Page 105 of Hang on St. Christopher

I thought of the bloody CIA bug. This was all linked somehow. This was spook country shit. And I’d been exiled from spook country. No contacts. No way back in.

I was mulling all this over when the phone began ringing in Lawson’s office.

I put down the whisky glass.

“Carrick CID, Duffy here.”

“Duffy, it’s me, Superintendent Clare.”

“Good morning, sir, what can I help you with?”

“Nothing. Everything’s very much in hand,” he said with the very particular arrogance of a Special Branch detective superintendent.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call, then, sir?”

“Two things, Duffy. First of all, I heard you attended Locke’s wake.”

“Yes, sir, I thought I could pick up the odd tidbit of info.”

“And did you?”

“No.”

“I should have made myself clearer the other day. You should always make yourself clear with subordinates lest you be misunderstood. We are in the process of negotiating an interview with Mr. O’Roarke, and this has jeopardized the situation. Apparently, you annoyed the man while he was waking his friend.”

“I’m sorry about that, sir,” I said meekly.

“You could have got yourself hurt too. The Irish Republic is no place for a detective in the RUC to go gallivanting around.”

“No, sir.”

“Well, fortunately, the negotiations for the interview are back on track, and fortunately, you didn’t get yourself killed.”

“Yes, sir.”

“All right, then, Duffy. I’ll say my goodbyes.”

“Wait a minute, sir. You said there were two things we needed to talk about?”

“Oh, yes. There’s been a second murder that might possibly be related to our case. I don’t think it is, but you have to think laterally sometimes, don’t you? Do you know Eileen Cavanagh?”

“I can’t say that I do.”

“She’s in our files. Special Branch files. She’s suspected of being involved in half a dozen murders over the last decade.Suspected,mind you—never any forensic evidence of a crime.”

“What does ‘involved’ mean?”

“She was the button man. Button woman. She went to Libya in ’eighty-five. Turned out she was a genius with a sniper rifle.”

“I see. And now she’s dead?”

“Murdered early this morning. I’m at the scene now.”

“How do we know this is related to Brendan?”

“It’s exactly the same MO as Locke. She was living in South Belfast under an assumed name and an assumed identity. I’m looking at the transcripts of her telephone calls right now.”

“She made a lot of calls to a public phone box in Dundalk. Am I right, sir?” I asked.