‘He backed the wrong horse,’ said Lynn. ‘Continuity and Real IRA are pariahs now and always will be. There’s no going back for them. And no going forward. The War on Terror has made sure of that. All terrorists are tarred with the same brush, these days. I tell you, Jonas, the Good Lord was smiling down on us. If we’d still been at war come Nine Eleven the Provos would have been smashed, no question.’
‘Aye, timing’s everything,’ agreed Filbin. He poured more whiskey into their glasses. ‘So what’s it like now, Belfast?’
‘Boom town,’ said Lynn. ‘If I didn’t already own a couple of houses, I wouldn’t be able to afford one. It’s gone crazy. We’ve got tourists photographing themselves in front of the Peace Wall and coach trips down the Falls Road.’
‘And the cops?’
‘None too happy with their new name and the fact that Sinn Fein are scrutinising their every move, but fuck ’em, hey?’
‘Aye to that,’ said Filbin. ‘Do you think it was the cops that did for your boys?’
Lynn sighed. ‘Who the fuck knows? The Brits swear blind it wasn’t, but how the hell would they know? If it was rogue cops they’d hardly broadcast what they were doing.’
‘The SAS settling scores?’
‘That’d be more likely in Joe’s case because he had a few run-ins with them. I dare say they wouldn’t mind giving me the old double-tap too, but Willie McEvoy was a wheel man and never shot anyone, let alone a Sass-man. In any case, the Sass are too busy in Afghanistan and Iraq, these days.’
‘Well, it won’t be the spooks because they can’t move these days without some parliamentary sub-committee or another breathing down their necks,’ said Filbin. ‘And they’ve got bigger things to worry about than settling old scores.’
‘Who would have thought London could be more dangerous than Belfast? Bombs on the Tube,nutters trying to get bombs on planes, buying job lots of fertiliser and planning to blow up shopping malls.’
‘Bloody amateurs,’ said Filbin.
‘They’re on a learning curve, same as we were in the seventies and eighties,’ said Lynn. ‘And they’ve got the advantage that they’re happy enough to blow themselves to kingdom come as well. We’d never have got guys prepared to kill themselves for the cause, but the ragheads are queuing up to be martyrs.’
Filbin grinned mischievously. ‘That’s because they’ve got seventy-two virgins waiting for them in Heaven.’
Lynn laughed. ‘Yeah, that was always a problem for us. We could never have found seventy-two virgins in Belfast.’
Filbin drank some whiskey. ‘I went to school with Joe McFee. Threw my first petrol bomb and did my first kneecapping with him. He didn’t deserve to die like that, shot like an animal.’ A faraway look came into his eyes. ‘Who’d do that, huh? You’re right about the spooks, though. MI5 and MI6 aren’t allowed to kill anyone. The cops and the army might have scores to settle, but the spooks are too cerebral for that. University graduates one and all.’
Lynn cupped his glass in both hands. ‘It could be the Prods, getting in a last hurrah,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t put it past them. They’re laying down their arms, so they say, but they’re not decommissioning and there’s some mad bastards who won’t listen to their leadership anyway.’
‘So what’s the plan?’ asked Filbin.
‘I keep looking over my shoulder,’ said Lynn, and patted his chest, ‘and I’m wearing a vest, though I’m not sure how much good it’ll do because McFee, Dunne and McEvoy were all shot in the back of the head.’
‘And the knees, right?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Which is how the RUC Special Branch guy died, isn’t it? I’m assuming that’s not a coincidence.’
Lynn’s eyes narrowed. ‘What big ears you’ve got,Grandma. The cops haven’t revealed the details, just that they were shot.’
‘I might be a farmer these days but I’ve still got friends in the North. I’m told that Joe and the guys were killed the same way Robbie Carter died.’
‘That’s what I’ve heard, yeah.’
‘Then it’s as obvious as the nose on your face. Someone’s taking revenge for what you did to him. Family or friend. Has to be.’
‘The cops say they’re looking at that, but they won’t tell me what they’ve got, if anything. I made a few enquiries myself. Carter’s parents are old, he’s got a brother in Canada and his widow’s got no connection with paramilitaries. Neither has her family.’
‘So that just leaves the whole of Special Branch.’ Filbin scowled.
‘We killed Carter in 1996,’ said Lynn. ‘I know revenge is a dish best served cold but waiting this long is ridiculous.’ He grinned at Kelly and Nugent. ‘Anyway, with these guys babysitting me, no one’s going to get near me.’
Kelly lifted his mug of tea in salute. ‘That’s the plan, anyway,’ he said.
‘What about Noel Kinsella?’ asked Filbin. ‘Who’s taking care of him?’
‘He’s thrown in his lot with the Brits,’ said Lynn, contemptuously. ‘He’s got the cops watching over him – and the spooks as well, from what I hear. Lying low in London until they get the killer.’
‘Is it right he’s been promised something in the new Assembly?’
‘Apparently.’
‘And that he’s married well?’
Lynn chuckled. ‘A Kennedy.’
‘Well indeed, then,’ said Filbin.
‘It’s a love match, I’m told.’
‘There’s only one person Noel Kinsella loves and that’s himself,’ said Filbin. ‘Between you and me, I never really trusted him. Always out for what he could get.’
‘He’s destined for better things now,’ said Lynn. ‘In his own mind, anyway.’ He paused. ‘I’d better be going.’
‘Stay the night, Gerry. There’s a spare bed.’
‘We can be back home in a couple of hours,’ said Lynn. ‘It’s motorway and there’ll be no traffic this time of night.’ He drained his glass. ‘It was good to see you, Jonas.’
Filbin hugged him. ‘You be careful, yeah?’ He kissed Lynn on the cheek.
Kelly and Nugent pushed themselves out of their chairs and shook his hand. ‘You take care of this man now,’ he said.
Kelly and Nugent walked with Lynn to their Lexus. Nugent climbed into the driving seat and Lynn sat next to him. Kelly walked to the barred metal gate at the entrance to the courtyard and opened it.
Nugent drove slowly across the cattle grid and waited while Kelly closed the gate and climbed into the back.
‘Right, boys, don’t spare the horses.’
Nugent headed slowly down the gravelled track that led to the main road. As they left the farm, he flipped on the full headlights, their powerful beam flooding the track ahead. A fox hurried away, its tail low, and an owl soared into the darkness.
‘He’s real old-school, Jonas, isn’t he?’ said Nugent.
‘Careful what you say. He’s not much older than me,’ said Lynn.
‘I meant politically,’ said Nugent.
‘He wasn’t over the moon about power-sharing, but Jonas is a realist. That’s the way it’s got to be if we’re going to win the long war.’
‘What’s going on up there?’ asked Kelly, peering out of the side window.
Lynn squinted through the windscreen. A Land Rover was in the ditch to the left of the track, its bonnet up.
Nugent slowed the Lexus. ‘An accident?’
‘Ignore it, man,’ said Kelly. ‘Just put your foot down and get us past it.’
‘I don’t see anyone, do you?’
