’s right. We’ve got to do something about him.’ He turned to Devlin. ‘Do you know him?’