Shepherd knew of Donaldson, a dyed-in-the-wool Republican who had been an active IRA member right through the Troubles. After the ceasefire he became Sinn Fein’s office administrator in Stormont but he was blasted four times with a shotgun in his cottage in County Donegal after being exposed as a long-time informer and British agent. Shepherd knew that Kinsella was right. If it became known that he’d worked for MI5 he’d be a marked man.
‘You hear what he’s saying, John?’ said Button. ‘You can’t shoot an MI5 agent.’
‘He’s an IRA killer who didn’t serve a day for the death of Robbie Carter, and now he’s going to get what he deserves,’ said Maplethorpe. ‘Just because he says he worked for MI5 doesn’t make it so. He’d say anything to save his skin.’ Maplethorpe’s finger tightened on the trigger.
‘John, don’t!’ shouted Shepherd.
‘Wait!’ said Button. ‘Noel, if what you’re saying is true, who was your handler?’
‘Why does that matter?’ asked Kinsella.
‘If you really were working for MI5, you’d have had a handler,’ said Button.
‘Who the hell are you?’ asked Maplethorpe.
‘It doesn’t matter who I am,’ said Button.
‘She’s your boss?’ Maplethorpe asked Shepherd. ‘Or does she work for you?’
‘Like the lady said, it doesn’t matter who we are,’ said Shepherd. ‘What matters is what happens over the next few seconds. Lower your weapon, John.’
‘That’s not going to happen,’ said Maplethorpe. He took half a step closer to Kinsella. Kinsella flinched and put his hands in front of his face.
‘Ellis!’ shouted Kinsella. ‘My handler was Patsy Ellis!’
Button’s eyes widened. ‘Do you know Ellis?’ asked Shepherd.
‘Yes, I know her,’ said Button. She looked at Maplethorpe. ‘John, listen to me. Patsy Ellis works at the Joint Terrorism Analysis Centre and used to head up MI5’s Belfast office.’
‘Makes no difference,’ said Maplethorpe, through gritted teeth.
‘It makes a world of difference,’ said Button. ‘Ellis wouldn’t be handling small-fry. If she was his handler, he was an important intelligence source.’
‘He’s a murderer,’ said Maplethorpe, ‘and now he’s going to get what he deserves.’
‘Tell me one thing before you pull that trigger and this all turns to shit,’ said Shepherd.
‘What?’
‘Why would you throw everything away for this scumbag? You killed McFee, Dunne, McEvoy and Lynn, right?’
‘Bloody right,’ said Maplethorpe.
‘And you did a good job. Got clean away. No forensics, no witnesses.’
Maplethorpe grinned. ‘I knew what I was doing.’
‘Agreed,’ said Shepherd. ‘So why this? Why in front of witnesses? Why throw it all away? You want to spend the rest of your life behind bars, is that it? Do penance for what you’ve done?’
‘He doesn’t care any more,’ said Button. ‘He wanted all five dead, and Kinsella’s the fifth. Once Kinsella dies, it’s over. He doesn’t care what happens to him.’
‘That doesn’t make any sense,’ said Shepherd.
‘It does when you know he’s dying,’ said Button.
‘How did you-’ Maplethorpe stopped mid-sentence. He glared at her. ‘Who the hell are you?’
‘He’s got a brain tumour,’ said Button. ‘Inoperable. He’s getting headaches now, and blurred vision, but in a few months he’ll be having more serious symptoms. Fits. Hallucinations. Memory loss. How long did the doctors give you, John?’
‘Long enough to put my affairs in order,’ said Maplethorpe. ‘Long enough to do what I have to do.’
‘He’s taking early retirement on medical grounds,’ said Button. ‘But the doctors have told him there’s nothing they can do and that at best he’s got six months.’
‘Do you understand now, Jamie?’ said Maplethorpe. ‘Do you understand I’ve got absolutely nothing to lose?’
‘I will shoot you, John.’
‘You keep saying that, Jamie. But here’s two things to think about. One, are you capable of pulling that trigger?’
‘Yes,’ said Shepherd, emphatically.
‘And, two, will you be able to shoot me before I pull mine?’
‘Yes,’ said Shepherd.
‘Because that will make you a murderer, and that’s something you’ll have to live with for a lot longer than six months. Killing changes you, Jamie. It changes you for the worse. I’ve no regrets about what I’ve done, but I’m able to do it because I know I don’t have much time left. If you kill me, you’ll spend the rest of your life knowing you killed a man who was doing the right thing. They killed Robbie Carter, they took away a good husband and a loving father. They killed my friend. So killing them is the least I can do.’
‘Don’t do it, John,’ said Shepherd.
‘He will,’ said Button. ‘He will shoot you.’
Maplethorpe’s finger tightened on the trigger. He smiled at Kinsella. ‘See you in hell, you murdering-’
The bang was deafening in the confines of the hotel room. The side of Maplethorpe’s head exploded and a red spray splattered across the wall. The acrid cordite made Shepherd’s eyes water and he blinked hard, took aim again and put a second shot in Maplethorpe’s chest. Maplethorpe slumped to the floor.
Kinsella backed away from the body, his mouth hanging open.
Maplethorpe stared at Shepherd with unseeing eyes. The gun fell from his nerveless fingers and clattered to the floor.
‘You stupid bastard!’ Kinsella shouted at Shepherd.
Shepherd turned to Kinsella as if noticing him for the first time. His gun was pointing at the Irishman and his finger was still on the trigger.
‘Why did you wait so long?’ Kinsella hissed. ‘He could have killed me.’
‘Maybe I should have let him,’ said Shepherd, quietly. ‘He was worth ten of you.’
Kinsella sneered at Shepherd. ‘I don’t give a toss what you think.’ He went to the door.
‘If I were you, I’d go back to the States,’ said Shepherd.
Kinsella paused. ‘I’m going to Ireland,’ he said. ‘That’s where my future lies.’
Shepherd shook his head slowly. ‘Not any more it doesn’t,’ he said. ‘You’re an MI5 informer and pretty soon the whole world will know it. The IRA might have decommissioned its weapon stocks but that doesn’t mean there aren’t a hell of a lot of psychopaths out there who’ll be gunning for you as soon as the news gets out.’ He smiled cruelly. ‘And, trust me, the news will get out.’
‘You can’t do that,’ said Kinsella.
‘I can do what the hell I want,’ said Shepherd. ‘Now sod off or I’ll shoot you myself.’ He raised the gun and aimed it at Kinsella’s face.
Kinsella’s hand shook as he pulled open the door and hurried out of the room.
Shepherd ejected the magazine from the Glock, cleared the chamber, and handed the weapon to Button. ‘I wasn’t really going to shoot him,’ he said.
‘I wouldn’t have cared overmuch if you had, frankly,’ she said.
‘What now?’ said Shepherd, glancing at Maplethorpe’s body. ‘Do we call the police?’
‘I’ll handle it. No one’ll want to have to explain a renegade RUC officer.’
‘MI5?’
‘I’ll call Kinsella’s handler. She can get her people to clean up her mess.’
‘Who’s going to tell Elaine Carter?’
‘It’ll be taken care of, but not by you. You’re off the case as of now.’
Shepherd nodded. ‘Where are you going?’
‘I’ll make sure this is squared away, then I’m going to see Patsy Ellis. She’s got some explaining to do.’
Shepherd took a final look round his hotel room. The only things left there belonged to Elaine. Her clothes, her toiletries, her magazines. When he walked out, it would look as though he had never been there. He wouldn’t be
