The sand under his knee gave way slowly. The rain and seawater soaked up his trousers. He hesitated, tried again to speak through the tightness in his throat.
“Damian,” he managed. Little was standing over him, his hand working down his back. He stopped at his shoulder.
“You’re carrying, Matt? Well, my Jesus. What’s the world coming to. Where is it?”
“I took it out. Tommy — ”
The cold metal pressed against his head made him stop. He held his breath. The hand ran under his arm, pushing at his armpit, tugging at his coat. The pressure of the muzzle began to ease.
“Where’d you put it then?”
Minogue started to talk but couldn’t.
“You’re a fucking iijit, Matt. Where’d you put it?”
“Locked it up. I didn’t want to — ”
“Put your hands on the back of your head — that’s it, close your fingers. Now, roll over. Nice and slow.”
Minogue used his elbows to maneuvre. Little kept circling him, doubling back, stopping, walking again.
“We have to do some business, Matt. The timing’s not the best, I know. But you have some deciding to do. And you’re going to do the deciding for himself there in the boot too.”
The breeze made Minogue’s eyes water. He’d been trying to keep Little in sight as he walked.
“You’re too much, Matt. Things’d still be shaping up grand if Kilmartin wasn’t away on his bloody jaunt. What made you decide to come down here?”
“We’d lost the van.”
“You’ve got squad cars at both ends, haven’t you?”
Minogue said nothing.
“Tell them to walk, Matt, the one at Dollymount only. The walkie-talkie’s on the front seat. You and me and Tommy are heading back to civilization.”
Minogue took a breath. He spread his hands. The sand was like wet cement. “I want to see Tommy first.”
The flash and thump of the bullet as it tore into the sand beside him made his arms buckle. The ripples in the sand were like bones pushing up at his own. He covered his head with his arms. He felt Little’s weight move the sand near him. The voice wasn’t much more than a whisper.
“You’re not doing so hot here,” Little said. “Don’t be leaning on me. By rights you and your pal should be out there floating by the van. Up.”
Minogue stumbled once near the Opel.
“Wait a minute,” Little called out. Minogue watched the boot lid fall, heard it catch. Little shoved the lid again to be sure.
“Take the walkie-talkie out the window,” said Little. “Tell them.”
CHAPTER 31
The light didn’t go on when Minogue opened the door. He hesitated.
“On the driver’s seat,” Little said. “Take it out with you. Go on.”
“Mazurka to Alpha Bravo One. Over.”
“Go ahead, Mazurka. Over.”
Alpha Bravo One didn’t sound impressed. The slagging would filter back soon enough: now they’d screwed up, the glamour brigade in the Murder Squad couldn’t make up their minds what way to look.
“Okay,” said Little. “Put it back. You’re driving. Go on in.”
Little had the passenger door open already. The smell of the upholstery came to Minogue over the smell of the strand and sea. His pistol was an arm’s length away. He imagined its weight in his hand.
The Opel felt sluggish, too much travel in the clutch. The steering wheel wobbled as he crossed a patch of wetter sand. He turned away from the dunes.
“Do you know your way?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Keep to the right of that light there ahead of you. That’s the way through the dunes.”
Minogue geared up to third for traction.
“What about your fella back there,” he said. “The van?”
“He’s not my fella,” said Little. “And it was his lookout. He would’ve jumped ship sooner or later anyway.”
Minogue tried to set the wheels back into the tracks ahead.
“Don’t come the high and mighty here,” Little said. “They’re all bent, they’re all gougers. You know that. I just hope you see a bit of sense. For Tommy too.”
“As long as I know he’s — ”
“Don’t start,” Little snapped. “You don’t even know how close you came. It was me kept you and that bullet-headed gobshite in the back in one piece, so don’t start on me. Kathleen’s the widow who’s going to be in bits at the funeral, with the Killer and Tynan and all the fucking hoi polloi standing there — all because you couldn’t see straight! Christ, Kilmartin and his big mouth.”
“What does Jimmy know?”
“He doesn’t know a damned thing! Jimmy’s a gobshite. Blathering on there and making an iijit of himself there in the bloody papers. But you — I told them you could be trouble.”
Minogue grasped the wheel tighter. Lights appeared in a gap in the dunes.
“I couldn’t have stopped that mess this afternoon,” Little went on. “Even if I’d wanted to I couldn’t. I didn’t know about it until later.”
The line of sand looked like a sizeable bump. He let the wheel slide under his fingers. The car thudded as they hit. There was a squeak from the springs, a shuffling in the boot. He wondered if that had been enough to slide the gun back.
“Back over there,” said Little. “Stick to those tire tracks there.”
The dunes opened and streetlamps began to slide into the widening gap. The yellow glow from the center city grew brighter. Little shifted in his seat. He was soaked, Minogue realized.
“So, nice and easy, there. Get us out onto the Howth Road and we’ll see what’s what.”
There were two cars parked by the wall. One had fogged windows.
“Same as ever,” said Little. “Like rabbits. Tell me something.”
Minogue’s neck was beginning to cramp. He tried to ease it but couldn’t. Had the bumpy drive across the strand done anything for Malone? He looked across at the lights of the cars on the Clontarf Road. He couldn’t see any cars near the bridge.
Minogue let his hand rest on the gearshift. Not three feet away, he thought, but it might as well be three miles.
“Did you have any idea that there could be an insider?”
“I was sort of wondering,” he said. “There were a lot of closed doors.”
Little shoved the gun under his coat.
“Closed doors,” he said.
Minogue slowed for the light. No patrol car by the end of the bridge.
“You ever get locked out, Matt?”
“I, well, I lost the keys of the car a few times.”
“Not your car. Your house, your marriage. Your job, even.”
He let the Opel roll to a stop. He pushed it into neutral and pulled up the handbrake.
“I’ve put away some real gougers, Matt. I don’t mean just Saturday night pub champs, armed robbers even. I mean McGrane. Kennedy. Remember them?”
Minogue nodded.
“I wasn’t looking for glory either. It was pretty simple. They were a threat to the state. I swore an oath,
