Oscendale sat on the dockside mooring post and gazed across the oily water to Barry Island. The rows of tightly packed houses, built to be rented to the dockworkers, glared back at him, their untidy, scrambling lines crawling up and down the contours of the hills. The docks around him were alive with the hustle and bustle of a busy port. He opened his palm to reveal once more the collection of diamonds he had found in the packet that Bratton had sent home to his parents. It was their way out of the hand-to-mouth existence they found themselves in and through which they would struggle for the rest of their lives. And not just their lives. Their remaining son would follow the same course and the whole cycle of deprivation, coupled with hard work and hard drinking, would shadow his descendants as well.

Oscendale pondered on the way that fate dealt out fortune. If they had opened the brown packet their lives would have been changed forever. As it was, he had removed the packet of stones and slipped them into his pocket before Mr Bratton had re-entered the kitchen. They would never know how close they had come to wealth beyond their dreams. The stones would be added to the others he had recovered, passed through the hands of various departments and disappear into the wealth of the government.

“Well, how did it go?” Kathleen appeared at his side and stood over him, her back to the dock.

He opened his hand once again and the morning sun caught the jewels, their brilliance flashing in the light.

“A package from the Front that would have changed their lives,” he responded.

Her eyes gazed at the jewels and then shifted to his. Her hand went to her handbag and brought out a pistol which she aimed directly at his forehead. A quizzical look came across his face and he wondered whether this was not all part of a mad, bad dream and that really he was back in France not in this nightmarish scene.

“Give them to me, Tom,” she said quietly. “Do it without fuss and you won’t get hurt.”

He knew it was a lie. As soon as the bright stones were in her hand she would shoot him. The noise of the shot would be lost amongst the noise of the docks. She would walk quickly away and his lifeless body would be dismissed as another drunken sailor sleeping off a good night in the ‘Chain Locker’ before someone got closer and realised there was blood seeping from the hole in his head.

“I don’t understand. Why do you want it, Kathleen? You’ve never struck me as the mercenary type.”

He was confused, bewildered. What was going on here? “Tom, there are wider issues in this war than you will ever realise.”
“Try me.”

He had no idea where this was leading. Was their relationship all about this? Had this been what she had wanted all along? Walking, talking, loving. All to this end?

The gun wavered for a moment as she pondered whether to kill him now or in a few seconds. He would like to think that something would affect that decision, something of the nights they had spent together, the closeness they had had for the past few months.

“This war is not about German imperialism, Tom. It’s about the British and their bullying attitude towards other countries.”

“Yours?” he ventured.

“Yes. Our politicians tried the peaceful way but the British weren’t having it. Now it’s time for some direct action.”

“But you’ve tried that. The Easter Rising in April was a bloody disaster, you know that.”

He had noticed that Kathleen was standing near a wire hawser that snaked along the quay. He had also noticed a snap of movement along its length some twenty yards away. If he prolonged this discussion someone might spot the snagged cable and approach to rectify the problem.

“So it’s to be sold to buy more guns. Don’t you think that you and I have seen enough killing? For God’s sake you don’t want to watch more men die, do you?”

The compassion flickered across her face but was quickly gone.

“This is different. This is for my country and the issues are not the same.”

“It’s always the same. Don’t fool yourself. When did you decide to do it?”

And the look told him everything. He cursed himself for being so blind. He had allowed her to get under his skin and it became a torment. She had used him from the beginning. He had foolishly shared parts of the case with her and she had accompanied him back to Barry to kill him and take the diamonds.

“But you couldn’t know I’d find anything in Bratton’s house.”

The cable twitched again and began to tauten.

“I must admit it was a bonus. I thought I’d missed out completely when you handed the other lot in and I’d have to shadow you for longer. But now my job is done. Don’t think it wasn’t good while it lasted, Tom, but it’s over now.”

She raised the pistol a fraction and as she did so the cable broke free from its obstruction and whipped along the dockside. It lifted from in front of her feet, flew into the air and caught Kathleen flush under the jaw. She was catapulted backwards into the dock. The gun flew harmlessly into the air and her body sank lifelessly into the black oily water.

Oscendale rushed to the edge of the quay and stared hopelessly into the water, hoping to see her rise to the surface. After several minutes he knew it was over. She had certainly been rendered unconscious when the cable struck her and could have even been dead already before she hit the water. Life went on around him. No one stopped their work, no shouts of alarm were heard and Kathleen Morrison became yet another body to sink to the bottom of Barry’s Number One Dock.

The Dead of Mametz by Jonathan Hicks is out now priced £8.95, published by Y Lolfa (www.ylolfa.com)

Double Crossing Diamonds