‘You’ve had your go,’ Duggan said. ‘Unless you want me to start on you, you’ll leave him alone now.’
Chapter Twenty-Eight
‘You need to leave him alone,’ Karen said, once Barr had got out of the car. They’d parked outside a family restaurant next to the service station into which Barr had headed. ‘I’m not going to let you hurt him.’
‘Who? Dick?’ Duggan said.
‘Yeah, leave him alone, Hugh,’ Tony added. ‘You’ve been sending him errands all day. He’s not a skivvy.’
‘Don’t tell me what to do,’ Duggan snapped. ‘After all I done for them, for “the party”, the least they can do is a can of Coke and a fucking bar.’
‘He’s not “the party”. He’s just a kid.’
‘He’s a fucking prick,’ Duggan hissed. ‘Talking to me about being inside. Calling me Hugh like we’re old friends.’
‘I told him to do that. It was better than Mr Duggan,’ Tony said. He roused himself from his memories of Shauna Laird. ‘Karen’s right. We’re all in this together.’
‘We’re all in this together. I love that! You were barely in it thirty years ago; you spent your time changing your mind. Are you sure you’ll see it through today?’
‘Worry about yourself, Hugh,’ Tony said, trying not to get drawn down the path Hugh clearly wanted to take. He was spoiling for a fight, the drink he’d taken on the boat had made him as belligerent as Tony had feared.
‘Why are you even here?’ Hugh said, twisting to look at him.
‘To find Martin Kelly.’
‘No, I mean what’s the real reason.’
‘That is the real reason,’ Tony said, though he could not hold Duggan’s gaze, his eyes dropping to look at his hands. ‘I want his family to get his body back.’
‘Naw,’ Duggan said. ‘We all have our reasons for being here and none of them is for the Kelly family. If you’d cared that much you’ve had thirty years to call them and tell them where he is.’
‘Then why are we all here, Hugh?’ Karen asked. ‘What’s the real reason?’
‘For Barr, it’s because he wants to impress his uncle. For his uncle, it’s because he wants a promotion. With you, I’d say it’s because you’re just looking to forget and this is like a cut that never quite healed. You think if you give Martin back to his family, you can close the door on the whole thing and just go on with your life like it never happened.’
Karen said nothing and Tony suspected that Duggan hadn’t been far from the truth with her.
‘But him,’ Duggan said, pointing at Tony. ‘I can’t work out what he’s looking for.’
‘And what about you?’ Karen managed. ‘What’s your reason?’
‘I told you,’ Duggan said. ‘I’m looking for answers. And if I don’t like the answers, then I’ll be looking for revenge for Martin,’ Duggan said.
‘You’ll not get any answers from me,’ Karen said, opening the door. ‘I’ve nothing to say. I’m having nothing to do with hurting that boy. You can find the fucking grave yourselves.’
‘What’s wrong with her?’ Duggan said, watching her walk away from the car.
‘She’s right,’ Tony said, undoing his own seatbelt and opening the passenger door. ‘Martin Kelly was just a kid when we took him into those woods. I’m not doing the same again with Barr. You’re on your own, Hugh.’
He closed the door and moved around to where Karen sat at a picnic area outside the restaurant. ‘You OK?’
She nodded. ‘I should never have come. I should never have agreed to this.’
‘We thought you’d suggested it,’ Tony said, earning a glimpse of incredulity.
‘Why would I want to be here? With him?’ she added, nodding at Duggan. ‘I’m not getting back in that car.’
‘Nor me,’ Tony said. ‘We can get a taxi back to the ferry if you like?’
Karen shook her head. ‘I’m staying with family this evening and going back tomorrow.’
‘I’ll head back myself then,’ Tony said, trying to hide his disappointment at not have the opportunity to share more of the journey with her, alone.
The door of the car opened and Duggan struggled out. He walked, stiff jointed, over to where they stood.
‘We’re not discussing it further,’ Karen said as he approached.
‘I know,’ he nodded. ‘You’re right. I’ll speak to the young fella.’
‘What about?’
‘Getting Mullan to meet us at the woods. He’s in Scotland for this conference. If he wants Kelly’s grave, he’ll have to come and find it with us.’
‘And if he doesn’t?’
‘If you two are not on board, we go no further.’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
‘Unless you’re on board, we go no further,’ Duggan said.
It was the following evening, in Betty’s. They’d taken the same booth as the night before except now Karen and Tony sat on one side, Kelly and Duggan on the other.
Tony, to whom the statement had been addressed, raised his shoulder lightly in a half shrug.
‘Are you in or not? All this other shit you have to ignore.’
‘Ignore? A kid died taking drugs he sold.’
‘I liked Shauna,’ Kelly protested. His nose was swollen, both his eyes ringed in purple, his left eye bloodshot. Tony had resisted smiling when first he saw him, though felt silent satisfaction at the state in which he had left him. He sat erect in his seat, his own bruised fist in front of him on the table, a trophy.
‘You liked her? Is that why you let the whole bar see she’d blown you in the toilets to get a ten spot?’
Kelly shrugged. ‘I didn’t force her to do it. Same way I didn’t force her to buy anything, or take anything. She didn’t need leading to anything.’
‘You should have warned her.’
‘Aye, right. Warned her not to take three E tabs? Who the fuck would need to warn someone not to OD?’
‘Her death is on you.’
‘Seriously?’ Kelly asked. ‘Her death is on me? What the fuck do you think we’re doing here? The guy with no legs? He’s on you and your thermometers. And this fucker–’
Duggan raised his hand and Kelly responded, lowering his own voice, leaning across the table. ‘This fucker goes the same way, are you going to wash your hands of that? She has more balls than you do,’ he added, nodding at Karen.
‘Martin’s right,’ Duggan said. ‘You were angry, youse had a barney and now it’s done. That’s it. Martin’s ready to see this through, so the question is, are you?’
Tony straightened a little, glanced at Karen who stared at the table top, her fingers worried the edges of a beer mat, peeling back the layers of card beneath.
‘I didn’t think we’d be dealing with drugs.’
‘You’re not,’ Duggan said. ‘Everyone does what they’re comfortable with. But we need money to buy supplies, to buy information. Where do you think that’s going to come from?’
‘Drugs is too much for me. That wee girl was bright. She was a good kid.’
Tony could feel his eyes flushing, and reddened at that realisation.
‘She was an adult, who did adult things. Like we all are. I’m not debating morality anymore with you, son. None of us can judge anyone else at this table. But we have to trust each other. I trust Martin with my life. You all need to feel the same. Are you in or out? If you’re out, the whole thing is off.’
Tony sat silent, wishing that Karen might get involved, might express a view. If she backed out, he’d gladly have followed her. But if she was set on going ahead, he didn’t want to be the one she’d blame for it stalling.
Truth be told, he thought, he’d never really considered the reality of what they were doing. Sitting in the car, watching the house, talking with Karen, spending time in her company, going back to the flat afterwards, the sex, it all seemed like some game, a diversion from his life. He’d never considered really what would happen the man they watched, his sparrow movements, his p
recise nature. The truth was, he didn’t particularly hate the man; in fact, he felt nothing but indifference.
Unbidden, he saw Danny in his mind’s eye – crushed, broken, his limbs at angles from his body. He thought of Karen, cradling her dead father, a blood-stained kiss on his forehead. He couldn’t make this choice for her, deprive her of this, if this was what she wanted. Would she resent him if he backed out now?
‘I’m in,’ he said.
Karen sat back, letting the pieces of broken card fall from her fingers.
‘Good man,’ Duggan said. ‘We’ve things in place. Sunday will finish it. I’ll take care of everything else. For now, just keep an eye that there’s no sudden change in movements, change in habits. Anything that would suggest someone is talking.’
‘What are you going to do?’ Tony asked, and knew instantly it was the wrong thing to say.
Duggan looked at him askance. ‘Better you don’t know. You’ll find out soon enough.’
‘Be innocent of the knowledge till thou applaud the deed,’ he muttered.
Duggan looked at Kelly, who shrugged. ‘Whatever the fuck that means.’
‘It’s Shakespeare,’ Tony said, a little petulantly.
‘Fancy,’ Duggan said. ‘You’re raising the IQ in this booth by about two hundred per cent son.’
Tony knew Duggan well enough now to recognise the insincerity of the comment. For the first time, he felt totally out of place.
‘And youse need to split up, now,’ Duggan said. ‘No more paired surveillance. He’ll have had a chance to see you both together enough. Split up.’
Karen nodded, but did not speak, nor did she look at Tony. Across the table, Kelly extended his hand. ‘We good?’
Tony regarded him with disdain, and would have refused to shake had it not been for Duggan glaring at him.
‘Man up a bit, son, Shake his hand. What’s done is done.’
Tony wondered whether the quote was deliberate, decided it wasn’t. He took Kelly’s hand, briefly. His grip was light, his skin soft, yet Tony could not but feel an urge to wash his hands after touching him.
Duggan nodded with satisfaction. ‘Good man.’
Chapter Thirty
‘Good man yourself,’ Duggan said, taking a bottle of Coke from Barr who had returned from the shop. They had all taken up seats at the picnic table next to where the car was parked. The sky was grey, leaden, though the sun had broken through in places, gilding the edges of the lower hanging clouds. The rush of traffic barrelling along the road nearby was overlaid with the shouting of children playing in a small outdoor play area the restaurant had provided.
‘Everything OK? Barr asked.
‘We think your uncle should be there,’ Duggan said. ‘We’ve chatted between ourselves and we’re not going any further unless he meets us at the woods.’
Tony saw Karen bristle a little at the use of ‘we’, though she said nothing. Instead taking a series of small sips from her bottle of water, she focused on the grain of the wooden table at which they sat, tracing its swirls with her finger.
‘He won’t; he’s busy,’ Barr said. ‘That’s why I’m here.’
‘You’re here to drive us, son, no offence,’ Duggan said. ‘Your uncle was the one ordered it. It’s only right that he should be there.’
‘He’s not here, though,’ Barr said, looking around as if to evidence his uncle’s absence.
‘But he’s here in Scotland. He’s in Glasgow, giving a talk. There’s nothing stopping him. He could be at the woods before us, the way we’re travelling.’
‘Uncle Sean doesn’t know where Kelly is,’ Barr said. ‘Not exactly. If that’s what this is about, there’s no need for him to be there.’
‘He may not know where he is, but he knows better than anyone why he’s there. He was the one gave the final order for Kelly to be–’
An infant, perhaps no more than three years old, had toddled over to where they sat, a doll held up in her small fist. Duggan smiled at her, pantomimed surprise. ‘Isn’t that a lovely doll,’ he said to the child, who gurgled her delight at his attention.
Tony turned to see where her parents were and saw a harried couple standing at the entrance to the play area. The father was in his twenties, the mother in her late teens. Their other child, a twin of this girl, Tony guessed, had wandered into the park and was attempting to lift his leg high enough to climb onto a rocking horse on a thick spring coil.
‘Fuck’s sake,’ Barr said, moving away from them and taking out his phone. He moved out of earshot, perhaps for his own dignity.
‘What’s her name?’ Duggan asked, glancing at where Barr went, taking the arm of the doll in his own huge paw as he did so.
The girl said something which Tony could not catch, just as the mother realised where her daughter had gone and came rushing up towards them.
‘That’s a beautiful name,’ Duggan said, though he couldn’t possibly have understood the child’s response. He smiled at her, earning another giggle, just before her mother grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her away.
‘Sorry,’ she said, her voice nasal, her hair hanging in straggles in front of her face. ‘Emma, don’t be annoying folk.’
‘She’s grand,’ Duggan offered in placation, but too late to prevent both the forcible removal of the child and her screaming in protest.
‘I never took you for the type to play with kids,’ Karen said.
‘Sure, I’ve five of me own across two marriages,’ he said. ‘A grandkiddie on the way, too.’
‘Congratulations,’ Tony managed, the word dry in his mouth, bittered by the barren nature of his own retirement.
‘They’re in America. I never see them.’
‘Are you going across when it’s born?’ Karen asked.
‘Can’t,’ Duggan said simply. ‘They won’t let me in the country.’ He did not attempt to explain the reason for this. ‘What was I saying?’
Tony sensed Karen slumping a little in her seat, as if the flicker of humanity she had recognised in Duggan had been extinguished.
‘He was the one gave the order on Kelly,’ Tony said, for Karen had taken out her phone and was checking the screen for messages.
‘Are you recording this?’ Duggan asked.
‘Jesus,’ she said, holding the phone up. ‘I’m checking the kids haven’t called.’
Duggan raised his chin a little, mollified, then continued. ‘He was the one gave me the go-ahead on Martin. He was the one said without doubt he was convinced that it was Martin that had done it.’
‘Uncle Sean can’t make it,’ Barr cut into the conversation, causing Tony to start, having not heard his approach.
‘What?’
‘Like I said, he’s too busy,’ Barr said, attempting confidence but just missing.
‘Give me the phone,’ Duggan demanded, his hand outstretched imperiously.
‘He’s busy.’
‘Call him back and give me the phone.’
‘No,’ Barr said, surprising even himself with the comment.
‘Call him back and give me the phone, son,’ Duggan repeated. ‘This isn’t your fight.’
Barr hesitated a moment too long, before trying to argue again, but it was clear his resolve was crumbling. After two more such exchanges, he redialled and handed the phone across to Duggan. Then he stood uneasily next to the picnic bench, waiting for Duggan to finish.
‘Seanie,’ Duggan said lightly, once the call had connected. ‘We’ve been chatting here. We’re not going any further unless we know you’re going to be there.’
He listened for a second, nodding his head. ‘You’re not even an hour away: we’re probably the same… I don’t give a shit, pal. You don’t turn up, we’re not turning up.’
Tony could hear Barr muttering ‘Fuck’ repeatedly under his breath, as if he realised his first big job was going awry even as he watched, helplessly, sidelined from his own assignment.
‘We’re all in agreement. The three of us are sit
ting here enjoying the sun and we’re not going any further. We’ll all be back on that last crossing tonight, if you take too long, and we’ll not make it to the woods at all.’
He listened a second longer, raising his hand, indicating an unseeable wish to interrupt.
‘You need Kelly back. That’s not happened until you put yourself out the same way we have. That’s it. End of discussion.’
He ended the call and threw the phone back to Barr, then struggled to his feet. ‘I’m going for a piss,’ he said. ‘You can let me know when he calls back.’
Duggan had barely made it to the end of the pavement when the phone started buzzing again. Barr answered it and listened, his attempts to respond clearly being cut off by the caller. ‘OK,’ he said eventually and ended the call.
Duggan stood at the fence of the playground, watching up at them, waiting.
‘He’ll be there in an hour,’ Barr called.
Duggan raised his thumb in acknowledgment, then turned towards the restaurant once more. The child in the park had approached the fence now, delighted to see her new friend again.
The Last Crossing Page 14
