Redemption - Leon Uris [302]
“Why?”
“Don’t let my surroundings here fool you. I know what’s going on in this country and I believe Jeremy was intending to make a declaration to become a republican. He always had the soul of a republican, and he had a mentor who opened his eyes to terrible realities. As far as I’m concerned, Llewelyn Brodhead is harmless. He may not be so harmless as far as Ireland is concerned. As for what happened at Gallipoli…my father and I are haunted…I told you—we are ancient Gaels.”
Rory felt a rage from her he’d never seen in a woman before. There was no use trying to quarrel with her, with the strange look in her eyes. Lord, what to do? The open wounds of these two people might only be closed by vengeance. And what of himself? Rory thought. Would not his own vengeance be the end of his search in Ireland?
“Will it matter between you and me if I join his staff?”
Caroline’s face flushed. He was a tough lad, all right. No wonder Jeremy adored him. “I want you to go back to Brodhead’s command, Rory. If it means we take him off our slate, so be it.”
“I’m not a very sophisticated lad, Caroline. It would be better if we leave the General out of it. I just don’t understand all the in-fighting.”
“Like hell you don’t,” she said. “For the sake of appearances,” she continued, totally switching tones, “if you go on Llewelyn’s staff and if he should ask, tell him you relayed his interest to me, and let him know I was quite flattered by his attention. No harm in that, is there, Rory, making the old boy feel good?”
“I’ll tell him I caught a light in your eye at the mention of his name.”
“Welcome to our dirty little games, Lieutenant.”
He put his arms about her and gave her a tight squeeze. Jaysus, what a woman, he thought. Everything was falling into place so damned well he could fairly believe it.
Although they still held their secrets, they felt a bonding, like mother and son.
It had been a restless night until it suddenly struck her! Caroline bolted upright in bed, flung her covers off and paced, then howled with discovery!
It was nothing that Rory Landers had said that gave him away, so much as the manner he said it. He claimed no Irish ancestry, but certainly one of his parents was Irish. There was too much of a Donegal lilt unconsciously weaving in and out of his conversation.
Good Lord, she had spotted the Larkin face the moment he entered Rathweed Hall and even a similarity of voice. At first she wondered if she hadn’t unconsciously expected Conor to come through that door for the last ten years.
Landers had many of Conor’s moves: his knowing stare, his startling candor, the laugh, the mystery of his travels in Ireland. Of course Rory was aware of Jeremy’s republican leanings. Jeremy knew who Rory really was and never gave him away but left little hints throughout his correspondence to her.
Caroline’s personal assistant, Tony Pimm, was at Rathweed Hall within the hour.
“We need to lift some Army records of a colonial, a New Zealander. I want them duplicated. Lieutenant Rory Landers. Canterbury district or county, Christchurch area, the South Island.”
“Landers? I thought you and Freddie were very taken by him. What’s our man up to?”
“I don’t think he’s Landers. He’s somebody else.”
“I see. Some soldier who knew Jeremy and Chris enough to get into Rathweed Hall and work a swindle on you.”
“No, that’s not his game. The relationship with my sons is genuine and I adore him. I need information out of New Zealand. Is our office in Wellington properly connected?”
Tony Pimm nodded that it was.
“I think he enlisted under the name of Landers because he didn’t want to carry his real identity into Ireland. Have Overcash in Wellington round up the names of all the stations, owners, and transfers, and the like, and see if anything Irish pops up.”
“Like what?”
“Larkin.”
“Holy Christ.”
“I’d wager he’s Conor Larkin’s nephew and, hang on, Tony, he’s been offered a post inside Dublin Castle by