“I left it, Commandant Gallagher, for reasons that are known to yersel’ as well as they are to me.” His voice became passionate and shrill. “I left it because the only one I cared for in this world, outside me old woman, that’s me sister, came to her doom through it. But it’s not for me to judge. It’s not for me …”
“Very well,” interrupted Gallagher. “You left the Organization owing to a personal grievance. Was that grievance against any particular member of the Organization?”
“I bear no fellow-man a grudge,” cried Mulligan solemnly.
“You had no grievance against Francis Joseph McPhillip?”
“Lord have mercy on his soul,” cried Mulligan, crossing himself with his eyes on the ceiling. “I hope his sorrows are over him.” He turned to Miss McPhillip. “I swear on me immortal soul, Miss McPhillip, that I bore no grudge agin yer brother.”
“All right,” said Gallagher. “Well. Tell us what you did after leaving Barney Kerrigan.”
“I went back to the house after that. I did another bit o’ work until about eight o’clock. I didn’t do much because fellahs kept comin’ in an’ out an’ me eyes are not as good as they used to be an’ the gas now is a disgrace to the city. But anyhow, I finished the waistcoat. Then I went upstairs to Jim Daly’s room on the third floor. Poor man, he’s sick this three years with bad kidneys. Only for a pension he has outa the British Navy, there’s no knowin’ what ud happen to him, an’ he havin’ no one to look after him but himself, an’ he that delicate. We had a smoke an’ a talk until about ten o’clock. Then I came down again. The old woman had just come in, so we had another cup o’ tay an’ a herring. Then I sat be the fire readin’ a newspaper until about half-past eleven. Then I began to pouch about makin’ ready to go to bed, when three men under Tommy Connor came in an’ put a mask over me face an’ bundled me into a car, without by yer leave, as if I was a criminal. That’s all.”
There was a slight pause. Everybody sighed for some reason.
“Very good, Mulligan,” said Gallagher. “That will do.”
He got up and went over to the judges’ table. The four of them talked for about two minutes. The centre judge read from a paper in a mumbling voice. Another judge took notes, scratching loudly with his pen. There was a pause. Then another discussion in whispers began. Then Gallagher came back to his seat.
“Nolan,” he said, quite suddenly, “repeat the statement concerning Peter Mulligan that you made to me in Ryan’s public-house in Titt Street at ten-forty-five this night.”
“Yes, Commandant,” said Gypo immediately.
He cleared his throat aggressively and rattled off the story about his having seen Mulligan track Francis Joseph McPhillip out of the Dunboy Lodging House. He spoke in a clear, loud and distinct voice, making arrogant gestures and looking straight into Gallagher’s eyes as he spoke.
Mulligan kept trembling while Gypo spoke. He seemed all the time trying to interrupt, but although his lips twitched and his hands trembled he neither moved nor spoke.
Gypo finished speaking. His loud, strong voice died out, leaving a sudden silence behind it. There was another slight pause.
“What time exactly did you see Mulligan leave the lodging-house?” said Gallagher.
“Just half-past six,” replied Gypo immediately. “I know because I looked at the clock in the hall.”
“Very well,” said Gallagher. “That will do you, Nolan. Miss McPhillip, what time did your brother arrive at your father’s house?”
“He arrived at ten minutes to seven,” said Mary, after a little pause, during which she blushed slightly, glanced at Gallagher and then looked at the ground. “It might be a little earlier than that, but not more than a minute or so. I had just come in from business.”
“Did he say anything about being followed when he came?”
“No. On the contrary, he said that he was certain that he was not noticed since he came into town at half-past five. Mother was very worried about his being in town, and she wanted to get him away immediately, but he was so confident about being safe that she thought it was all right his staying for the night. He said he met Nolan at the lodging-house. That was the only person he spoke to, he said. He came by back streets after leaving the lodging-house. He never stopped anywhere and he spoke to nobody. He crossed the river at the Metal Bridge. It was pitch-black at that time on account of the rain and the fog. Anybody that knew Frankie’s way of going along, listening to every sound, with ears as sharp as a fox, could hardly believe that he was followed without his knowing it. He came in suddenly by the back entrance through the yard. We thought it was his ghost,” she said with a little shiver of remembrance. She stopped and put her handkerchief to her face.
“Thank you, Miss McPhillip,” said Gallagher. “Barney Kerrigan out there?”
“Kerrigan there?”
“Kerrigan?”
“Yes. I’m coming,” came a voice from along the passage somewhere.
A tall man, wearing a black slouch hat and a new, though shabby, grey overcoat with a velvet collar, came into the room. He had a revolver strapped over his overcoat at the waist. He saluted and stood to attention.
“Did you meet Peter Mulligan at six-thirty this evening?” said Gallagher.
“Yes, Commandant,” replied Kerrigan. “I saw him just about that time comin’ down the street. He stopped me to know did I know anythin’ for the Grand National.”
“Very well. You are quite sure about the time?”
“Well, I couldn’t give ye the exact second, but it couldn’t be more than a minute one way or the other. I knocked off work at six an’ it takes me always just about twenty minutes to walk from the quays as far as Farelly’s. Well, I had a pint in Farelly’s an’ I stopped for a few minutes to talk to
