In Dublin's Fair City (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #6)

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I muttered. “What is it that you think I am? Queen Maeve and the Blessed Virgin all rolled into one? Now how do you expect me to overpower a guard?”


“You’ll have your smelling salts with you, like all delicate young ladies.”

“I’ve never touched smelling salts in my life.”

“I’m sure of it,” he said, chuckling. “However, this time you’ll be carrying smelling salts. Only the bottle will contain chloroform. You’ll sprinkle a few drops on your hankie, hold it over the guard's face, and there you are.”

“There I am?”

He was still smiling. “You’ll be ready to hand over his keys when our lads break in.” “I will, will I?”

“You will. This is what's going to happen. We assume that your brother will be brought to meet you in the interview room near the front entrance. You’ll claim to feel faint, use your smelling salts, and overpower the guard. Take off the guard's jacket and put it on your brother. After you’ve been in there ten minutes, there will be an explosion at the main entrance,” he said. “Lots of smoke, confusion. You’ll run out shouting for your brother to stop, letting everyone know that he's getting away.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because at that very moment your other brother, Liam, will appear outside the front door, dressed in prison garb. He’ll be spotted through the confusion. Everyone will set off to chase him. Some of us will slip in, overpower any other guards we find, and release what prisoners we can.”

“And what about Joseph? How will he get out?”

“He’ll be wearing a guard's jacket. What would be more natural than for him to run out and give chase with the other guards?”

“And me? How do I get out?” I tried not to let the fear show in my voice.

“You’ll make your way to the front entrance and slip out any way you can during the confusion.”

“It sounds too simple for words,” I said. “Make my way to the front door? Isn’t it likely the guards are going to stop me?”

“Then you will play your trump card, my dear. The helpless and ter-rifled female, innocently visiting her brother when this terrible thing happened. You’ll cling to their strong arms and beg them to save you.”

“I see,” I said.

“We’ll have transport waiting and a ship ready at the mouth of the Liffy to take us to France.” “To France?”

“Where else do you think we’d go? To London, and book ourselves into the Tower?”

“So Liam and Joseph will be going to France?”

“Hopefully to train and come back home to run future missions for the Brotherhood.”

“I see,” I said again. I didn’t know what else to say. In truth I was numb with shock about the whole thing. I wanted to do this less than anything else in my life so far, and that included fleeing to America after I thought I had killed Justin Hartley. But I didn’t want my brother to be hanged either. There was no way out except through Kilmainham Goal.

In the meantime there were several days of waiting ahead of me. Several long days with nothing to do except replay that jail scene over and over in my mind. It was all too fantastic to be real. I felt like an overwound watch spring about to snap. Being cooped up in that attic bedroom was more than I could bear. It rained, washing out all color from the scene outside my window, and adding to the gloom that now hovered over me. My nights were full of disturbed dreams in which a noose figured prominently and that executioner from the ship kept appearing.

I had begun to understand what Daniel had been going through. Now, for the first time I truly appreciated what it was like to fear for one's life, to be cooped up with one's whole future in jeopardy. Of course he had been short tempered and tense. Of course he had tried toprevent me from doing anything dangerous. I should have been more understanding. I had worried about making a future commitment to Daniel, thinking that the fault was his, when in fact it had been my own. Spouses support each other in their hour of need. I pictured his smile, his dark unruly hair, the way he looked at me and wished fervently that he would somehow know I was in danger and come to take me away.

After a couple of days like this, I could stand it no longer. I came down the stairs and let myself into the kitchen. Mary Ann looked up from the table where she was rolling dough.

“Molly, what is it?”

“I can’t stand it up there,” I said. “I’m going mad. Put me to work. Give me something to do with my hands. If Father asks, I’m a new kitchen maid you’re training.”

She smiled. “Very well. There's an apron hanging on the hook over there. You can get started cutting out these tarts.”

We worked side by side.

“Lady Ashburton inquired about you this morning,” she said. “She hoped all was well with you and sent you her best wishes.” “Lady Ashburton? You saw her?”