‘I hope not, Sergeant. I hope not.’ Vanbrugh looked up with a slight smile, the pipe jutting from the corner of his mouth. ‘That surprises you?’
‘It mightn’t if you explained why, sir.’
‘It’s really quite simple.” Vanbrugh put a match to his pipe and puffed out blue smoke. ‘Sean Rogan’s no criminal. He’s a political offender. That doesn’t mean I think he’s right, but it doesn’t mean that I have to agree with a system which condemns him to the same treatment as a criminal. In any case, as the I.R.A. has now officially called off its underground campaign, I don’t see how any useful purpose can be served by compelling Rogan and men like him to work out their sentences to the bitter end.’
‘I must admit it doesn’t make sense to me, sir.’
Vanbrugh nodded. ‘Which doesn’t mean that I’m not going to do my damnedest to run him down and find the men who helped him out.’
‘He must be quite a man.’
‘And then some.’ Vanbrugh nicked the match into the rain and stared into the past. T was working on special assignment in France back in “43 and Rogan was running the local underground. Someone opened their mouth and I was picked up by German Military Intelligence.’
‘Things must have looked pretty grim.’
‘There was a troop train passing through on its way to the Ruhr and they arranged for it to stop at a tiny local station called Blois to pick me up. I was escorted there by two tanks and a company of infantry. They weren’t taking any chances on the Maquis interfering.’
‘What happened?’
‘When we reached Blois, the main escort stayed outside
and I was marched into a small waiting room between two Intelligence officers who’d even taken the precaution of handcuffing themselves to me. Inside, we found Rogan in the uniform of a colonel of infantry and half a dozen of his men. They knocked my escort senseless and released me,’
‘Then what?’
‘They had an unconscious man on a stretcher, some local collaborator. Rogan took him out on the platform when the train arrived and handed him over in my place and I scrambled into a spare uniform they’d brought me. We then walked out of the waiting room past my escort, climbed into a couple of official cars and drove away. The whole thing couldn’t have lasted more than five minutes.’
‘By God, it must have taken nerve.’
‘And brains. The kind of intelligence that can always find a solution to even the most hopeless situation.’ He looked out into the driving rain. ‘That’s Sean Rogan for you.’
There was a long silence before Dwyer said, ‘So you think we might be wasting our time here, sir?’
‘We could be,’ Vanbrugh said. ‘Tell you what you do. Go back to London and see what you can find out about Soames. Try the Law Society for a start. Men who pose as solicitors have usually practised at some time in the past. Have a look through their list of members who’ve been disbarred during the past few years.’
‘And what about the other list, sir?’
‘Rogan’s old cell-mates?’ Vanbrugh nodded. ‘Have each one run down and checked. Probably nothing there, but you never can tell at this game.’
‘Very well, sir.’
As Dwyer got out of the Land-Rover and walked to his car through the rain, Vanbrugh leaned out and shouted, ‘And Dwyer!’
The Sergeant turned. ‘Yes, sir?’
‘Top priority. We haven’t got much time.’
For a moment Dwyer hesitated. It was quite obvious* that he intended to say something, but thought better of it and he turned and walked to his car. As he drove away, Vanbrugh leaned back in his seat and took out his matches again, a slight frown on his face.
Now what on earth had made him say that? Time fos what? But there was no answer, just that strange sixth sense, product of twenty-five years as a policeman that told him that there was more to all this than any of them realized. Much more.
CHAPTER TEN
RAIN hammered lightly against the window and Colum O’More turned to look outside. ‘More rain. It never seems to do anything else.’