The Heirs of Owain Glyndwr (10 page)

19

30 June 1969, 18.30

‘Let's go over it
again,' Caradog said.

‘We've been through it three times already,' Dai Bach protested.

‘Yes, and we are going to go through it a fourth time, because we are not going to meet again before the event, so we need to be sure we are all on the same page,' Caradog replied.

They had gathered at the house in Pretoria Terrace. They were seated quietly around the dining table now, and the mood was tense.

‘We are going to spend the evening separately. The police have already started picking up people they have identified as trouble-makers. If we are on that list, there is nothing we can do, except to keep out of sight and hope for the best.'

‘I haven't noticed anyone paying attention to me,' Dai Bach said.

‘You wouldn't,' Trevor said. ‘Not until it is too late.'

‘I agree,' Caradog said. ‘But we have been careful not to give them a reason. I don't think I would still be working at the Castle if they had any suspicions about me, and you two have been posing as peaceful protesters for the last week, so if they've noticed you at all, they should put you in that category. Hopefully, they will be preoccupied with arresting assorted members of the FWA, and the
Mudiad,
and you will pass unnoticed.'

‘So Dai and I put in an appearance in the
Maes
,' Trevor said.

‘Yes. The regular evening protests are dying down. Most of the protesters are leaving town for the duration now, so I don't think a lot will be going on there. But you should put in an appearance. Let's say between 8 and 10. The rehearsal at the Castle should be over by then, so there will be people around. I will be on my way to work of course. After that…'

‘After that, Dai and I go our separate ways,' Trevor said. ‘I pick Dai up in the car outside the Castle Hotel at 11.45. We drive to Bangor, collect the device. You leave work, bringing the duffle bag with you, and meet us at the corner of New Street and Chapel Street at exactly 1.15.'

‘Correct,' Caradog confirmed. ‘Dai arms the device, we put it in the bag, and the rest is up to me. We go our separate ways to await developments.'

‘And don't forget to wipe your fingerprints off everything you touch,' Trevor added.

‘What about clearing out the garage?' Dai Bach asked.

Trevor shook his head.

‘I don't want to draw attention to the garage. We can clean up any time in the next few weeks. I'm going to continue renting it for a few more months yet, as cover.'

‘And you've checked the dimensions of the space where you're going to plant it?' Dai Bach asked.

‘Several times,' Caradog replied.

‘Well, excuse me for being anxious,' Dai Bach said. ‘Better safe than sorry.'

‘That's it,' Trevor said. ‘We don't need to sit around all night asking the same questions and making each other even more nervous than we already are. There is no more we can do now until tonight.'

20

30 June 1969 23.35

Dai Bach felt cold
as he stood alone outside the Castle Hotel in the
Maes,
with his watch indicating 11.35. The evening had gone as planned so far. Caradog had left for work, the duffle bag over his shoulder, after the miserably small demonstration had ended some two hours earlier. An understanding had grown up among the protesting population that leaving Caernarfon not later than the eve of the Investiture was the only form of protest still left to them, and many had already done so. The town would be abandoned to the English for the day as a token of their disgust. Most of those who had stayed to stand in the
Maes
in the earlier part of the evening had dispersed, having made a futile attempt to make themselves heard in the Castle during the final rehearsal for the ceremony to take place the following day.

There was a strong police presence in town, but that was only to be expected. It would all die down by the time he and Trevor returned from Bangor, and they were going to do nothing to attract suspicion. Arming the bomb was the work of half a minute if he didn't get too nervous about it, if he was systematic and didn't panic, if his hands didn't shake. Caradog and Trevor would keep a look out while he did it. It would take the Devil's own bad luck for anything to go wrong up to that point. After that, it was up to Caradog and his shoulder.

Even with his protest placard beside him as a prop, Dai felt uncomfortably exposed, standing there by the entrance to the hotel. There were fewer people in the square now, but there were several police officers, a few taxi drivers who would continue work until the town centre was closed to traffic at 3 o'clock, and one or two stragglers who, for whatever reason, still had not made their way home. Increasingly, he had the feeling of being stranded centre stage in the glare of the spotlight when the rest of the cast had exited for the interval. He suddenly could no longer remember the explanation he was going to give to police for his presence, should they ask. He cursed and forced himself to concentrate. Of course, he was waiting for his friend to give him a lift home. His friend would be arriving in just a few minutes. It was almost true, as far as it went.

This thought prompted him to look at his watch again, and when he did, he saw that 11.45 had come and gone, and there was no sign of Trevor. The panic started instantly. Dai Bach had no right to criticise anyone for lack of punctuality; his own failings in that department were legendary. But not tonight. Tonight he had made an effort, and even he, Dai Bach, had arrived early. For Trevor to be late was like Big Ben being five minutes slow. It didn't happen. Trevor was precise and self-controlled. How could this be? There might have been traffic, he reasoned. At this time of night? A police check-point, perhaps? Nobody had said that was going to happen, but you never knew. Or perhaps something more prosaic? He had to stop for petrol, or his car had developed a fault. None of it seemed very likely. He had no way of contacting Caradog. There was nothing for it but to wait. Surely, Trevor would not be long.

When 11.55 had come and gone, he could not endure waiting any longer. Leaving his placard outside, he walked quickly into the hotel. Reception was quiet. Testing the steadiness of his voice, he asked the night clerk if he could use the phone, muttering an excuse about his friend having mixed up his times. The clerk agreed indifferently and returned to the football magazine he was reading. Dai dialled a number. A female voice answered.

‘Arianwen, sorry to disturb you, like.'

It took her a second or two to place him at that time of night.

‘Dai? Hello.'

‘Hello.' He didn't really know what to say to her. He was groping his way along, word by word. ‘I'm sorry to disturb you so late, but is Trevor there?'

‘No. He's not back yet. I thought he was with you and Caradog.'

‘He was. Caradog went to work, of course. But… no, actually, I haven't seen Trevor for a while, but he said he would pick me up in the
Maes
.'

‘Oh, yes?'

‘Yes. Well… the thing is, I made arrangements to stay with a friend for a day or two, but I have to collect a few things from Bangor and bring them back here, before they close the town to traffic, you know. Trevor said he would give me a lift there and back. It wouldn't take long, you know, but I'm worried now that he might have forgotten.'

‘That's not like Trevor,' she said.

‘No.'

‘Hang on a minute, Dai.'

She was gone for some seconds.

‘Well, the car is here, so he would have to come back here first.'

She thought for a few seconds.

‘Where are you, Dai?'

‘Outside the Castle Hotel.'

‘All right. Stay where you are. I'll come and get you myself. Give me five minutes.'

Dai Bach almost passed out. No, he wanted to scream. You can't do that. That was Trevor's one rule. Arianwen must be kept out of it. Arianwen must not know. He tried to make his voice work, tried to think of some excuse, any excuse, for refusing her offer. But she had hung up.

She was as good as her word. Five minutes later she pulled up outside the hotel, and reached across to open the front passenger door.

‘Arianwen, you don't have to do this. It's late.'

‘Don't be silly,' she said. ‘It won't take long.' She nodded towards the rear seat. ‘I had to bring his nibs, of course, but it won't do him any harm to have a night-time adventure. He might even take in all the lights on the Castle and remember them when he's older… well, he might if he was awake.'

At the sight of Harri sleeping peacefully in his car seat, Dai started to feel sick.

‘Let's go back to your house,' he suggested. ‘Trevor is probably back by now and wondering where the car is.'

She laughed.

‘No need. I'm going to give him a good talking to when I get back, forgetting his friends. What can he have got up to?'

‘I don't know,' Dai replied. ‘Found a place to have a couple of drinks, I shouldn't wonder, and just put it out of his mind.'

As he said this, he was imagining Trevor in a police cell. What would that mean? Would they all be lost? Should he abort the whole plan now? He could go to his house, take an innocent suitcase, leave the device in the garage to deal with later, return to town, send Arianwen home with his thanks. Caradog would be beside himself, but he could hardly blame Dai. Trevor would be the one in trouble, when he showed up, if he showed up. But on the other hand, even if Trevor had been arrested, it might have nothing to do with the plan. It might have been just because he ran the
Tywysog
. The police would be bound to assume that he had a lot of contacts. They might not even have arrested him. They might just want to ask him about people they couldn't find. There would be nothing Trevor could do about it.

In any case, Caradog would be angry if Dai abandoned the plan just because of that. If Trevor couldn't be there, Caradog would expect Dai to use his initiative, take a taxi… ‘Oh, for God's sake,' he suddenly scolded himself. ‘Why didn't I just take a taxi? I didn't have to involve Arianwen. I could have…'

She was asking him something.

‘I'm sorry. What did you say?'

She looked at him strangely.

‘Where are you meeting your friend? Where does he live? Or she, perhaps, is it?' she grinned, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

‘No, he,' he replied, hearing his voice echoing in his head. ‘I'm meeting him near the
Maes
, just after 1 o'clock.'

She glanced at her watch. The grin remained, as if she didn't quite believe him about the friend being male but wasn't going to press him further.

‘We will make it,' she said. ‘We won't have traffic.'

As they entered Bangor, he directed her, not to his house, which she knew well, but to the garage.

‘How long have you had this place?' she said, pulling up outside.

‘It's just for storage,' he replied. ‘I've got too much stuff at home, see, running out of storage space.'

Before she could say anything else, he jumped out of the car and unlocked the garage door. The device was on the big trestle table, where he had left it – in its gleaming steel carrying case, which didn't look anything like a suitcase you would take to spend a day or two with a friend, male or female. If Trevor had been with him, that wouldn't matter, but… There was nothing to cover it up, nothing to put it in. Too late to worry about that now. He would have to try to keep her in the car. He picked it up, and looked outside. She was sitting in her seat, turning round to look at Harri. He locked the garage door. She saw him, but did not seem to react to the carrying case.

‘The boot's open,' she called out to him.

With a sigh of relief, he opened the boot, and laid the device down carefully. There was an old green blanket lying at the back of the boot. He picked it up and threw it casually over the device. He closed the boot, and climbed into the passenger seat.

‘Got everything you need?' she asked.

‘I hope so,' he replied.

When they arrived back in Caernarfon he directed her into the centre of town, and asked her to stop on New Street, near the corner with Chapel Street. It was exactly 1.15 and, at that precise moment, the world as Arianwen Hughes knew it, ended. From that time all she had left to connect her with that world was a series of memories, memories of events which made no sense and which happened in lightning quick succession.

Stopping the car.

Dai Bach getting out of the car.

Dai Bach walking across Chapel Street and disappearing from view.

Two men approaching from the same direction.

Realising that one was Dai Bach.

And that the other was Caradog, carrying his brightly-coloured duffle bag.

Why is he here, not at work in the Castle?

Caradog seeing her, suddenly very agitated.

Caradog screaming at Dai Bach.

Caradog and Dai Bach walking around the car to the boot.

Where is Trevor?

Getting out of the car.

Walking to the boot.

Suddenly seeing a metallic case.

Seeing Dai Bach open it.

What the…?

Horror. A thousand questions, but no words to ask them.

Two men approaching very fast.

Shouting and screaming, horribly loud.

The two men pinning Caradog and Dai Bach to the car.

A third man approaching.

Being thrown against the car like a limp rag doll.

Pain as her head and body hit the hard metal.

Handcuffs being forced on to her wrists.

Where is Trevor?

A fourth man, very big, screaming into a radio.

‘Bomb squad… Evacuate the area…!'

Dai Bach crying. ‘No, it's safe. There is no danger.'

Someone screaming: ‘There's a kid in the car! There's a kid in the car!'

Seeing Harri through the car window, still sleeping peacefully.

Where is Trevor?