Collusion

shoulder ached.

‘Bastard cunt of a motherfucking whore’s son,’ he said.

30

Fegan sat in the darkness of a cheap motel room near Newark Airport, breathing hard. Had the phone really rung? He reached for it and thumbed a button.

No calls. He returned it to the bedside locker and lay back down on top of the blankets. The pillow was damp with sweat. He had dreamed of fire, of a little girl swallowed by black smoke as her screams turned to the sound of a phone ringing. Her name was Ellen McKenna and she would be almost six by now. Only months ago, Fegan had carried her past the bodies of men he had killed. She had closed her eyes and pressed her wet face against his neck, just like he told her to. Her skin had been hot against his.

The last time he’d seen her, she waved at him from the back of her mother’s car at Dundalk Port. It seemed a lifetime ago. He had told Marie McKenna to call the cheap mobile phone he carried with him if she was ever in danger. That phone had not left his side since. He rubbed his left shoulder with the heel of his right hand. The scar itched, like baby spiders burrowing beneath the shiny pink skin.

Fegan considered the dream. Could dreams break into the waking hours? He had come to understand the thin borders between this place and others. That was why dreams of fire and burning girls terrified him, made his gut tighten and his legs slip from under him.

Ellen’s mother never featured in these dreams. Fegan sometimes struggled to remember what Marie McKenna looked like. He remembered her on the dock, warning him to stay away, but her face had dissolved into something unreal. Like a person he had only imagined, who had never actually existed. When his phone rang, which he knew it would, she would be real again. He dreaded the moment.

But if – when – she called, he would go. He had sworn he would make her and Ellen safe. He had spilled so much blood in his life, but his greatest sin had been to drag Marie and Ellen into the violence that always seemed to gravitate to him. He had brought death to their door; he would do anything to prevent it crossing their threshold.

The room shook as a plane passed overhead. The call would come soon, he was sure of that. After that phone call, he would go to the airport and buy a ticket to Belfast. He would fly home to the city he thought he’d never see again and finish what he’d started. much blood in his life, but his greatest sin had been to drag Marie and Ellen into the violence that always seemed to gravitate to him. He had brought death to their door; he would do anything to prevent it crossing their threshold.

The room shook as a plane passed overhead. The call would come soon, he was sure of that. After that phone call, he would go to the airport and buy a ticket to Belfast. He would fly home to the city he thought he’d never see again and finish what he’d started.

31

‘What were you doing at Jonathan Nesbitt’s house yesterday?’ DCI Gordon asked, his hands folded on top of his desk.

Dan Hewitt stood silent in the corner.

Lennon looked at each of them in turn. ‘Just asking a few questions,’ he said.

‘About what?’ Gordon asked.

Lennon scrambled for some reply. Before he could come up with one, Gordon said, ‘I sent you home yesterday to get some rest, not to go harassing a decent man like Jonathan Nesbitt.’

‘It was only a few questions,’ Lennon said.

‘Pertaining to what?’ Gordon didn’t wait for an answer. ‘You go knocking on people’s doors, flashing your badge, your questions had better be relevant to an investigation I’m supervising. Were they?’

Lennon shifted in his seat. ‘Not directly.’

‘Not directly.’ Gordon pursed his lips. ‘Which is another way of saying “not at all”.’

Hewitt cleared his throat. ‘Look, we know why you went to Mr Nesbitt’s house, and we know what sort of questions you asked. Mr Nesbitt reported it to his contact in Special Branch yesterday afternoon. My colleagues weren’t best pleased. Not for the first time, I had to do some sweet-talking on your behalf.’

‘You owe DCI Hewitt your gratitude,’ Gordon said. ‘I was ready for dropping you from my team, but he’s convinced me to let it go. But you’re on thin ice, understand?’

Lennon sighed and nodded.

Gordon leaned forward. ‘Understand?’

‘Yes, sir,’ Lennon said.

Gordon’s face softened. ‘Look, you’re an excellent police officer. You should be a DCI by now, heading up your own MIT. Behave yourself, and you’ve got a good career ahead of you. Don’t get sidetracked by personal agendas.’

Lennon couldn’t hold his gaze. ‘Yes, sir,’ he said.

‘Good. Now, go on. Chase up the forensics on our friend Mr Quigley, there’s a good fella.’

Lennon stood and went for the door. As he walked down the corridor, Hewitt caught up with him.

‘I need a word,’ Hewitt said.

Lennon stopped. ‘What?’

‘Listen, Jack, I did you a big favour today.’ Hewitt kept his voice low and even. ‘You might never know how big.’

‘Well, I owe you,’ Lennon said, walking away.

‘I’m about to do you another one,’ Hewitt called after him.

Lennon turned. ‘Yeah? And what’s that?’

Hewitt walked past him and opened the door to the copy room. He looked inside, then beckoned Lennon to follow him in.

Lennon entered the room. ‘So what’s the favour?’

‘Me telling you to leave it alone, that’s what.’

Lennon smiled in spite of himself. ‘Funny, you’re the second person to tell me that since yesterday.’

Hewitt’s face fell. ‘Who else said it?’

Lennon put his hands in his pockets. A little bird.’

‘Jesus, Jack, tell me you’ll leave it alone, please.’ Hewitt took a step closer. ‘You know Special Branch doesn’t piss about. They’ll fuck you over soon as look at you.’

‘They? By they, you mean we. Right?’

‘Don’t put me in this position, Jack. I stuck my neck out for you today, and it wasn’t the first time. I’ve been a good friend to you, whether you think so or not. I’m being a friend to you now. Leave it alone.’

Lennon’s hands made fists inside his pockets. ‘For Christ’s sake, this is my daughter we’re talking about. She’s been missing along with her mother for months now. I know Marie was mixed up in that feud,the McGinty business, and no one’s seen her since. How do you expect me to leave it?’

Hewitt paced the floor as he considered. He stopped, nodded. ‘All right. I’ll tell you one thing, and one thing only. But promise me you’ll leave it alone.’

Lennon took his hands out of his pockets and flexed his fingers. ‘Tell me what?’

‘Promise me.’

‘I can’t.’

Hewitt stared hard at Lennon. ‘Promise me.’

Lennon’s shoulders slumped and he leaned against the photocopier. ‘Fuck,’ he said. ‘All right.’

Hewitt took a breath. ‘You’re right, Marie was mixed up in that feud.’

‘Jesus,’ Lennon said.

Hewitt held his hands up. ‘But only on the periphery,’ he said. ‘Not directly. She moved away just as a precaution. I don’t know where she is, but—’

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Jack, I—’