'What did you have to hit me for, then?'
'You might be ten kinds of death-wish on legs, Jack, but I still enjoy my life. I did what I had to do. And you should be grateful, so take a Panadol and shut the fuck up with the whining already.'
Ryan gurgled again, hissing through wet lips, his face contorted with pain.
Liam turned to Delaney and held the gun out. 'Do you want to do it?'
Delaney made no move to take the pistol. Liam nodded then fired two bullets into the kneeling man's head. He slumped sideways and the gurgling stopped.
Delaney looked at the dead body. He wasn't sure what to think any more. 'What now?'
'Now, cousin, we walk away from here.'
Delaney shook his head. 'We can't. There's DNA all over the place. You go. Leave me the gun.'
Liam reached into his overcoat and pulled out a large brown packet. 'Did you know Mickey Ryan was in big with the old IRA? Back in the seventies?'
'No.'
Liam nodded. 'Back in the day he made a fair few bob out of it. Pissed a fair few people off too. People who didn't take the laying down of arms at all happily. Formed new groups.'
'The Real IRA?'
Liam shrugged. 'Amongst others. Either way, he's on a list. And this . . .' he tossed the packet on the workbench, 'is the boys' old friend.'
'Semtex?'
'There won't be enough left of Mickey Ryan, his sidekick, or this garage to fill a teaspoon.'
Delaney nodded. It didn't feel like closure. He just felt empty.
'I guess that makes us even, Liam.'
'Hardly.' He handed back his mobile phone. 'Thought you might like this back.'
'Thanks.' Delaney flipped it open and pushed the speed dial for Kate Walker.
'Jack, where the hell have you been?'
Liam smiled, he could hear every word. 'What is it with you and feisty women?'
'Are you still at the station?' Delaney asked Kate.
'Yes, I'm still here.'
'Good, stay there. I'm on my way in.'
*
Sally Cartwright looked at her watch for the fifth time.
'Has he stood you up, Sally?'
'Yeah, funny, Danny.' Sally flashed a none too amused smile at her colleague at the other end of the table. There were a few of them there, having a drink or two and, as yet, Michael Hill hadn't shown up. Danny, jealous that she was going out for a curry with him, had been making snide little remarks, doing himself no favours in her book at all. But she wasn't worried about Michael, she'd seen the eagerness in his puppy-dog eyes. He was probably nervous. No, it wasn't Michael Hill who had her looking at her watch, it was Jack Delaney she was concerned about. There was a darkness is his eyes when he had left her on Shaftesbury Avenue. Something darker than she had ever seen before.
A cheer went up from Danny and a couple of his mates as Michael Hill eventually came in and walked over to join them. Sally thought he looked nice. Black jeans, a nicely ironed white shirt and a black jacket.
'It's Rhydian!' Danny called out. 'Go on, sing us a song.'
