Free Safe House by James Heneghan Page A

forward, reached down for the receiver, and accidentally pushed her. She fell to the floor with a shriek. “You struck me!”
    â€œNo I didn’t.” He held on to the receiver and watched her climb laboriously to her feet.
    â€œYou did. You struck me. Wait till Fergus hears about this.” She retreated to the living room, crying and muttering to herself.
    to herself.
    Old cow.
    He dialed Nicole’s number again.
    â€œHello.” A woman’s voice.
    â€œMrs. Easterbrook?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œThis is Liam Fogarty. I’m a friend of Nicole’s from Youth Circus. Could I speak to her?”
    â€œYes, of course, hold on, Liam.”
    â€œLiam? It’s Nicole. It’s good to hear from you.”
    â€œI can’t talk long. I’m…” He couldn’t think of what to say next.
    Nicole said, “I gave Rory my number but wasn’t sure if you could call. I’m so happy you did. It’s terrible about your mum and dad, what happened, I mean. I’m sorry. I can only imagine how awful it is for you, Liam.”
    â€œYes.”
    It was good to hear Nicole’s voice, but her choice of words reminded him they were on opposite sides: Hers was a Protestant Loyalist family; his background was Catholic Republican (or Nationalist). Only a Protestant would say, “I’m sorry” instead of the usual Irish Catholic, “Sorry for your trouble.”
    â€œI missed you at YC yesterday. We all did.”
    â€œThanks. Were you flying?” Flying was the word they used for swinging trapeze work.
    She gave a happy sigh. “All morning. I just love it so much. And in the afternoon Dubois was teaching swinging ankle hangs. Scary! You should’ve seen Dubois. She’s amazing. Wish you could’ve been there.”
    â€œMe too. But I might be a while yet.”
    â€œI know. I’m sorry. Liam?”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œI really miss you a lot. Come back soon, okay?”
    Fergus Grogan didn’t return until late, after Liam had gone upstairs, so the promised tongue lashing over the use of the telephone did not take place.
    Later that night, Liam woke to the sound of footsteps on the stairs. The Grogans’ bedroom door closed with a click. The digital clock showed 11:45 PM. He got up, switched off the light, closed his eyes and tried to get back to sleep. It was useless; he was wide-awake. After tossing and turning for a while, he got up, switched the light on again, and leaned on the wall, stretching his back and leg muscles. Then he got back into bed and read some more of White Fang, hoping this would help him sleep. But it didn’t work; after half-an-hour he gave up and let the book drop to the floor.
    One o’clock. He was suddenly very hungry. Maybe this would be a good time to creep downstairs and return the potato peeler to the knife drawer and see if there was anything to eat in the fridge. He slid off the bed, turned off his light, and bare-footed it silently down the stairs.
    Voices in the kitchen. Men talking quietly. Fergus and another man. The other man’s voice sounded familiar. Liam tiptoed along the short hallway toward the kitchen and then stopped. Police. A uniformed constable seated at the kitchen table was speaking in a low voice to Fergus, on the opposite side of the table.
    The policeman handed something, a book or an envelope, to Fergus. “You better count it,” he said. “Make sure it’s all there.” He leaned back in his chair and took off his uniform cap.
    Liam stared in horror. The Mole!
    Heart and stomach plunged.
    The Mole was a policeman!
    Handing Fergus an envelope of money!
    Why would the Mole be handing Fergus a wad of money? Liam did not know the answer, but there was one thing he did know: His life was in danger again. He had to get out of the safe house or he was dead; he had to get out now, immediately. Heart thumping wildly, he turned and moved quickly and