The Angel Tapes Read Free Page A

By rights we should have Nolan on it, too, but it’s—”
    â€œNow hold on a minute, sir!” Nolan was not a happy man. “This is very high-handed altogether. I mean, who was doing all the donkey work this morning while Macken here was catching up on his bleeding beauty sleep? And it’s me day off as well, y’know.”
    â€œI know, Charlie,” Duffy said. “And I appreciate it, believe me. But you have your hands full with that Delahunt business. If you must know, I’ve had her bloody husband breathing down my neck again. He’s out to make trouble, Charlie, and he can do it, too. To the both of us.”
    Nolan, sullen, looked up quickly.
    â€œLeave this to Blade, Charlie. I’m relying on you to sort out what exactly went wrong in Delahunt’s house. God, you’d think it was our fault, the way he carried on about his bloody alarms. Get your friend Roche in, if you want; but let’s have some results soon or there’ll be hell to pay.”
    Nolan nodded, cowed; he mumbled something and left.
    Duffy looked relieved and turned to Macken. “I believe you know Captain Fitzpatrick.”
    A tall man wearing gas-utility overalls extended a hand.
    â€œHow are you, Blade?”
    â€œNever better, Tom,” Macken lied. “I thought you were still in the Middle East.”
    â€œThey pulled us out. Not before time either. I got transferred to the Engineering Corps in May.”
    Blade gestured toward the hard hats. “Are those your lads?”
    â€œThey are. But you’d never think it now, would you?”
    â€œTell them not to work too hard, or they’ll blow their cover.”
    Captain Fitzpatrick smiled briefly, then was serious once more. He turned to the uniformed Guard.
    â€œPerhaps the commissioner can explain the situation better than me.”
    â€œWe actually know very little at this stage, Blade,” Duffy said. “As you can see, we’re attempting to keep the lid on things for the time being. I had the press office put out a statement a little while ago, blaming it on a gas leak.”
    â€œSo I heard. But will the press fall for that one, sir?”
    â€œI hope so, I hope so. But I don’t see why they shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that has happened. I’ve known half a block of flats to be wrecked by some absentminded housewife with a lighted match. Gas is volatile stuff.”
    â€œI hope you’re right, sir. Has anybody claimed responsibility for the bomb?”
    â€œNot yet, no.”
    â€œWho do we think it is? The UVF? The UFF?”
    The assistant commissioner shook his head grimly.
    â€œIt could be loyalist paramilitaries—and we’re not ruling that out. It’s just that this isn’t the way they usually work.” He pushed his peaked cap a fraction higher. “To be honest, it’s not the way anybody usually works; that’s the devilish part of it.”
    â€œI don’t follow you, sir,” Blade said.
    â€œNo. How could you? The fact of the matter is, Macken, it wasn’t a car bomb.”
    Blade looked blank.
    â€œSomebody,” Duffy said, “planted a bomb under the surface of the street.”
    â€œHow in Christ’s name did they manage that? ”
    â€œThat’s what we’re trying to find out, Blade,” Fitzpatrick said. “But there’s no doubt that it was a subterranean explosion. I’m telling you, if it’d been a surface blast, then half of these buildings would have been demolished. We’re talking about a very big bomb here. I’d say it was about six or seven pounds of Semtex. Have a look at this.”
    He led the way to the pit in the road and Blade peered over the rim. The bomb had gouged out a hole at least fifteen feet deep. There was pulverized stone, shattered ancient bricks, lengths of fused metal, bent and twisted utility pipes. He took Fitzpatrick’s