Before Davies could reply, Allen said:
'Agnes is taken away. They took her away, you see.' His voice trailed off. Then he stared at Minogue.
'She was hit,' Davies said. Minogue concentrated on the accent: 'hot' for hit.
'Minogue,' Scully said.
Minogue heard the reprimand in Scully's voice.
'Loftus. I know I don't have to tell you anything. You know Loftus? Yes. Loftus. You could say he is… very, resourceful. He is quite without any…' Allen whispered.
He looked up at Minogue.
'No. You needn't ask. It wasn't voluntary on my part… Not at all, I can assure you.'
'Who else?' Minogue asked
'People on the phone. I don't know'
'Was there an American?' Minogue asked
Allen's brow knitted over.
'An American,' Minogue repeated.
'I'm not sure. I don't know.'
'What's in the car?' Minogue said
Allen grinned but his eyes held the fright, unchanged. Minogue saw that Allen's eyes were blinking rapidly.
'I don't know. I really don't,' he whispered.
Minogue looked at Scully. Davies was pushing back the cuticle on a nail.
'But there was something.'
'I suppose. They said-'
'Who?'
'On the phone… that's all.'
Minogue waited before asking. Then he spoke slowly.
'Where does Jarlath Walsh fit in?'
Allen stared at his handcuffs. Minogue asked again.
Allen looked up at Minogue. His eyes were wet, blinking.
'That wasn't my decision at all. You should understand that,' he whispered hoarsely. 'I had no hand, act or part in it.'
'In concealing evidence you did.'
Allen stared at him for a moment. Minogue saw some defiance in the stare before the eyes slipped out of focus again.
'You don't know half of it, Minogue. Nothing,' he said.
'Tell me then,' Minogue said, 'You've nothing to lose now.'
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The train jolted to a halt with the rattle of couplings.
The older man stood and stretched.
'Canadian? Are they fond of their beer there, tell me.'
'Fairly.'
The tanned man followed them out onto the platform. Groups of people were wrestling luggage down toward the rear of the platform.
He looked at some of the others walking down the platform. A couple with a sleeping child and too many bags. A heavy-set man, his suitcase tied with a belt, walking unsteadily.
'Is there a big line-up here?' he asked the red-faced navvy.
'Ah no. Nothing to it. Sure they know the half of us going across.'
'What about a ticket?'
'Go round the corner there. There's a sweet shop and a ticket office at that gate in. Here, hold on, I'm going meself.'
He saw no police. He couldn't ask the navvies about the police. The red-faced navvy was paying for his ticket ahead of him.
'Cabins?' The red-faced man was saying to the woman behind the counter.
'Do I look like Jack Tar or something, like Moby Dick? What would I want a cabin for? Here look after your man here, he's a Canadian. He's a long way from home.'
The tanned man grinned, but he felt an icy touch. He didn't want any attention drawn to himself.
After he bought the ticket, they rejoined the other two. They were now leaning against the wall at the end of the passageway leading to the passenger entrance to the ship. He smelled the pungent air, a mix of fish and engine oil. Through the window he saw Dun Laoghaire pier and the waving masts of moored yachts. Isolated figures walked from light to light along the pier.
'Me belly thinks me throat is cut,' the short navvy said.
'Give over bellyaching, Joey. There's plenty of gargle on the bloody boat. We'll be on in a minute,' the older navvy said.
A uniformed member of the crew opened the doors leading to the gangplank. Two men in grey overalls stood next to the gangplank, idly looking at the waiting passengers. The line began to move.
The tanned man practised his breathing to ease his tension.
'No big deal, is it,' he said. 'They don't make a fuss, do they?'
'Why would they? Sure aren't they glad to be sending us back? There's no jobs here,' the older navvy remarked wryly.
Another member of the crew walked down the gangplank. Still, the tanned man saw no one that looked like the police. He shuffled along beside the red-faced navvy. They were within a dozen people of the doors. Then he saw a stocky man standing to the side of the doors, outside. He looked to the other side of the door, but he could not yet see far enough around the jamb.
'Aye, aye Captain!' the red-faced man called out to the two crew-members. Both looked over at him. One of them grinned.
'Here, look it,' he said to the other one.
'Well lads, did you fix the hole in the boat?' the older navvy asked loudly.
Both crew members were grinning now.
'Where would a fella get a bit of refreshment here, Admiral?' the small navvy called out.
'Yiz could try a swim. That's very refreshing,' one of the crewmen said.
'Very funny. Pass the chicken, the feather's worn out. We'll see yiz later, hah?' the small navvy said.
The tanned man had lost the breathing routine. His neck felt as if it were in a vice grip. As he stepped through the door jamb he saw the other cop, his hands in his pockets, looking over the faces. He cursed the wit of the three navvies for drawing attention to themselves. Better not try to avoid their eyes. Look surprised, a bit puzzled. The cop on the left was looking at him. Without thinking about it, the tanned man had drawn his elbow in so that he could feel the gun under his arm. He couldn't see any metal detector. He stopped breathing.
Minogue did not speak on the way back to Dundalk. Agnes McGuire's face kept pushing his thoughts aside. Occasionally he noticed that the detective beside him was watching him. Scully sat in the front looking ahead. The most that Minogue knew about her came from Davies, who reminded him somehow of a stale room. Davies was making little of it, as an object lesson for what he saw as Free State clodhoppers who needed instruction in the violent ways of the North. Davies probably wouldn't admit that the whole thing was out of his hands anyway, that he was dragged in to front the operation for the British Army.
Minogue had stood beside the customs post back on the Republic side while Scully radioed in a report to be passed on to Dublin. He watched as the vehicles drove out of the aura of light back up the Belfast road. The floodlights turned off all at once. There were more troops and police on the Republic side than when they'd crossed. They had stood around, not sure what to do. Then they began dispersing.
