The Squad by T. Ryle Dwyer Read Free Book Online Page A

duty, with a stick.’
    Collins apologised to Broy for not telling him about Kavanagh. ‘I told him that that was what I had been preaching to him since I met him, not to tell anything, that the Irish people had paid too big a price for carelessness like that, in the past.’ Michael similarly apologised to Joe the next time he met him, but was glad the two of them now knew and understood each other. Thereafter Kavanagh joined Broy’s meeting with Collins at the home of Tom Gay. They were later joined by another detective, Jim McNamara, who was a confidential clerk for the assistant commissioner of the DMP in Dublin Castle. The son of a police officer, McNamara was a light-hearted individual who would playfully trip colleagues up while walking. With his charm and guile he won his way into the trust of both his superiors and Collins. The three detectives were subsequently joined by another, David Neligan. The detectives would go to Clontarf separately by tram, while Collins usually cycled there. If any of them wished to contact Collins at other times, they could do so by leaving a message with Gay at the Capel Street library.
    In early May a three-man delegation of Irish-American politicians, which had tried unsuccessfully to get President Woodrow Wilson to secure a hearing for a delegation from the dáil at the Paris Peace Conference, visited Ireland. The dáil held a special public session for them at the Mansion House on 9 May 1919, and there were some dramatic developments in which Collins essentially upstaged everyone. ‘A few of us had a very interesting experience’, he wrote to Stack a couple of days later.
    Collins had been arrested in March 1918 for incitement to riot and incitement to raid for arms in Longford. He put up bail in April 1918 during the conscription crisis, but did not appear in Londonderry on 19 March 1919 to face trial. A bench warrant was issued for his arrest the next day. He was also wanted for illegal drilling in Skibbereen. The bench warrant for that offence was issued on 14 April and provided a description of him: ‘Clean shaven – youthful appearance – dresses well – dark brown eyes – regular nose, fresh complexion, oval face, active make, 5’ 11” height – about 30 years – dark hair. Generally wears a trilby hat and fawn overcoat.’ His address was given as 44 Mountjoy Street, which was correct at the time, but he promptly moved, and the police reported that they were unable to locate him there.
    But some detectives recognised Collins and a couple of other wanted men as they entered the Mansion House for the special session and they called G Division headquarters to raid the place. ‘I heard about this almost on the spot,’ Broy said. He could not telephone a warning from the police station, so he went outside to a public telephone and called de Valera. As the telephone service of the day was notoriously insecure, Broy gave the warning in French, but the Long Fellow could not understand his French. Piaras Beaslaí therefore took the message from Broy that the building would be raided that afternoon.
    ‘We’ll have our lunch first,’ Collins replied rather nonchalantly when Beaslaí passed on the warning. The Big Fellow was obviously enjoying the prospect of becoming the centre of attention. He sent Joe O’Reilly to fetch his uniform. O’Reilly, a fellow Cork man, was a lively individual, totally dedicated to Collins. ‘About five o’clock the enemy came along with three motor lorries, [a] small armoured car, machine guns, probably 200 or 250 troops,’ Collins wrote. ‘They surrounded the building with great attention to every military detail. They entered the Mansion House and searched it with great care and thoroughness but they got nobody inside. The wanted ones codded them again.’
    Collins, Robert Barton and Ted Kelly had slipped out a back window and hid in an adjoining building. When the military left they returned, only this time Collins was dressed in his