The Heirs of Owain Glyndwr (8 page)

15

‘How in God's name
would you do it, anyway?' Trevor asked, after a lengthy silence. By common consent, there had been an interlude to allow the atmosphere in the basement to subside. Dai Bach seemed subdued. Caradog seemed frustrated.

‘You won't be able to get anywhere near the Castle. The security at the Castle, and in the town centre, will be unbelievable. Or don't you care about hitting the Castle? Is it enough to set off an explosion somewhere in town, anywhere you can, just to make a point?'

‘No, it will be in the Castle,' Caradog replied.

‘That's madness. It can't be done. You would be bound to get caught.'

‘Not necessarily. What if I had a job there?'

‘A job at the Castle?'

‘Yes.'

‘How are you going to get a job at the Castle?'

Caradog smiled. ‘It's actually very simple. They are going to close the Castle to the public on 1 February until after 1 July, so that they can have the place to themselves to get all the work done to make it ready. As you say, there will be security in place. But who do you think is going to be
doing
the security during those four months?'

‘I don't know.'

‘Well, I do. The usual staff will be on duty during the day time. But they are recruiting watchmen for duty at night. I have applied.'

Trevor laughed.

‘You? You've applied to be a night watchman?'

‘Why not? I'm not your average night watchman, I agree. But, as it happens, I'm perfect for this particular role.'

‘In what way?'

‘They think it would be a good idea to have one watchman on each shift who has a detailed knowledge of the Castle and the perimeter. Actually, it is a good idea. During the daytime, there are plenty of people to ask if something goes wrong in a particular area of the Castle. They can get expert advice within minutes just by picking up the phone. But not at night. All the experts have gone home. So they want to make sure they have at least one person on site who knows what he is talking about, just in case something comes up. I work for the Inspector of Ancient Monuments for Wales. I am just what they need, and the Inspector is happy to release me for duty.'

Trevor shook his head.

‘All right. Let's say you are a watchman on duty at the Castle at night. What's the plan? Would you work every night?'

‘No. Four nights on, three nights off.'

‘So you can't pick and choose?'

‘No, I would be assigned to certain shifts, but I am sure there will be some give and take, opportunities to swap shifts with somebody if necessary. The main object would be to work on the night of 30 June, the night before the event, or as close to it as I can get. I will try to schedule that with the management. If that doesn't work, I will try to swap duty with someone else to work that night.'

‘And when you are working, you would do what exactly?'

‘I have to find a place where I could plant a device of some kind with a reasonable chance of it not being discovered. The only real chance is to plant it the night before in a very good hiding place.'

‘Even then, they are going to have specialist teams, sniffer dogs…'

‘I know. But at least, that way, I would have a chance, and I would not be implicating anyone else. It would be down to me on my own.'

‘I doubt that very much,' Trevor replied.

‘They can't link me to anyone in the
Mudiad
or the FWA.'

‘Perhaps not, but they are not going to believe that you built a bomb on your own. You don't have the background for it.'

‘The devices the
Mudiad
used were pretty crude. I think anyone with a modicum of intelligence could work it out.'

‘Well, thank you very much for that, I'm sure,' Dai Bach said, with a nervous laugh.

‘They won't believe you,' Trevor said. ‘And where would you get the raw materials for the device, for this person with a modicum of intelligence to use?'

Caradog did not reply.

‘So that's another link to someone else, isn't it?'

Again, Caradog remained silent. Trevor allowed some time to pass.

‘Assuming that this hare-brained scheme could actually work,' he said at length, ‘what is the goal? Are you actually intending to cause harm to members of the Royal Family, or to the guests, or to members of the public – many of whom will be Welsh? What is the goal, exactly? What do you expect to achieve?'

‘The goal is to make a response,' Caradog replied. ‘There is no specific intention of harming any particular person. But a response must be made.'

‘That's not good enough. Your bomb maker would need to know exactly what the goal is. If all you want is to make a point, you don't want a device which would reduce the entire Castle to rubble and take most of the Royal Family with it, do you? And how do you know what size device you could hide successfully? What dimensions does your bomb maker have to work with?'

‘You seem to know a few things about bombs all of a sudden, boyo,' Dai Bach said. ‘How come? Been doing some reading in the basement, have you?'

‘No, Dai,' Trevor replied patiently. ‘I'm just asking questions any reasonable person would ask if they thought about it for five minutes, questions you should be asking if you are really thinking of doing this. And I'm not getting any answers that make sense. Do I take it that you will be building the device?'

‘Why not?' Dai Bach asked petulantly. ‘A chemist I am, after all. Why shouldn't I bloody build it? Don't you think I can?'

‘I have no idea whether you can or not,' Trevor replied. ‘But you'd better think of the possible consequences and be sure about it before you start. And you'd better make bloody sure you know what kind of device Caradog expects you to give him.'

‘We will work all that out once I am in place,' Caradog said. ‘I can't give you answers now. It depends on the conditions I have to work with.'

‘God in Heaven,' Trevor said.

‘As I said, the goal is to make a response.'

‘Why? What do you think will happen if you explode a bomb at the Castle? Do you really think the English will throw their hands up and say: “All right, we give up. The Welsh have exploded a bomb. Now we have to give in to whatever demands they have”? Because, historically, that has not been the reaction of the English to the use of violence. In fact, from my knowledge of history, the reverse is true. They will dig their heels in as never before. They may take away the few things we have gained.'

‘I'm sure you are right, Trevor,' Caradog replied. ‘I have no illusions about the English. But I can't worry about that. I can only do what I have to do to make a response to their endless rape of Wales. As to the outcome, if there is an outcome, I can hope for nothing at all.'

He paused.

‘And now, the question is: are you with us?'

‘I don't even know how anyone decides to be a part of something like this,' Trevor said.

‘Sometimes simply by taking over a book shop,' Caradog replied. ‘Don't tell me you picked the
Tywysog
out of all the bookshops in Britain by sticking a pin in a list over a cup of coffee in your office at Foyles, because I'm afraid I won't believe you.'

Trevor turned his back on Caradog and Dai Bach. He leaned his forehead against the wall between two bookcases, his eyes closed. He remained in that posture, silent, for a long time. Caradog showed no impatience. Suddenly, Trevor slammed his hands down on the shelves of the bookcases, straightened up and turned back to face them again.

‘Arianwen must be kept completely out of this,' he said. ‘She must know nothing. Is that clear?'

‘Agreed,' Caradog said.

‘Is that
clear
?'

‘Clear,' Caradog and Dai Bach replied together.

‘Because if she is not kept out of it, you will answer to me – both of you.'

‘We understand,' Caradog said.

Trevor looked at Dai Bach.

‘You're definitely going to build it, are you?' he asked.

‘I
am
a chemist,' Dai replied.

‘I think there may be a bit more to it than just being a chemist.'

‘I know some people we can consult, if we have to,' Caradog said.

‘We should move the instructions out of the cabinet now, tonight,' Dai said. ‘I will keep them at my house.'

‘No,' Trevor said firmly. ‘Not in your house, not in anyone's house. Find a garage for rent somewhere in Bangor, and I will take a lease on it. Call me with the landlord's number. You're going to need a workspace anyway, and it should be in Bangor, well away from Caernarfon, but definitely not at your house. As soon as you've taken possession, then we move the documents. Not before.'

He looked at Caradog. ‘Do you agree?'

‘Completely,' he replied.

16

March 1969

‘I've hit a bit
of a blank wall, see,' Dai Bach admitted.

The garage was small and cold, with off-white walls pock-marked with holes where some previous tenant had put up a shelf or hooks for tools, all of which had long since disappeared. Damp patches on the floor, which sloped downward towards the rear of the structure, suggested that the door, resting flimsily on the uneven concrete surface beneath, was powerless to keep the rainwater at bay. The garage was lit by stark tubular yellow lights which hung down from the centre of the ceiling. Trevor had seen it only once previously, on the day he rented it on a monthly cash basis from a local bar manager who had been disqualified from driving for a long time and had sold his car.

The only item of any size in the garage now was the large metal trestle table which occupied the central area. Two bright desk lamps were connected by a long extension cable to a socket on the wall. On the front section of the table were quantities of electrical wire, several pairs of pliers and screwdrivers, and a small battery-powered alarm clock with its back panel missing. The remainder of the table was covered by several sets of instructions for assembling home-made bombs, which had previously been stored in the basement cabinet at the
Tywysog
. Two smaller tables had been set up along the rear wall, on one of which were three large cardboard boxes and two metal cases containing materials and tools for use in the assembling of the device. The second table held an electric kettle, a jar of instant coffee, a bowl containing lumps of white sugar, a bottle of doubtful milk, and several unwashed cups.

‘How are the ingredients?' Trevor asked.

‘Fine.'

‘Do you know that?'

‘I know as far as I can know,' Dai Bach replied. He sounded frustrated. ‘They came from a reliable source.'

Trevor looked at Caradog.

‘Some friends had access to a military base some time ago, and helped themselves. This was surplus to requirements.'

‘Caradog…'

‘And that's all I'm going to say. Even to you, Trevor. No offence. I had to give my word. This is serious business.'

‘That's fine,' Trevor said. ‘But its quality is important. You're storing it in less than ideal conditions.'

‘Dynamite is relatively stable,' Dai Bach said, ‘as explosives go. Obviously, you have to be careful handling it, but it's not going to deteriorate and start leaking nitro-glycerine in the time it's going to be here. It comes from a military source. I'm not worried about the quality.'

‘I'm worried about everything,' Trevor said.

‘I am satisfied that we couldn't have done any better,' Caradog said.

Trevor nodded slowly.

‘All right. So, what's the problem?'

Dai Bach waved an arm over the table.

‘It's setting up the timing mechanism, see. Your basic timed detonation is easy. One clockwork alarm clock, remove the minute hand, insert a screw as a point of contact, and when the hour hand touches the screw it completes an electrical circuit, allowing current to flow from the battery; child's play, really, once you get the idea. But the maximum time you can get from that is twelve hours.'

‘Not enough,' Caradog said. ‘Once I've found my spot, I have to plant it as soon as I can. I need a longer delay.'

‘So then,' Dai said, ‘we have to think about a battery-operated clock, again ideally an alarm clock. In theory, that should give us up to 24 hours, but the instructions we have are not clear about the wiring. The best diagram is in the German booklet, but I can't understand what the instructions say. I suppose I could get a German dictionary and do my best. The English instructions are not clear at all.'

‘You have to get the timing right,' Caradog said. ‘Otherwise it's useless.'

‘It's not useless I'm worried about, man,' Dai Bach replied. ‘It's blowing myself to kingdom come I'm worried about. It's bloody dangerous to fool around with timing devices. If anything goes wrong when I put it in place with the dynamite, the whole lot could go up. I'm scared to do it, to be honest with you. I'm not sure what I'm doing.'

Trevor walked around the table and perused one of the instruction documents. He glanced over at the table.

‘The general principle seems the same, whatever you are using. You have to fix it so that the timer completes the circuit.'

Dai Bach shook his head.

‘Yes, thank you, Einstein. I had got that far. But a battery-operated clock is not the same as a mechanical clock. I'm sure it's easy if you've done it before. But I haven't. And then…'

He paused, seemingly reluctant to continue.

‘What?' Trevor asked.

‘One set of instructions says you can set the timer in such a way that after the set time, the device becomes unstable. That would mean…'

‘It would detonate if someone tried to move it or tried to disarm it,' Trevor said.

‘Yes. The trouble is, you need more equipment for that. I think you might need a mercury tube, and I don't know where we would find one of those, and even if I did, mercury makes the whole thing much more volatile. And whatever we assemble, I have to test it safely before Caradog tries to put it in place.'

‘Well, obviously, you mustn't test anything you're not sure about,' Trevor said. ‘Otherwise, I will have some explaining to do to Mr Watts about what happened to his garage. And it's no good asking me.'

‘There are some people we could ask,' Caradog suggested.

‘Who?' Trevor asked. ‘The FWA? The
Mudiad
? You said it yourself, Caradog. We can't risk that kind of contact with all the police activity going on now. We have to stay below the radar. I'm not sure I would trust them anyway. Are they clever enough to build what Dai wants to build?'

‘I wasn't thinking about them,' Caradog replied.

‘Well, who, then?'

Caradog fingered the alarm clock gently.

‘You remember some time ago, a few Irish lads came over and threw green paint all over the statue of the Blessed David Lloyd George?'

Trevor laughed. ‘I remember. It didn't strike me as the most intelligent protest in the world, I must say. I assumed it was the result of a few too many pints on the ferry from Dublin to Holyhead.'

‘It was a bit more than that,' Caradog said. ‘I was watching in the
Maes
at the time. They struck me as serious people. Just out of interest, I kept an eye on them and tracked a couple of them down later in the night, and we had a couple of glasses. One of them, name of Seán, told me he was with the IRA, which we are hearing so much about now. He called himself a unit commander, or something of the kind.'

‘And you don't think that was the Guinness talking?'

‘It would have been the Bushmills talking if it had been anything, and no, I don't think it was that. This wasn't his first visit to Wales, Trevor. He knew his way around, and he knew some people. He had met with some of the boys from the FWA. He had much the same opinion of them as we do. Amateurs, he called them. He said he wouldn't trust them far enough to work with them.'

‘Well, at least we can agree on that.'

‘Yes, but he said he was open to meeting some more serious people in Wales, if there were any. He gave me a phone number. I still have it.'

There was a long silence.

‘You don't know who you are dealing with,' Trevor said. ‘He could be Garda, Special Branch, Army even. If he is IRA, why should he want to get involved with us? If we contact him to say we can't work out how to make an efficient timing device, and can he please help us, he's going to lump us in with the FWA. It will just reinforce his view that everyone in Wales is useless.'

‘I don't think so,' Caradog replied. ‘His problem with the FWA is the same one we have – it's their lack of discretion. It's security he is concerned about. I think we could convince him that we are serious about security.'

‘How would you propose to do that?'

‘By going to see him, not asking him to come over here, and doing it very quietly.'

‘Where did he claim to be based?'

‘Belfast.'

‘Where, particularly?'

‘West Belfast, the Falls Road.'

Trevor considered for some time.

‘That's a high-profile place at the moment.'

‘It would be more high-profile for us if he came over here.'

Trevor nodded.

‘You're really sure you need help, Dai?'

‘Aye. I'm out of my depth, man. You were right, see. I
am
just a chemist.'

‘All right, Caradog. Call Seán,' Trevor said. ‘See if the number is real. But don't tell him what we want over the phone…'

‘Of course not…'

‘And listen very carefully to what he has to say. We don't move unless we are sure we are not walking into a trap.'

She asked him later that night. She was already in bed by the time he got home.

‘You've been spending a lot of time with Caradog and Dai Bach lately. You've had quite a few late nights. What on earth do you get up to, the three of you?'

‘We have a few drinks,' he replied, ‘and put the world to rights.'

She made a face at him.

‘Actually, we are talking about the demonstrations to come before the Investiture. I'm trying to make sure they don't get out of hand. You know what Dai Bach is like after three or four pints.'

She scoffed.

‘We have all been on demonstrations before, Trevor.'

‘Yes, but these will be bigger.'

‘We will see about that,' she said.

He laid her back down on the bed. Harri was sleeping peacefully in his bed in the small bedroom across the hall. The door was open and the sound of his gentle breathing floated into the room. She looked incredibly beautiful to him in her simple white night dress, and her hair had that wayward look it had when she had just woken up, which could drive him mad.

‘I didn't understand how strongly Caradog felt about Tryweryn,' he said. ‘He only told me recently.'

A sadness crossed her face.

‘Yes. It was my grandparents' generation, and those who came before. Well, you've met Uncle Stan and Aunt Jenny.'

‘Yes, but I never understood how personal it all was, all the time we were going to the demonstrations, all those years when we were fighting to stop them flooding the valley.'

She nodded.

‘It was very hard. We tried not to make it be about us, we tried to keep it political, to oppose them as a matter of principle. But that was very hard to do. It changed Caradog, I think. It's strange how things like that can change you even when it doesn't affect you directly.'

‘It's the idea that your family was violated,' Trevor suggested.

‘It's the sense of being powerless,' she replied.

‘What would you think?' he asked, ‘if I took the two of them away for a day or two of drinking and general trouble-making, get them away from this obsession with the Investiture?'

She laughed.

‘That might be a good idea. Did you have anywhere in mind?'

‘I thought we might take the ferry over to Ireland,' he replied.

‘You should be able to find some trouble to make there,' she said, with a smile.

She turned on to her side and settled, to go back to sleep.

‘Will you bring Harri to the shop tomorrow?' he asked. ‘I miss you both during the day.'