Dixie nodded and trudged along the path, away from the crowds, towards the lonelier parts of the cemetery. Lennon followed.
When all around was quiet, and unkempt graves surrounded them, Dixie stopped walking. ‘Have you got your end?’ he asked.
Lennon nodded.
Dixie beckoned with his finger. ‘Let’s see it.’
Lennon took the envelope from his pocket, fat and heavy. ‘It’s all I have left,’ he said.
Dixie reached into his own jacket. ‘Then you shouldn’t have wasted it on this.’
He presented a packet around the size of a paperback book. Lennon handed the money over, and took the packet.
‘You didn’t get that from me,’ Dixie said.
Lennon nodded. ‘Of course not.’
He walked away, followed the pathways out of the cemetery, and back to his car.
Bernie McKenna answered her door after one knock.
‘What do you want?’ she asked.
‘You know what I want,’ Lennon said.
She shouted across the street. ‘Margaret? Margaret!’
Lennon heard a door open behind him. He looked over his shoulder and saw the teenage girl.
‘What?’
‘Get your daddy.’
The girl disappeared.
Lennon turned back to Bernie. ‘Where is she?’
‘Never you mind where she is. She’s none of your concern. Not any more. Now, go on, get out of here before Kevin comes over and gives you another dig in the mouth.’
‘I’m not going anywhere without my daughter,’ Lennon said.
‘I told you the last time, talk to my solicitor. You get proof you’re that child’s father, and then we can see about access.’
‘Bring her out here now,’ Lennon said. ‘That’s your last warning.’
A movement in the hall behind Bernie, then, ‘Daddy!’
Ellen ran towards the front door, arms outstretched, but Bernie intercepted her, scooped her away. A cousin, Lennon couldn’t remember which, appeared from nowhere and took the child from Bernie’s arms.
‘Are you back for more?’ Kevin McKenna’s voice called from behind. He stopped when he saw Lennon’s face. ‘Fuck me, somebody else got to you first.’
‘Walk away,’ Lennon said.
‘Fuck off,’ McKenna said, jerking his thumb in the direction of Lennon’s car, idling in the middle of the street.
When McKenna was ten feet away, Lennon drew the small revolver from his waistband, the pistol Dixie Stoops had sourced for him, and aimed it square at the big man’s forehead.
McKenna froze.
‘Go back inside your house,’ Lennon said. ‘Close the door behind you. I won’t tell you again.’
McKenna gave an uncertain laugh. ‘Oh, so we’re waving guns around now, are we? Don’t show me that unless you mean—’
Lennon cocked the hammer.
‘All right,’ McKenna said. ‘But you better keep one eye over your shoulder, boy. I’ll catch up with you before too long, don’t you worry.’
He backed away, across the street, into his house, slammed the door shut.
Lennon turned his aim on Bernie.
‘You’re insane,’ she said.
Lennon ignored her. ‘Ellen, come with me, love.’
Ellen writhed in her cousin’s grip. ‘Let me go,’ she hissed.
Bernie sneered. ‘Oh, the big tough man with the gun. Taking a child from her family.’
‘I’m her family,’ Lennon said. ‘Let her go right now.’
‘She’s not going—’
The cousin squealed as Ellen’s teeth closed on her hand. Ellen ran towards Lennon, slapped Bernie’s clutching hands away as she passed. She hugged Lennon around his waist.
‘Let’s go,’ she said.
Lennon kept his aim on Bernie as he backed towards his car. ‘Never contact me again,’ he said. ‘And stay away from my daughter.’
Curtains twitched all around, faces at windows. Lennon had no fear of a call being made to the police. Not on this street.
He didn’t hear Bernie’s response as he bundled Ellen into the back of the car and strained his way into the driver’s seat. He saw Bernie and the cousin in the rear-view mirror, running along the street behind him as he accelerated away.
‘You shouldn’t bite people,’ he said. ‘Put your seatbelt on.’
‘You shouldn’t point guns at people,’ Ellen said. ‘And put your seatbelt on. Are we going home to Susan and Lucy?’
‘No,’ Lennon said.
‘Then where are we going?’
For want of a lie, Lennon said, ‘I don’t know.’
Acknowledgements
As ever, I must thank those who helped me through the writing and publication of this book.
First and foremost is my agent, Nat Sobel, whose support and advice helped me through a very difficult time while trying to write this novel. And also Judith Weber and all at Sobel Weber Associates, and Caspian Dennis at Abner Stein Ltd.
My editors Geoff Mulligan and Juliet Grames; it is a great privilege to work with such talented people, and they make editing the most pleasurable stage of the process for me.
All the great people at Vintage Books and Soho Press, including Alison Hennessey, Bronwen Hruska and Paul Oliver. I’m very fortunate to have these partners in my career, and I can’t imagine doing it without them.
Special thanks to three people who helped me with some research points: Dr Denise Shirley for the medical insights; Caroline Kerr for explaining the legal stuff in simple enough terms for a dimwit like me to understand; Colonel Ant for the nuts and bolts of policing. And also Billy Scott for showing me all the parts of Belfast I never knew before.
All the writers, publishing pros, booksellers, reviewers, and my closer circle of friends, who are far too numerous to name. As ever, I’ll single out David Torrans and his fabulous bookstore, No Alibis, for his unwavering support. And Fiona Murphy for the ‘Where are my eyes?’ story.
My family for sticking with me: Issy, Ezra, and even Sweeney. Finally, my most heartfelt thanks to my wife Jo who put up with a very, very grumpy husband when the words weren’t coming. I really, really couldn’t have done it without you, my love.
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
Epub ISBN: 9781448138487
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Copyright © Stuart Neville 2014
Stuart Neville has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work
First published in Great Britain in 2014 by
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Table of Contents
Cover
About the Book
About the Author
Also by Stuart Neville
Dedication
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Gwen Headley May–June 1992
; Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Andrew 27th March 1994
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Wires December 2002
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Sickness and a Child 2nd February 1995
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
The Driver 19th March 2003
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Acknowledgements
Copyright
04-The Final Silence Page 25
