Sentence The Fivehundredandfiftyeighth

And it was the next morning. when Connor O'Hare from the County Clare set out to walk to his work at the Bus Garage, he paused at Mrs McGonnagle's shop to buy his morning paper. that he saw the placard which announced 'Goering Commits Suicide' and he felt a cold shiver travel down his spine; he bought the paper and with it in his hand continued on his way; and later, over a mug of strong tea and a cigarette in the canteen, he opened the paper and read the story, wondering where The Intruder might be in the city; and later still, as he drove his bus. with his conductress, Rosie

O'Grady, collecting the fares and asking passengers who were standing, to "move further up the bus," as they approached the next stop, that he caught sight of a lone figure, weary and bedraggled, plodding along, and recognised him as both the Reichsmarshall who had committed suicide, as the Intruder whom he had thrown out into the street during the night: Connor drove slowly past and watched the man, directly at first, and then in his wing mirror, and wondered what the Peelers would make of his story, if, and it was a pretty big 'if', he told them; Connor did not believe in ghosts and his senses told him that the man was no ghost, but if he was not, and the paper had displayed a photograph of the dead Reichsmarshall in his prison cell, who was he? a double, a doppelganger in German? or the 'real deal'? but then he had to brake sharply as a delivery van cut across his path and his attention became focussed on his route and the passengers he was carrying and it was only later still, in the canteen with Rosie, that he felt compelled to speak: he told her what had happened during the night and who he had seen on the street and Rosie, not herself particularly religious, but brought up a Catholic as had he, crossed herself and advised him to set his old animosity aside and tell the Polis, and Connor knew that she was right, though what good would come of it? he wondered; but so it was that, later in the day when, his shift over, he returned home, he found that his wife, Kathleen, had come to the same conclusion herself and after she had given the children and Connor their tea – mince and tatties – and titivating herself for the visit. the couple set out for the local Cop Shop, with

Snooker Tam's soiled newspaper folded in a paper bag, together with the cleaner one which Connor had bought just that morning, where after a bit of prevarication from the Desk Sergeant, they later found themselves sitting opposite Inspector Alex Ferguson and gave their account of what had taken place during the previous night and the sighting Connor had had while driving his bus; now. Ferguson was the product of a mixed marriage: his father, a Prod from Elgin had turned so that he could wed his sweetheart, a bonny wee Pape fae Tuam, and though he'd never been fanatically committed to his new religion, his son had followed it quietly and he was one of the fairer Peelers – although his religion had probably prevented him being promoted above Inspector, which was the same rank his father had held for 20 years – and certainly had never spoken uncivilly to Connor or Kathleen, and now he listened respectfully as they recounted the happenings of the previous night, and when they

had finished, he said: "right, now, so the facts seem to be that, on the one hand, this feller Goering, in this newspaper photo, alive and wearing a blue jacket, and in this other, is lying on a slab in Nuremberg and yet, at the same time is alive and well again, if a bit confused, in your hallway, am I right?" and Connor nodded: "at the far end, Inspector, as though he had just come through the door, but it's only a linen cupboard and doesn't lead anywhere," the Inspector cleared his throat: "and did he give a name?" to which Connor shook his head: "he said nothing, Inspector, in English or German or any other tongue, of that I'm certain," and Kathleen agreed, "right then," said Ferguson, "and after you threw him out, where did you next see him?" and Connor paused for just a moment: "in Renfield

Street walking North, on the right hand side, and I slowed as I went past him, to get a good bogle at him and he was definitely the same man, absolutely, and he was wearing the same raiment as in this photo, the blue jaicket, but it was covered in glaur, like he'd been rolling in parge, which he might have been when he landed in the street" he added with conviction, and the Inspector continued: "alright then, I believe you Mr and Mrs O'Hare, and I will treat this matter seriously, and distribute a photo of this Goering, or whoever he is, and see what my officers come up with – someone is sure to have seen him, but probably not thought anything about it, so I'll jog a few memories of the constables on patrol between your flat and Renfield Street and northwards, there's no saying whether he stopped somewhere or continued past Cowcaddens, but I will check with the stations covering that part of the city and see if we can't discover where he was headed, and I'll come back with you just now; who's through that wall from you, in the next close?" "just old Jessie Fallows," said Kathleen, "she's been alone since her Jim was killed in the Great War and her three boys all married and moved out, and I don't think she's much for sleeping," and Ferguson rubbed his hands together: "right, so, we check out the possibility, however small, of him gaining access to your flat from hers, unlikely, but needs must, just in case anyone comes back and asks if it's been checked; and you and your children keep your eyes open in case he returns, and if he does, send one of the boys here as fast as they can run, and if I'm off duty, the Sergeant out front will phone me and I'll come hot-foot, so, and that's the best we can do right now, until I hear back from any of the Beat Bobbies whose path he may have crossed; I'll try to plot his likely route on a map and see if that gives any clue as to where he may have gone after you saw him this morning," and as they rose to shake hands, Ferguson looked kindly at the young couple: "this is bound to be distressing for you, and I promise we'll get to the bottom of it, whatever it takes – I don't like things that can't be explained happening on my patch! this is hallowed ground and I don't like the idea of Nazi Generals, or their ghosts prowling about!"