She was filled with emotion. “Anything, Mr. Bell, I’d give my life.”

“No need of that. I’m back to Dublin in the morning, but Dermot here, Dermot Fitzgerald, will look out for you. He’s a scholar and a gentleman.”

“A pleasure,” Fitzgerald said.

“The thing is,” Bell told her, “there’s a patient at the Rosedene dangerous to our cause. She’s a Special Branch Superintendent and responsible for the death or imprisonment of many of your comrades. You can take my word for it.”

“Oh, I do.”

“She’s been at the Cromwell. We’ve friends there, and I understand she’ll be transferred back to the Rosedene tomorrow.” He took a small envelope from an inner pocket and offered it to her. “This is something to help her on her way. Put her out of her suffering, if you like. It’s called Dazone. A special drug from the States. If the heart’s bad, it helps. That’s one pill, but three” – he shrugged – “it’s good night, Vienna. Are you up to this? You’ve powerful memories concerning your father, but say the word…”

She took the envelope. “Of course I will. It’s a wonderful chance to serve.”

“Good girl.” He patted her hand and got up. “I’ll be on my way. Look after her, Dermot.”

“I will, Mr. Bell.”

“And at the hospital, you watch out for a man called Sean Dillon. A damned traitor to us all.”

He left, and walked along the street to a Mercedes, where a man in a dark trench coat sat behind the wheel. His name was Igor Levin, and he was a commercial attaché at the Russian Embassy, or claimed to be.

“Taken care of?”

“Oh yes,” Bell said. “You got a good look at her, Mary Killane?”

“Naturally.”

“Keep a close eye, just in case anything goes wrong.”

“The man, Fitzgerald. Do you want anything to happen to him afterwards?”

“Jesus, no. He’s too valuable. He’ll be away out of it. Probably Ibiza. It’ll be a big payday for him.”

Levin said, “Well, we’ll get you back to Ballykelly, then. You won’t have trouble at the airfield? You’ve served time in the Maze Prison, surely?”