‘If it’s true,’ said Powerscourt, resisting with difficulty the urge to walk up and down the little reception area, ‘then Connolly must have paid up, in whatever currency the thieves were dealing in. His deadline must have arrived too. How very interesting. Any other news, Lucy?’
‘Only this, Francis: Young James has disappeared from Butler’s Court. Everybody is very worried about him. They think Young James might have been taken hostage too.’
‘Don’t think he’s close enough to the family to warrant a kidnapping. Distant cousin, isn’t he? How very curious.’
‘If you think you might have found the women, Francis, does that mean that you are closer to solving the mystery?’
Powerscourt laughed bitterly. ‘I don’t think I’m ever going to get to the bottom of this one, my love.’
Their conversation was interrupted by a great shout from the doorway. ‘Lady Lucy! By God, here you are in Leenane! This calls for a celebration!’ Johnny Fitzgerald embraced Lady Lucy and disappeared briefly to order some refreshments. When he came back he looked cheerful. ‘They’ve got some Pomerol in this place, who would have thought such a thing. I’ve ordered a couple of bottles in case the first one’s a fluke if you follow me. Now then, Lady Lucy, was it the scenery that brought you here to this place, or have you other intentions?’
She explained that she had come in the carriage that was to bring the Ormonde women home, that her role was to provide company and conversation on their long journey back.
‘Three women cooped up in one of those posh carriages,’ said Johnny, ‘probably be able to talk non-stop all the way to Dublin. Seriously though, Francis, I have some news. When you were off showing our aristocratic friend the lodge I went off on a great loop round that lake in front of the house. I went behind the hill, if you follow me, and then I crept down through the wood opposite Butler Lodge. Amazing view you have up there.’ Johnny sounded like a recent convert to the beauties of nature. ‘The lake in front of you, the lodge sitting on its lawn like a doll’s house, that bloody great hill shooting up behind it. Anyway, what do you think I saw? Two ladies walking about the lawn escorted by one young man of about twenty, I should think.’
‘Good God!’ said Powerscourt. ‘So we were right. They are there.’
‘How did they look, Johnny?’ asked Lady Lucy. ‘Did they seem to have been maltreated in any way? Did they look pale?’
‘They looked fine to me,’ said Johnny. ‘They were laughing with their young guard at one point as a matter of fact.’
‘Were they now,’ said Powerscourt, remembering somebody in South Africa telling him how captives often grew close to their captors. Maybe this happened in Butler Lodge too. Maybe the ladies were just looking after their own interests by charming the young men.
There was another arrival at their table. The Major was introduced to Lady Lucy and gazed at the Pomerol in astonishment. ‘Good God! Did you bring that stuff with you, Johnny?’ he asked.
‘No,’ said Johnny cheerfully, ‘there’s a heap of it here in the cellars. It’s in pretty good shape. You’d better try some.’
‘Now then, Lady Powerscourt, Powerscourt, Johnny,’ the Major was making his report, ‘I bring news from the front. I stayed at my post rather longer than I intended, I must confess. Thought I might catch a sight of some of the damn fish the lodge was built for but no luck. Wrong time of year. My chaps went through their full routine of crawling about on their bellies, shinning up trees without making a noise, the usual tricks. They report a total bag of five or maybe six, all aged about twenty or so, all carrying out various tasks inside the house. My most expert wallah, fellow by the name of Healey, claimed he heard one of the villains complaining he’d been made to do the cooking three days in a row. Didn’t hear the reply.’
Powerscourt told the Major about the sighting of the two women on the lawn.
‘Fillies in the paddock, eh? That’s damned good work. Now then, Powerscourt, your show here, of course, do you have a plan for tomorrow?’
Powerscourt did indeed have a plan taking shape in his mind for tomorrow but he was not going to mention it at this point or in this company. ‘Yes and no,’ he said, ‘Sorry for such an Irish reply. Do you have any suggestions, Major?’
‘Well,’ said the Major, rubbing his hand together, ‘I can’t see a way round the women and that’s a fact. My natural instinct, as taught by those clever chappies in the Staff College, would be to infiltrate the place. Trooper at every window, rifles drawn, pack of seven or eight lined up at the front door. Stand and deliver. Under normal circumstances that should loosen their bowels all right, the damned Paddies, all come out with their hands up demanding a glass of Guinness, that sort of thing. But it wouldn’t work with the fillies inside unable to flee the coop.’
‘Do you think they’ll try to make a run for it, Francis, now they know we’re here?’
‘Would you, Johnny?’ Powerscourt replied.
‘I think I would,’ said Johnny, emptying another glass of rich red wine. ‘The longer they stay, the more heavily the odds are stacked against them.’
‘I’m not sure,’ said the Major, screwing an elaborate monocle into his right eye for a closer inspection of the wine bottle’s label, ‘that it makes any difference if you have fifty fellows camped outside their front door or five hundred. As long as they have the fillies they hold the ace of trumps.’
‘I wonder if they’re waiting for something,’ said Powerscourt, ‘the day of the deadline perhaps. I forgot to tell you, I haven’t been able to find a single person here who speaks Irish and could translate that message we intercepted. There’s a bloody menu in Irish, for God’s sake, at least I presume it’s Irish. Hardly likely to be written in Bulgarian out here. There’s a helpful page written in what I presume is Irish with drawings of boats and horses which I imagine is some sort of guide to the local attractions, waterborne excursions up Killary Harbour, best places to hide a couple of Protestant women, that sort of thing, but not a soul will admit to being able to translate a few sentences.’
‘I think we should put a guard on the place tonight, Powerscourt,’ said the Major, eager for action. ‘They might well try to make a run for it. Fox’s last stand, what?’
‘Please do that, try to keep the villains awake, might dull their wits tomorrow,’ said Powerscourt, and the Major marched off.
‘Do you think they know they’ve had it, Francis,’ said Johnny Fitzgerald, ‘that the game is up?’
‘I don’t think that’s how they see it,’ Powerscourt replied, ‘not yet at any rate. If Ormonde gives in to the blackmail tomorrow, then they’ve won. They leave the ladies behind and try to escape. In one sense, you see, our arrival has made the ladies’ position much safer, though I don’t know if they have worked that out yet. If they had killed them before we came and made good their escape, how could we have linked these young men to the deaths? Very difficult, if not impossible. But now they know they’re surrounded. If they kill the ladies they’ll be caught. Then they’ll hang. Even a Mayo jury would have to convict them. It’d be committing suicide. You’re not going to advance the sacred cause of Irish freedom by murdering a couple of harmless Protestant women. So why kill them? I can’t see any advantage at all, only the gallows waiting for you after a short spell in Castlebar Jail.’
‘Would you like to put that to the test by trying to storm the place tomorrow?’ Lady Lucy sounded very serious.
‘I would not,’ replied her husband.
‘I’m just going to sort something out in our room, Francis,’ said Lady Lucy, ‘and maybe I should dress for dinner. I’m sure they always do here in Leenane. I’ll see you both in a little while.’
Powerscourt took his friend out into the little garden that looked over the water. A stone nymph was blowing water on to the roses. A couple of fishing boats were coming in to land at the little jetty a hundred yards to their left. Powerscourt leaned over the wall and told Johnny of his plan. Johnny looked at him closely and took a great gulp of his Pomerol. ‘If I’d known you were going to say something like that, Francis, I’d have brought the whole bloody bottle with me.’ Johnny looked out towards the mountains, brilliant with sunlight. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘of course I’ll do it. Wouldn’t do it for anybody else, mind you. Have you told Lady Lucy?’