Read Online A Devil Is Waiting by Jack Higgins - Free Book Online Page B

of mine. I told her to look him up.”
     
    “And they fell in love.”
     
    “She moved in with him, and had two years of bliss before she went home to Belfast one day, got involved in a street protest, was manhandled by soldiers, handed over to the police, and was found dead in a cell the following morning. Choked on her own vomit. There was a suggestion of abuse, but nothing was ever proved.”
     
    “Well, there wouldn’t be, would there?” Owen said.
     
    “We all know that, but there was nothing to be done. I was on the run at the time, took a chance and went to the funeral. St. Mary’s, Bombay Street in Belfast, the church packed. Just before the service, the door banged and there was Henri over from London. The look on his face would have frightened the devil. He had a single red rose in his hand, walked straight up the aisle, ignoring the priest, placed the rose between her folded hands, leaned over, kissed her, and walked out.”
     
    “What did you do?”
     
    “Went after him, took him for a drink. I asked him if he intended to return to France. He told me he would never leave London, because as long as he stayed, her presence would always be with him.”
     
    “True love.” Owen reached for a cigarette and lit it. “So you suppose that he was responsible for the death of that MP all those years ago as an act of revenge?”
     
    “It was more complicated than that. I told you that Henri had given us a thorough training on the construction of explosive devices.”
     
    “What about it?”
     
    “One of the car bombs he demonstrated was of Russian origin and was unusual in that it used mercury as part of the trigger mechanism. Three months after Mary’s death, the army colonel whose men had been involved in that riot was killed with the same sort of car bomb right here in London.”
     
    “Which could hardly be a coincidence,” Owen said.
     
    “Not when you consider that two months later, the Royal Ulster Constabulary chief superintendent who’d been commanding the police station where Mary had died, met a similar fate.”
     
    “I’d say that’s pretty convincing proof, but why would Legrande target the Member of Parliament? He didn’t have anything to do with what happened to Mary Barry, did he?”
     
    “No, but there was an election going on at the time, the government was taking a very anti-IRA line, and the MP was a spokesman. Who knows what was going on in Henri’s head? The important thing was that there were no more mercury tilt bombs after that.”
     
    “What happened when you put all this to Legrande?” Owen asked.
     
    “But I never did,” Kelly told him. “I was serving five life sentences for murder in the Maze Prison until the peace process pardoned me.”
     
    “So what is Legrande doing now?”
     
    “I haven’t a clue. I wasn’t certain whether people like mewere still under police surveillance, so I decided to leave well enough alone where certain old friends were concerned.”
     
    Owen, who’d been examining the phone book on his desk, said, “Here we are. Henri Legrande. Rare books, fine art, antiques. It’s called Mary’s Bower.”
     
    Kelly said, “Well, we know where the shop’s name comes from. Where are you going with this?”
     
    “Abu is just a messenger boy passing on orders, but orders they are. You’ve boasted of your sleepers in London. Now you’re supposed to activate them to sort out Ferguson and his people.”
     
    Kelly said, “It isn’t as easy as that. When the Troubles were in full swing, we had a network of them, but . . .”
     
    “Are you telling me it would be impossible?”
     
    Kelly had an edge of desperation in his voice. “It would be difficult.”
     
    “Then you’re a dead man walking, because you’ve been lying to Abu and Al Qaeda. I don’t intend for you to pull me down with you. Stay on the phone for five minutes. I’ll be back.”
     
    He went out to the kitchen and dialed a number on the wall phone. A