In the Morning I'll Be Gone by Adrian McKinty Read Free Book Online Page A

you?”
    The blood drained from Tom’s face. Kate reached across the table and stopped the tape recorder. “Inspector Duffy, you really shouldn’t speculate about things like that,” she said tersely with an unattractive but oddly fascinating furrow between her eyebrows.
    She rewound the tape to the point where she had said “British Isles” and hit the “Record” switch again.
    “Last week we received the somewhat alarming information from SIS that the IRA teams were given false passports and some of them may have already departed Libya.”
    “Brilliant. So they’re long gone.”
    “Yes.”
    She folded her hands together on the tabletop and looked at Tom. He had nothing to add.
    “Go on,” I said.
    “Go on with what?” Kate asked.
    “That’s it? You’ve no more intel?”
    “I’m afraid that’s it,” Tom said with a sheepish grin.
    I lit myself a cigarette and let the nicotine dissolve into my bloodstream for a minute or so before beginning my spiel.
    “Let me see if I understand you correctly. Up to ten IRA men have received sophisticated bomb-making and weapons training in Libya. Some of them were escapees from the Maze prison and those boys were already highly skilled explosive engineers. Gaddafi’s secret service has given them false passports, money, and material, and many of them are probably already in the UK plotting a major IRA bombing campaign. Is that about the size of it?”
    “That’s about the size of it,” Kate said.
    “I think,” Tom began, but before he could tell us these thoughts the lights went off and we heard muffled thumping sounds all around the base. Some sort of attack? If so it was a half-hearted affair and after two minutes the lights came back on again. I noticed that Tom had puffed my cigarette to a stub.
    “So what exactly is my role to be in all this?” I asked Kate.
    “We’d like you to help locate Dermot McCann for us. He’ll almost certainly be the leader of one of the cells, perhaps of the whole unit.”
    “Dermot’s been on the run for a while now. Presumably you’ve already tried the conventional approach.”
    “Special Branch, the prison service, MI5, and even the SAS have been looking for him,” Kate replied.
    “Phone taps? Mail diversion . . .”
    “All that and a couple of ground teams.”
    “Who exactly are you tapping? I know that Annie divorced him a few years ago.”
    “Annie’s living at home with her mother and father, but we’ve tapped that phone anyway just to be on the safe side.”
    “Who else?”
    “I can assure you that we tap the phones and intercept the post of every known family member and associate.”
    “And you’ve heard nothing?” I said.
    Tom shook his head.
    It was my turn to shrug. “I’m not surprised. Dermot’s extremely disciplined. He’ll never contact his family or friends, not while his cell is operational. Dermot’s no mug. It’ll be a tough gig.”
    “We caught him once before,” Tom offered.
    “No, you didn’t catch him. The police fitted him up. Dermot would never have left a fingerprint anywhere, certainly not on one of his own bombs. Special Branch planted that print,” I said.
    Kate smiled at me. “Perhaps we’ll have to take more extreme measures this time.”
    I didn’t like her tone.
    “Well, I certainly won’t be your assassin,” I told her coldly.
    “We don’t need you to be. We just need you to do what you do best,” she replied.
    I lit another fag, threw the match at the ashtray, and it landed on Tommy Cooper’s big chin.
    “I’ll need a list of Dermot’s friends, relatives, old prison buddies and acquaintances. Basically every person that you’re wire-tapping and the circle beyond that.“
    “We can do some of that.”
    “And I’ll need an office. I was thinking Carrick police station. It’s handy and I know the score. They’ve got some tight-arsed new boss there, a chief super from Derry. You’ll have to square it with him.”
    “We can do that, too,” she