Free A Winter of Spies by Gerard Whelan Page B

Collins had a job for him that would be ‘right up his street’. It must be a killing, she thought, and she noticed a strange reaction in herself. Just knowing what Collins must mean by ‘a bit of a job’ made her feel dirty, as though she were somehow defiled even by the understanding of it. She kept thinking of the dying detective, of his stained waistcoat and that gruesome spray of blood. It was strange to hear such things spoken of so casually. Strange and nasty. She was no longer so bloodthirsty since seeing that man in the street tonight. The sight of real blood had quenched that thirst.
    Collins reached up and brushed the hanging lock of hair off his forehead. He was wearing a dark blue suit, and a white hat lay on the table. He didn’t look like a guerrilla general. He looked like nothing so much as a successful young businessman. Sarah was a bit disappointed by this too, though she felt she could hardly expect Collins to parade around in a uniform for her benefit. There was a price on his head, after all.
    Then Collins looked for the first time at herself and Da. His face, so serious, broke into a momentary smile. It was like a light going on in a dark room. It was gone in an instant , but in that instant Sarah was certain she’d seen him wink at her. Michael Collins had winked at her! She felt she could die of pride right there and then, however his accent and dress might have disappointed her.
    â€˜Good evening, James,’ Collins said. ‘And I presume this is your daughter.’
    â€˜This is Sarah,’ Da said. Sarah felt her face flush. Collins nodded to her.
    â€˜Was it you, Sarah,’ he asked, ‘who saw Hugh Byrne in town tonight?’
    She’d been right, then; it was Byrne they were talking about. Sarah found it hard to answer Collins. An unusual shyness came over her. She’d never met a famous person before. Her mouth was dry. Collins smiled at her. Da prodded her in the back. ‘Speak up, girl,’ he said.
    â€˜Myself and Jimmy,’ she said, ‘that’s my brother. We saw him.’
    â€˜And he shot someone?’
    â€˜We didn’t see the actual shooting, but we were sure it was him.’
    â€˜Sure?’ Collins was still smiling, but his eyes were staring narrowly. Sarah felt he was looking right through her. She knew that look: Da had it too.
    â€˜We were certain,’ she said. ‘He was smiling. I never seen him look so happy. It was an ugly smile.’
    â€˜Right,’ Collins said. He looked up at Simon. ‘Si,’ he said, ‘find Hughie. Tell him I want to see him after in Vaughan’s.’
    Simon nodded. He smiled at Da and Sarah and left without saying a word.
    â€˜You didn’t ask why I wanted to see you, Mick,’ Da said. It gave Sarah a thrill to hear him address Collins in such a familiar way.
    Collins leaned back and sat on the table. He smiled at them.
    â€˜You’re here,’ he said to Da, ‘because you’re afraid for your family.’
    â€˜Aye,’ Da said. ‘Not for myself. I want to make that very clear.’
    Collins held up a hand.
    â€˜James, please,’ he said. ‘I’m not an eejit.’ He looked at Sarah now. ‘Do you know,’ he asked her, ‘the first man who ever mentioned your Da’s name to me?’
    â€˜No,’ Sarah said. She couldn’t imagine.
    â€˜It was James Connolly,’ Collins said.
    Sarah was so shocked she forgot to be shy. ‘James Connolly the 1916 leader?’ she blurted out.
    â€˜The very same. Only he was James Connolly the trade-union man too. Don’t forget that. I was talking to him in the GPO during the Rising, and he was worried about how the Citizen Army men were getting on in Stephen’s Green.’
    â€˜My uncle Mick was in the Green,’ Sarah said. However much she might have jeered him since, that was one thing about Mick she’d always be proud of.
    Collins