“Well, he wouldn’t. He wanted someone to break an American Irish lad called Martin BrOsnan out of a French prison on Belle Island and me being a friend of Martin’s found it difficult to say no.” He glanced at Dillon. “And he no friend of yours, Sean. Told me he thought they’d done for you after you tried to blow up the British War Cabinet during the Gulf Var.”
“Yes, well, I w. as wearing a nylon and titanium waistcoat and it stopped the bullets,” Dillon said.
Devlin laughed. “Nine lives this one, and I taught him everything I know.” He shook his head and there was an edge to his voice. “You know something, Sean, you’re the dark side of me.”
“And you, Liam, are the good side of me,” Dillon said.
Devlin frowned for a moment and then laughed out loud. “You always did have a way with the words.” He shook his head. “Still, let’s get down to business.” THEY WENT THROUGH ALL THE INFORMATION available, and Dillon once again gave a meticulous account of the robbery and the voyage to Down on the Irish Rose. When all this was finished, Devlin sat there frowning, a cigarette irdone hand.
“All right. First of all, we don’t want the Garda on this. Sure, they could arrest Ryan, lold him until’ the Americans asked for extradition. They could even hold Kathleen and this fella Sollazo and his bully boy as accessories, but none of that matters. The only thing that does is finding the Irish Rose and making sure that gold can’t be used for the wrong purposes.”
“So what can we do?” Hannah asked. “I mean, if Barry and the Provisional IRA are in this…”
Devlin cut her off. “I don’t think so. Gerry Adams, Martin McGuinness, and Sinn Fein have a big in- z39 vestment in the peace process. Sure there’s still the problem of persuading the Provos to give up their arms, but nobody wants trouble at the moment, the politics are too finely balanced.” He shook his head.
“No, I’ll bet you a river the Provisional IRA Army Council know nothing about this.” “You mean Ban’ is in this for his own ends.’?” Hannah asked.
“Oh, no, a true patriot, Jack. My guess is he’ll play it close to his chest because he knows damn well the Army Council don’t want trouble at this stage of the political game.” “So what do you suggest, LiamT” Dillon demanded.
I’ll go and see the Chief of Staff and sound him out. I know the Dublin pub where he has a bite to eat at lunchtime every day.” “And he’ll aeg you7″‘ Hannah asked.
Devlin laughed out loud. “They all see me, girl dear, I’m the living legend and that can be very useful, but not you and the lad here.” He turned to Dillon.
“A time for peace, but there are those who see you as an apostate working for the Brits. They’d like nothing better than putting a bullet in you.” “And tlaat’s a fact.” “Take the Chief Inspector to Casey’s ir, the village.
What the English call good pub grub.” He smiled at Hannah. I’ll see you later.”
THE PUB ON ONE OF THE QUAYS ON THE LIFFEY was called the Irish Hussar, a haunt of Irish Repub- licans, and it was already half full when Liam Devlln went in just after noon. Colum O’Brien, Chief of Staff of the Provisional IRA, was sitting in a booth at the far end, a pint of Guinness at one hand and a savory-looking dish before him. He tucked a napkin below his chin.
Devlin said, “Shame on you, Colum, and you tucking into a Lancashire Hot Pot, an English dish.”
O’Brien looked up and smiled with genuine pleasure.
“Liam, you ould bastard. What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I was in town on business and a man has to eat.” A young woman came over and Devlin said, “I’ll have the same as your man here.”
“Andgive him a large Bushmills whiskey,” O’Brien said. “Only the best for Liam Devlin.”
The young woman was truly shocked. “You’.re Liam Devlin? I’ve heard of you since I was a child.