Death In The Liberties: Maimed . . . Angry . . . Hunted Through The Streets. . . by Tony O'Reilly

Author:Tony O'Reilly [O'Reilly, Tony & O'Reilly, Tony]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Kindle, Irish Historical Fiction, Dublin Ireland, Poolbeg press
ISBN: 9781781996911
Publisher: Poolbeg Press
Published: 2023-06-07T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

Christopher

The note, which he had to destroy after reading, had instructed Christopher to go to Phibsborough, an area he is unfamiliar with, and from there he would be taken, blindfolded, to meet one of the leaders of the IRA. When he read the note, he was immediately on guard.

Tit-for-tat killings between the IRA and the British in Dublin are becoming more frequent. The picture in Dublin is confusing and there is talk of more British agents operating out of Dublin Castle – good ones. Everything was on a need-to-know basis and he had to take the word of O’Donnell that the missions were sanctioned by HQ, whoever they were. O’Donnell keeps everything close to his chest, but Christopher gets the impression that as Anthony’s star is declining, his star is rising. In a way he is glad that Anthony is not included in direct action now, but is only used as a lookout or a glorified delivery boy dropping arms and ammunition to safe houses. But Anthony is a proud man and they are slowly losing contact with each other.

Walking along the banks of the Royal Canal towards Cross Guns Bridge, Christopher goes back through the last operation he has been on. Has something gone wrong? As well as British targets being hit, there are rumours of double agents being routed out of the IRA. These are usually English-born but with Irish backgrounds. The last one was an ex-British soldier shot dead in his room in the Gresham Hotel on Sackville Street by several masked men with Irish accents, according to the newspaper reports. It didn’t take a genius to know what had happened there. Maybe, in all of the claims and counterclaims, his name had come up as being an ex-British army soldier. But he had done all that was asked of him, and more, cleaning up the messes of some of the younger recruits who, in their excitement, more often than not botched up a killing. Could it have been one of those, he wonders, who had brought up his past again out of jealousy?

A family of swans drift by, hardly disturbing the water in their passing, an adult and several downy cygnets. On the far side of the canal an excited dog runs up and down, barking at them. According to his watch, he has another fifteen minutes or so to make up his mind. It wouldn’t take him long to retrace his steps down the canal and make his way into Amiens Street train station. He could make his way up to Belfast, send for Nell, maybe head over to Scotland. She would complain, he knew, about leaving her job, but he would explain to her that Dublin was now more dangerous than Flanders in 1916. At least in Flanders the enemy were coming at you from the front and not behind you as was happening more often now in Dublin.

But he suspects he is making things out to be worse than they are. If there is a problem, he can talk his way out of it as he has nothing to hide.

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