To See The King

Chapter 6

Betsy Henry's pub had returned to normal with Patrick Carrington assisting in the evenings as he had in the past. It had been three days since he had returned from the Third Royal Command with rare foodstuffs and these gifts plus his very presence caused so much elation that Betsy asked no questions. Wartime London still feared Hitler's terror weapons yet there was gaiety in the pub. No one doubted the allies would win the war but the question now was when. Casey Ryan continued entertaining the patrons with his Churchill impressions and Father Sean O'Malley caused no notice as he chatted up some bird in the corner. Being frocked in his own block, who would ever suspect? Constable Robin just whispered something naughty in Betsy's ear while Pat wiped the counter. At a small table one man sat alone with his glass of stout.

He was Captain Peter Hansen of M.I. 5, except today he was Lawrence Kenwood of Civilian Defense. He had shaved his fine dark moustache and replaced it with a thicker blond one. Heavy make-up at the nostrils and a mastoid pad pulling the skin tight over the cheekbone made all the difference.

The Constable placed his mug on the bar, wiped his lips and snorted, "Hafta get back on the beat. Thanks Betty." He left swinging his Billy and the M.I. 5, agent fell in behind. As soon as they turned the corner, the agent flashed his badge.

"Lawrence Kenwood. Civilian Defense Authority. Will you step into the doorway so we won't be observed?" Before the Constable could answer, the agent threatened, "Are you aware that this is wartime and you should divulge no word that is about to be said now. If so, it will be construed as treason and you will be liable to be shot. Just think, no pension after all these years."

The Constable broke into a cold sweat not knowing what all this was about. The agent continued, "We are aware that young Pat Carrington suspected Father Sean O'Malley of being a spy. He came to you for help. What did you subsequently do?"

Robin breathed a little easier. The situation seemed to be more at hand. Never can tell who these weird government agents

"I checked the roof for are or what they suspect He replied, antenna wire and found nothing. Then I had the father let me in on the pretense of looking for a thief. Nothing out of order, no radio transmitters, nothing."

The agent just nodded, "Nothing else?"

The Constable scratched behind his ear and thought for a moment. Sure there were the screw holes in the door and indents to show that bolt locks could have been in place. But, like the man said, I have my pension to consider. He replied, 'Sorry, sir, not a thing that would make anyone suspicious.'

The agent returned to the pub and sought out Betsy Henry. He flashed his spurious credentials and introduced himself. "His Majesty's government is seeking certain rooftops in order to install air raid sirens. Intelligence advises that if we can't stop the V. is., additional advance warning is necessary. Should this site be selected, His Majesty's government will compensate you to the tune of one pound a month."

Betsy was indeed pleased at this prospect. She uttered, "Oh Blimey! One pound a month?"

"So true, until the end of the war. All we need is a spot on the roof. That is if this site is selected. May I inspect?"

Betsy was elated, "Just help yourself and to help you, I'll see that those blinkin' pigeons are removed. Follow those stairs, they go straight to the roof."

The agent was about to turn and then snapped his fingers as if he had just thought of something, "You know. I should talk to the occupant of the top flat. An air raid siren isn't the quietest thing, you know."

Betsy laughed, "That's Father O'Malley. He's in. I just saw him go upstairs about one minute ago. Just knock on the closest door to the roof."

The agent strolled about the roof on the pretense of seeking a siren site when in reality he tried to secure evidence of copper wire installation. Finally he went below and knocked on the priest's door. Sean O'Malley, fully robed, opened the door in response to the agent's knock. The latter went through the same pretentious act and entered. He continued about the siren and asked to see the window. While walking through the flat, he could see no evidence of any communications equipment but as he approached the door he hesitated to study the markings.

The agent asked, "Are you certain you understand? The crown will pay all expenses for your move. These sirens are absolutely ghastly."

O'Malley smiled as he replied, "Whether the sirens are installed or not makes no difference to me. You see, I'll soon be returnin' to Ireland, sure. I've not told a sole as yet but will in God's good time."

"I see, to the North or South."

"Strange question, me lad, but sure I'll tell you. First it be to Dublin for simple instructions and then it's to Belfast which is really my home and the home of my small following. The Nazis have given up on the North of Ireland."

"That's just fine and I wish you much luck." The agent then added matter of fatly as he ran his hand down the edge of the door. "Looks like at one time you were quite concerned for your safety." He watched the priest closely.

Without the slightest hesitation the priest answered, "Don't know anything about it. 'Twas like that when I moved in."

Back at the Third Royal Command, Major Carrington asked Captain Hansen, "Do you think the Priest is real?"

After a pause, the Captain simply replied, "Just not sure. There's no evidence to show that the priest is phony. Your nephew seems like a most strong and rational lad. I just can't put my finger on it but if black is black and white is white then I will just have to report that the priest is genuine."