The Cold, Cold Ground

coincidence. It won’t happen again, sir.”
    “You know what you have, Duffy?”
    “What sir?”
    “A lean and hungry look, that’s what.”
    He glared at me, shook his head, opened a drawer, took out a packet of cigarettes.
    “Only child, aren’t you, Duffy?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “It’s been my experience that only children never learn when to keep their fucking traps shut. An older brother would have beat that out of you.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “How are you getting on with the Ulster Bank Fraud?”
    “Oh, we solved that easily enough. It was a guy over the water. He didn’t think we Micks would have had the wherewithal to check into the offshore deposits.”
    Brennan sniffed and took a draw on his ciggie. He did not seem particularly jubilant about our success. “What are you working on now?”
    “The bicycle thefts.”
    “Any leads?”
    “A couple, sir.”
    He nodded. “Do me a favour, Duffy?”
    “Yes?”
    “Stay the hell away from Freddie Scavanni and anybody else who has access to a scary team of barristers, or hit men, ok?”
    I nodded. He waved his hand at me. “Be fruitful and multiply.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    I was being dismissed but I didn’t move.
    “I was telling you to fuck off in a jocular manner, Duffy,” Brennan said.
    “I know that, sir. But I have a question.”
    “Quickly.”
    “Have DCI Todd’s team made any progress on the homosexual murders? I’m only asking because I’ve heard nothing. I was taken off the case after a week because I had made no progress and they’ve had it since Thursday and …”
    “You take things personally, Duffy, that’s your trouble. I suppose it’s some kind of Catholic thing. Now, please, get out of my office before I bloody kick you out.”
    “With respect, sir, they’ve made no progress because they may be looking in the wrong place. The list of names, the attacks. Why hasn’t there been an attack since last Thursday? Because he doesn’t need to do any more attacks. The scent trail has been sufficiently laid now. We’re off and running. I think there won’t be any more attacks because—”
    “Did you not hear me? Get out of my fucking office!”
    I skulked back to my desk. Again my cheeks were burning. I’d always been an A student. A good pupil. House Captain. Deputy Head Boy. I had never so much as been sent to the Principal. This was humiliating. Humiliating and I knew that every motherfucker in here was looking at me. Constable bloody Price was positively beaming: that’s taken the uppity fenian down a peg or two.
    At lunchtime I went to see Laura at the hospital but she was busy at her surgery.
    From the phone box on Barn Road I called my mum. I told her I was well.
    “When are you coming to see us? It’s been a month.”
    “Next weekend, I promise.”
    “Are you sure you’re well? You sound like you’ve got a bit of cold.”
    “Nah, nah, I’m fine. Tell Dad I was asking for him.”
    I turned up the collar on my coat and walked back out into the rain. A car pulled up next to me with a screech of brakes. Black E Type Jag. Tinted windows. I looked in my raincoat pocket formy service revolver but of course I’d left it at the station.
    Billy White opened the rear door and pointed a 9mm at me.
    “Let’s go for a ride, Duffy,” he said.
    “You’re not going to shoot me in broad daylight,” I said.
    “Won’t I?” he replied, grinning.
    I shook my head and took a step backwards. “You don’t kidnap peelers from the middle of the street.”
    “Don’t fucking test me. Get in the fucking car,” he said.
    His eyes were wide and they had a dangerous whiteness to them. I got in the back of the Jaguar. Billy leaned across me and closed the door.
    I noticed that Shane was the only person in the car. In the driver’s seat. Where was Billy’s crew? What was this?
    Shane’s face was badly bruised. His lip was split. That was the face. The pretty part. What did the rest look like?
    I began to panic now. No witnesses. No problems. He wasn’t crazy enough to top a copper in the middle of Carrick, was he? The Jaguar centrally locked.
    “Drive!” Billy said and Shane took us out onto the Marine Highway.
    “What is this?” I said trying to keep my voice level.
    “This is just a couple of friends having a chat,” Billy said. “A little bird tells me that you’ve been kicked off the Tommy Little investigation.”
    I said nothing.
    “You’ve been kicked off the investigation yet you’ve been slandering young