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falling into an overstuffed leather chair and running a hand through his scant hair.
    “Precisely. Should that occur, it will not be an effigy they shall hang. All your attempts at forming a legitimate coalition for Home Rule will have been set to naught. It is vital that you help me, you see. I am your only hope of containing the more militant factions of the Brotherhood.”
    “If another series of bombings occurs, it could throw back the chances for Irish democracy thirty years or more,” Parnell agreed. “Believe me, gentlemen, I want to help you, but I know nothing about the bombings. I assure you, none of my associates had anything to do with them.”
    “Somehow, a group of factionists from the more radical fringe were able to smuggle in dynamite from America. They prepared and delivered their bombs and got away without being detected. Obviously, that requires a high level of organization. Who has such an ability to command men and use strategy among your compatriots? Who is both ruthless and radical enough to threaten the government and the Royal Family?”
    “I scarce can say,” Parnell said vaguely.
    “You need assurances,” Barker said patiently. “I know there are dozens of factions out there, with a like number of ideologies. Some are militant, others philosophical, and some are merely formed to take in money. I have one mission and one missionalone: to find the faction that blew up Scotland Yard last night. I must find them, shut down their operation, and turn them over to the authorities, and I shall do so privately. This is not for the newspapers. You cannot use this as proof of your sincerity, not publicly, anyway. Give me names, Mr. Parnell, the names of the more militant leaders among the I.R.B., or Clan Na Gael, or whatever they are calling themselves this morning.”
    “How do I know,” Parnell asked, “that what you uncover won’t go to the Special Irish Branch who’ve been kicking in doors and harassing innocent Irishmen?”
    “I’ve trusted you just now with privileged information that could be passed on to the press or to other factions because I believe your efforts to help the Irish people are sincere.” Barker moved over to the window and looked out into the street, his arms crossed. “Now you shall have to trust me. I cannot put it any plainer than that. The names, sir. In your heart of hearts, who do you think it might have been?”
    The Irishman picked up a silver case and lit a cigarette. His hand, I noticed, was not steady. Surreptitiously, I pulled my notebook out of my pocket.
    “You do realize what the punishment among the factions is for informing, do you not, Mr. Barker?” Parnell asked.
    “If you are referring to Peter Carey, who was assassinated for informing on the Invincibles last year, I do. They tracked him all the way to South Africa. But he had definite information and was one of the conspirators. I merely wish to be pointed in a direction.”
    “Very well. I cannot give you a definite name, but I can give you a list of a half dozen capable enough. There is Peter Davitt, O’Donovan Rossa, Michael Cusack, Alfred Dunleavy, Henri Le Caron, and Seamus O’Muircheartaigh. Most have spent time in prison, and Dunleavy and Le Caron have commanded armies. If he isn’t among one of them, he is unknown to me, and I’d like tothink that such a fellow would have been brought to my attention before now.”
    “Have you got all that down, Llewelyn?” Barker asked.
    “Almost, sir. I didn’t get the last fellow’s name.”
    “I know him,” Barker said. “I shall spell his name for you later. That is all I need of you, Mr. Parnell. We won’t take up any more of your time. Come along, lad.”
    Barker led me down the grand staircase to the lobby, where we evoked the scrutiny of the hotel manager. One cannot be faulted for leaving an establishment, however, and we left unhindered. Two thirds of detective work, I believe, is sheer brass.
    Outside, my employer led me to