Redemption - Leon Uris [317]
“I came here wondering what I could possibly do in Ireland…. Now I know,” Rory said.
83
When the Tara Street Railroad Station was planned and built in the last century, two sets of architects had worked on it. The firm in London engineered the tunnel and tracks from the central depot, while a firm in Dublin produced the blueprints for the terminal building.
Only problem was, either the tracks or the building was on the wrong side of Tara Street. After due discussion, arbitration, and court action, the net result was seventy-five feet of abandoned tunnel, which was boarded up on both ends.
The Brotherhood gained secret access to this abandoned stretch of line and, using it as a starting point, charted a labyrinth of sealed rooms, hidden ladders, movable sections of flooring and roofing, over rooftops that ultimately led to a garret three stories up over Poolbeg Street, an area of general commerce near the river.
If you were looking for the safest hideaway in Ireland, look no further. It had been crafted over a six-month period by Conor Larkin, took a half-hour to reach once one entered the tunnel, and it never came close to coughing up its final destination.
Furthermore, it was airtight because the location was known only to Conor, Dan Sweeney, Seamus O’Neill, and Atty. Only Atty survived the Lettershambo Raid and only then shared the secret with Theo.
Over time its larder was stocked with nonperishable food including essential liquids. It sported a small turf fire and a secure phone line. It was now reopened as the rendezvous for Rory, Theo, and Atty.
Rory followed Theo down from the roof, remarking about the incredibility of the place. Theo removed the ladder and with a long handle, slid the roof shut.
“Hello, Mother.”
Atty Fitzpatrick was waiting on a well-worn settee.
“Hello, Rory lad,” Atty said. “This is where we meet from now on. There will only be the three of us. Needs a bit of dusting and some new supplies. I’ll bring them up. The telephone still works. Never pick it up until you hear five full rings, a stop, then a redial.”
Rory surveyed the place. A small dormer brought up sounds and smells of steel-ringed wheels on cobblestones and the omnipresent Dublin aroma of ales from no lack of nearby public houses.
As the sky darkened and the town blinked on in waves of twinkling lights, low roofs made a fairyland silhouette. Even curtains, Rory thought. He let them fall together.
“Kind of rare up here,” Rory said.
Atty had a bittersweet reaction to the place. She checked the cupboards, stopped here and again by returning memories.
Theo trailed after her, shaking empty bottles and chucking them. At last! A keeper.
Atty became all business. “Theo and I will be your only contacts. No one else in Ireland knows we’re getting information out of the Castle. Your name is nonexistent. We still have a Supreme Council, although, as you can imagine, communicating and meeting is a very dicey proposition these days. Theo and I are gong to take much of the responsibility and make plans and decisions until we can form a cohesive group again. Is that all right with you?”
“Yes, that’s fine with me.”
“How is it going in the Castle?” Theo asked.
“Some of the security is really sloppy,” Rory said. “I might have a crack at some informers’ lists.”
“That’s good, but we have to be very careful. First of all, you aren’t the only Brotherhood man working inside the Castle. Secondly, there are double agents playing both sides. Thirdly, they may plant a list with several false names on it to trap someone like you in their midst. Anything you touch, do it with suspicion,” Atty instructed.
Rory blew a breath and nodded, acknowledging her years and skills at the game and also realizing the thin ice he himself was skating on.
“I’ve got one thing,” Rory said. “Brodhead is planning a series of setups. The Army or the Constabulary is going to plant a few cases of rifles or