Carter slapped Wallace’s forehead with his open palm. “I don’t care if they’re fucking leprechauns. You’re drawing attention. How many times have you been at that shop today?”
Wallace scowled. “A couple, that’s all. I’m sick of sitting around that bloody house all day.”
“You’ll sit wherever I fucking tell you to sit. Understand?”
Wallace sighed and nodded.
Carter leaned in close. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir.”
“All right.” Carter stepped away. “Now get back in the house. Go on, double.”
Wallace trotted away towards the gate.
Carter stood with his hands on his hips, watching him go. Then he looked in each direction along the street.
Ryan froze when Carter’s gaze settled on the cluster of ivy at the top of the wall above. The Englishman stepped onto the road, squinting. Ryan held his breath.
Carter shook his head, spat on the ground, and followed Wallace towards the house. Ryan let the air out of his lungs.
CHAPTER FORTY TWO
“I can’t reach him,” Haughey said, his voice crackling in the telephone’s earpiece.
A soft ache settled behind Skorzeny’s forehead. “What do you mean?”
“What I mean is he hasn’t been at the hotel since yesterday. Fitzpatrick, his boss, tried Gormanston Camp, and he hasn’t been back there since all this started. I even had my secretary call that shop his father owns in Carrickmacree, she pretended to be his sweetheart, and they’ve seen no sign of him. In short, I don’t have a baldy notion where the fucker is.”
Skorzeny drummed his fingers on the desktop. “Minister, I don’t believe I can stress the urgency of speaking with Lieutenant Ryan enough. This letter changes the nature of the work he is doing for us, and more importantly, the nature of the enemy we face.”
“You face, Colonel.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“We don’t face any enemy,” Haughey said. “That letter was addressed to you and nobody else. Your enemies are your own.”
“Trust me, Minister, you do not want to be one of them.”
“Likewise, Colonel. Think twice before threatening me. I can make Ireland a very cold house for you and your kind. But let’s not go down that road just yet. No need to fall out over Lieutenant Ryan. I’m sure he’ll turn up before too long.”
Skorzeny returned the receiver to its cradle and rang the hand bell.
Esteban entered and lifted the telephone. He went to leave, but Skorzeny said, “Wait.”
He sat silent for a few seconds, thinking, before he said, “Fetch my coat, Esteban. I need to drive to the city.”
The woman asked, “Is Celia expecting you?”
“No, madame,” Skorzeny said.
She smiled at the courtesy. “Well, you’d better come in. You can wait in the parlour.”
He followed her through the hall and into the room.
“I won’t be a minute,” she said, and left him there.
She returned two minutes later. “Here she is.”
Celia entered. She stopped, one foot in front of the other, when she saw Skorzeny.
“Miss Hume,” he said.
Celia did not reply.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” the landlady said.
“No,” Celia said. “I’d rather you stayed.”
The landlady hesitated.
“It is a private matter,” Skorzeny said.
Celia gave a polite smile. “Even so, I’d rather Mrs. Highland stayed. Please sit down.”
The girl sat in the armchair opposite. Mrs. Highland took the other chair. Skorzeny remained standing.
After seconds of silence, Mrs. Highland asked, “Would you like a cup of tea, mister … Pardon me, I didn’t quite get your name.”
“No thank you,” Celia said. “Colonel Skorzeny doesn’t need anything.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Highland folded her hands in her lap. When no one else spoke, she said, “Changeable weather we’re having, isn’t it?”
They both ignored her.
“What did you want to see me about, Colonel Skorzeny?”
“Our mutual friend,” he said, taking a seat on the couch. “Lieutenant Ryan. I need to speak with him urgently, but I have been unable to reach him. I hoped you might know of his whereabouts.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t.”
Skorzeny fixed his gaze on the girl. “I must stress, Miss Hume, how important my business with Lieutenant Ryan is.”
“Again, I don’t know where he is. I am sorry, but that’s all I can tell you.”
He pinned her with his eyes. She looked to her lap. “Miss Hume, I will spare no effort — no effort at all — in finding Lieutenant Ryan. Do you understand my meaning?”
He watched her throat tighten, her hands tremble.
“I spoke with Albert yesterday. He told me he had to go away for a day or two. For work. He wouldn’t tell me where or what for. That’s all I know.”
Mrs. Highland watched the girl’s fingers knotting together.
Skorzeny leaned forward. “Miss Hume, if you have neglected to tell me something, I will be most disappointed.”
Mrs. Highland stood. She spoke with a tremor in her voice. “Mister … I’m sorry, what was your name?”
“Skorzeny,” he said, also standing. “Colonel Otto Skorzeny.”
“Mr. Skorzeny, I don’t think I like your tone. I don’t know what your business here really is, but Miss Hume is under my care, and I can see you have made her nervous. I don’t like it, and you are not welcome in my house. I would very much appreciate it if you would leave now.”
Skorzeny could not keep the smile from his lips.
“Of course, madame. Please forgive my intrusion. I will see myself out.”
He walked to the parlour door, turned, spoke to Celia. “Miss Hume, please do call me if you should realise you know where Lieutenant Ryan is after all. I would be most grateful.”
She stared ahead, silent and still, save for the sharp rise and fall of her chest.
Skorzeny exited through the hall onto the street. He checked his watch and decided to head to one of the better hotels for dinner.
Perhaps the Shelbourne or the Royal Hibernian. Their food was at least tolerable.
His appetite roused.
CHAPTER FORTY THREE
The van left again just before seven in the evening, this time with the three men on board, Carter at the wheel. When they returned, darkness had come, and the streetlights glowed.
Ryan reached for his field glasses.
The men smiled and laughed, even Carter. Wallace grinned as he talked, his hands telling stories.
Saturday night. Ryan guessed they had gone out for dinner and a few pints. Even when stationed in a combat zone, men needed to unwind. Perhaps the excursion would ease Wallace’s itch. But Ryan also knew Carter would keep them in check, not let a relaxing drink become anything more.
The men entered the house, and Ryan saw lights come on behind the newspaper that covered the insides of the windows. Within fifteen minutes, they had been extinguished, and the house stood in darkness.
Ryan checked his watch.
Eleven o’clock.
He burrowed into his nest, confident the men he watched had settled for the night. He tightened his jacket around him, placed the backpack beneath his head for a pillow. The sounds of the streets soothed him, the dogs barking, the distant shouting of drunken men, the begrudged lovemaking of the couple in the house nearest to him.
Ryan closed his eyes.
The early train woke him again, the roar pulling him from his dreams like a greasy tentacle, throwing him down in the ivy, a disorienting sense of weightlessness as his consciousness reassembled.