The Cold, Cold Ground

would be best served looking into terrorist-related offences?”
    “Not now that the Chief Constable’s taken an interest. Not now that the Secretary of State has been on the blower. Not now that the Sunday World has got involved. This has become big. This has become an embarrassment. It needs to be nipped in the bud.”
    “In that case, sir, my team could help with—”
    “No!” Brennan exclaimed.
    “No, Sergeant Duffy. DCI Todd has his own team and resources and he doesn’t want you cluttering up his investigation. You are not to interview any of the witnesses or interfere with this investigation in any way. Is that understood?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Clearly Todd not only didn’t like me but had utter contempt for the work that I had done so far on this case.
    And who knew? Maybe he was right. Maybe I had cocked this whole thing up through lack of experience.
    Brennan and I stared at one another.
    “You’re not being reprimanded or anything. Don’t get that idea. This is just a simple reassignment. And in case you’re wondering, I did fight for you, Sean. But this thing has just become … The names in the Sunday World … It’s just another distraction. You’re right. We’re stretched very thin here. Very thin indeed. We need to close the book on this nut. And then focus on, you know, preventing a bloody civil war.”
    “Yes, sir. But I can still help, sir, I’ve got a lot of ideas.”
    He coughed and looked uneasy. “I’ll be blunt, Sean. Todd was furious at you last night. He wanted me to put you on report. I put him straight on that but he doesn’t want you poking your nose in. He wants you to forward all tips and evidence straight to his team at Special Branch.”
    I nodded. I had heard enough. I had heard enough and I was desperate to get out of here. “Of course … So what do you want me to do now, sir?”
    “You’re to type up your report on Tommy Little and Andrew Young, fax it off to Todd’s team at Special Branch and when that’s done … Well, when that’s done, you can go back to your work on the Ulster bank fraud. They’re all important. Every case.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “And you can stick Matty and Crabbie on those bike thefts from Paddington’s Warehouse.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “All right, go. Type that report. Don’t mope! And get your bloody hair cut!”
    “Yes, sir.”
    I left the office and took a deep a breath. I sat down at my desk.
    Crabbie and Matty were looking at me through the door.
    “Do you already know?” I asked them.
    Crabbie nodded.
    “It’s probably for the best,” Matty said. “I mean, who wants to be known as the detective who solved the Belfast Queer Murders? It’s not like catching the Yorkshire Ripper, is it?”
    “No, I suppose it isn’t … Listen, lads, I have this report to type up and you two are to get onto that bicycle theft case … ach, fuck it, who fancies a pint?”
    We retired next door to the Royal Oak, waited until the bar opened, got three pints of Guinness and sat near the fire.
    “Seawright was in Larne yesterday,” Matty said as he lit up a smoke.
    “Tell Todd. You’re to forward all tips or information to his team at Special Branch,” I said.
    “What about the evidence we gained illegally?” Crabbie asked.
    “What evidence?”
    “Breaking into Shane Davidson’s apartment.”
    “We didn’t gain any evidence, except about his really quite good musical tastes.”
    He had a point though. When I typed my report should I mention the fact that a man I’d had a homosexual dalliance with had implied that Shane also had the occasional homosexual dalliance? Did that mean that Shane was a homosexual? Were Sean and Bobby more than just good friends? Did any of thishave a bearing on the case?
    On reflection it probably did, but how to broach it?
    “I’ll tell them. I’ll say that I had ‘an opportunity to examine Shane Davidson’s flat and found nothing of interest’. If he asks me how I’ll tell him the stupid wee shite left his door open. Don’t worry, I’ll leave you out of it, Crabbie.”
    Crabbie looked hurt. “You don’t have to take the fall for me. I’m old enough and ugly enough to look after myself.”
    “Nobody’s taking the fall for anybody. Come, let’s drink up.”
    We swallowed our Guinnesses and went back to the station. I closed my office door and laid out the blue paint strips on my desk. My favourite colour is blue .
    Klein blue. Sapphire. Persian blue. Midnight blue. Columbia blue.