McGinty was fighting his temper, Campbell could see it. “We’ve achieved more in ten years of politics than you did in thirty years of war.”
O’Kane nodded his head in mock respect. “Oh, aye. You achieved plenty.” He picked imaginary lint from McGinty’s lapel. “You lined your pockets and got yourself some nice suits. You got yourself a big limousine, a big fuck-off house with a sea view in Donegal. Aye, you did all right.”
McGinty’s face reddened. “So did you. We always kept you right. How many raids did my contacts tip you off on? How much property did the party’s legal team let you buy without your name going near it? And the security posts. We did that for you. We negotiated the dismantling of every British army post in South Armagh so you could run your laundering plants. The party did that. Don’t you forget it.”
Campbell’s hands tightened into fists as tension rippled in the air.
O’Kane stepped up to the politician. “So, you’re the big man now, are you?”
McGinty was tall, but he had to lift his eyes to meet the Bull’s stare. He swallowed and his tongue peeked out to wet his lips. “No. It’s not like that. But Jesus, think, Bull. There’s only one way out of this now.”
“And what’s that, then?”
“We give Fegan to the cops. Patsy Toner can testify he was there. We let the law take care of him. We’ll be seen to cooperate with the police. The Unionists can’t argue with that. They can’t threaten to walk, and we get off the hook.”
“He’ll tell them he did McKenna and Caffola. All your bullshit’s going to come back at you.”
, Campbell thought.
. His heart quickened.
“It’s too late to stop that now. Besides, the press about the cop will bury that. We let it be known that Anderson was leaking information to us before the ceasefires. All the attention will be on him, not us.”
The Bull stood still, holding his breath, and Campbell counted five seconds before he turned away. “No,” O’Kane said.
McGinty glowered at him. “What do you mean, no?”
“We let Fegan away with this, we look weak.
look weak. He’s a traitor, so we treat him like one. We make an example of him, just like we’ve always done.” The Bull’s voice rose to a roar as he stabbed the air with his finger. “He killed my cousin, for fuck’s sake. If I don’t take care of him, every fucker with a grudge will think I’m fair game.”
McGinty crossed the room to O’Kane. “For God’s sake, Bull, think it through. Think what it’ll cost us.”
“No.”
“Listen to me. Think ahead. Say the Unionists walk; say Stormont breaks down. You won’t have a friend in government to grease any wheels for you. You’ll suffer as much as me.”
“I said no, Paul. That’s all.”
McGinty gripped O’Kane’s massive shoulder. “Get your head out of the past, for Christ’s sake. Quit acting like a fucking street thug. We’re past all that now. You’re a dinosaur, Bull. You’re going to cost me—”
McGinty sprawled on the floor, blood spilling from his lip, before Campbell could even wince at the sound of the slap. Coyle stared. Quigley began to get to his feet, but O’Kane pointed a thick finger at him.
“You sit the fuck down.”
The driver did as he was told.
Campbell thought hard and fast. Quigley was too weak. Coyle was too stupid. He was McGinty’s only ally in this shell of a house. But Fegan couldn’t live. Not with what he knew about Francie Delaney and the two UFF boys.
He stood up. “Mr. O’Kane’s right,” he said.
McGinty looked up from the red blotches on his handkerchief. “What?”
“Fegan’s too dangerous. We need to finish him.”
O’Kane slapped Campbell’s shoulder. “Smart lad.”
McGinty got to his feet, his eyes fixed on Campbell. “Whatever you say, Bull. You’re the boss.”
“Good.” O’Kane slapped his hands together and grinned. “Now, get that woman and her kid down here.”
44
Fegan saw Mrs. Taylor’s sharp blue eyes in the window for just a moment before she closed the shutter, sealing out the darkness. His hand was half raised to wave, but she was gone. The dog barked somewhere inside the cottage. There were no lights from the hotel.
He walked from the parked car round to the hotel’s entrance. The door didn’t budge when he pressed it. Locked. Fegan turned in a circle, no idea what he was looking for. The moon was up there somewhere above the clouds, but below was darkness. Orange street lights formed a line along the bay and reflected off the river mouth, but the sea was lost in the black. Only the hard salt tang on the air and the sound of waves gave it away.
Sweat chilled Fegan’s body and his legs quivered. He’d pulled over twice on the way here to let the shakes subside. His tongue rasped against the roof of his mouth as he swallowed.
The dog settled down and its barks faded away. Quiet now, just the whisper of water on sand. Fegan hammered on the door to break the stillness. He stepped back and looked up at the windows on the first floor.
