this place ten years ago, her uncle and Martin, and she ran a hand over her face. Was it then or now? And then she saw a glimmer of light at the door of the barn.
MARY POWER AND Benny sat at the tackle table. Benny was polishing an old pony saddle, Mary watching him. The door creaked open, a small wind lifted straw in the hay bales. Mary looked up and found Kathleen standing there.
“So you’ve come back, Kathleen Ryan?”
“I had to,” Kathleen told her. “It was meant to be from the beginning. Is the truck still here?”
“Oh, yes, it’s always been here. Your uncle Michael changed his mind. Told Benny not to dump the spare truck on the coast road after all. He came here after the robbery and exchanged them.”
“I know about that, he told me. He was afraid the crew of
“Benny show,” he cried, got up, and moved to the back of the barn.
He tossed bales of hay to one side as if they were nothing, then pulled on the false wall, swinging it back. Kathleen went forward, turned the locking bar, and opened the doors and there was the bullion in its boxes.
Charles Ferguson said, “Miss Ryan, I believe?”
She turned and found Ferguson, Hannah Bernstein, and Dillon standing there. She stared at them blankly and then something stirred.
“Martin, is that you?”
“As ever was, Kate.”
“I’ve come for it, Martin, come for the gold like Uncle Michael wanted. We’ll beat the IRA at their own game.”
“It’s over, Kate,” he said. “We’re into peace now. We’ve got to give it a chance.”
“Peace?” She frowned as if having difficulty at taking the idea in at all and then her eyes blazed. “Peace with the Taigs?” She was like an avenging angel and her hand came out of her raincoat pocket holding the Browning. “You saved me, Martin, in the alley with those three bastards, remember?”
“Of course I do.”
“But you weren’t there the other time when I was fifteen and there were four of them.” It was as if she was choking. “Dirty, rotten Taig bastards. To hell with them for what they did to me. And Uncle Michael, he hunted them down personally. He killed each one himself.” The gun shook in her hand. “We have to stand and fight. We have to face the Catholic scum.”
And only at that moment did Dillon realize how truly mad she had become, but before he could speak it was Benny who interfered. He staggered forward, looking distressed, arms waving.
“No, Kathleen, guns bad. Mustn’t point guns.”
His hands fastened on her shoulders and she screamed, “Get away, Benny,” and her finger fastened convulsively on the trigger of the Browning and she shot him.
Benny cried out and fell back and Mary Power screamed, “No!” picked up the shotgun from the tackle table, thumbed back the hammers, and fired both barrels. Kathleen was lifted backwards off her feet into the hay bales, the Browning flying from her hand. Dillon ran to her and dropped to one knee.
She grabbed for his hand. “Martin, is that you?” Her body jerked once, then went very still.
Hannah crouched beside him as Dillon stayed there holding a hand. “She’s gone, Sean.”
“Yes, I can see that.”
Benny, incredibly, got to his feet and stood, a hand to his side, blood oozing between his fingers. He looked shocked and dazed. Hannah examined him quickly and turned.
“Straight through his side. There’s an exit wound. He’ll live.”
Ferguson gently took the shotgun from Mary Power. “Oh, God, what have I done?” she asked.
“Not your fault, my dear,” Ferguson told her. “You’ve nothing to worry about. I’ll see to it personally.” He turned to Hannah. “Chief Inspector, I’d be obliged if you’d take her inside. And Benny. Do what you can.”
Hannah went and put an arm round her and led her out, holding her free hand to Benny to guide him. Dillon stood looking down at Kathleen Ryan. “You poor silly little bitch, I always knew there was something more.”
Ferguson said, “I gave the Sea King an hour. He’ll be back soon. Are you all right?”
“Of course I am, Brigadier.” Dillon found a cigarette and lit it. “End of a perfect day, wouldn’t you say?” and he turned and walked out.
