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  ‘Nor for me,’ Lucy retorted. ‘Nor for the girl, Janet. She was tarred and feathered the day after we left Derry.’

  Her mother groaned softly. ‘You shouldn’t have brought this back up, Lucy. The past is past.’

  ‘No, it’s not,’ Lucy said. ‘It’s still infecting the present. Janet says Kevin Mullan was the one who tarred her. Because she was a grass. She told Dad that Mullan bombed the Strand Inn.’

  ‘McLaughlin’s bar?’

  Lucy nodded. ‘According to her, it was an insurance scam on the building. Dad passed the information on, but it was never investigated. Now, twenty years on, Mullan and Kent are involved in kidnapping McLaughlin’s daughter. The Semtex found in Kent’s shed was from the same batch used to blow up the bar.’

  ‘That was a terrorist attack, Lucy. I remember it happening.’

  ‘It was a listed building. McLaughlin bought it for next to nothing because the land couldn’t be developed. The bomb cleared the field for him. Once the wrangling was over in the courts, the land was worth a fortune. He had offers near forty-five million for it. Then, just when he could sell it, the recession hit and the arse fell out of the market. The land’s not worth more than he bought it for.’

  Her mother had stopped arguing with her now, was considering all she said.

  ‘The people who planted the bomb were lifted doing something else. When they get out they take McLaughlin’s child and don’t demand a ransom? Yet he was trying to source ten million the day before he made the reward offer.’

  ‘How do you know this?’ Her tone had changed, had assumed the coldness more associated with the ACC.

  ‘I spoke with the wife of his accountant. He was trying to shift the land on the quiet and couldn’t do it. He leaked news of a fake deal for £25 million to try to push up the price. Instead it attracted his old partners, looking for their cut.’

  ‘So McLaughlin had a deal with the bombers? He’d pay them a cut of the profit on the land if they took care of the restrictions on the listed building.’

  Lucy nodded. ‘But by the time they got out, the land wasn’t worth what they had been promised. Then they heard he was on the verge of this great deal. They still wanted what they were owed.’

  ‘Kate McLaughlin told us that one of the kidnappers said that’s what they wanted – “what they were owed”.’

  ‘What else did she have to say?’

  Her mother shook her head. ‘She was held in Kent’s house, bound and blindfolded. They kept her in the dark. She heard the girl arriving in the house, said she overheard a row between Kent and a woman over his daughter. The others weren’t there at that stage. She guessed that they didn’t know that the girl was in the house. Maybe Kent was afraid they might hurt her. The child, Alice, found Kate in the basement. She had been playing outside and came down through the coal doors to explore. Kate convinced her to cut her ties. She took her into the woods. The snow came, she hid out in the shed you found till it passed.’

  ‘But Mullan found her first.’

  She nodded.

  ‘Did she know that Kent was killed?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did she see any of the kidnappers?’

  Her mother drained her glass of wine and refilled it. She topped up Lucy’s to finish the bottle.

  ‘No. She heard voices. Four male voices.’

  ‘But we’ve only got three kidnappers. Quinn, Mullan and Kent.’

  ‘She was adamant that she heard four.’

  ‘Dad wrote in his notebook that he passed on Janet’s tip-off about Mullan to Bill Travers.’

  She noticed the tightening around her mother’s lips.

  ‘He was the one who told you about Janet too, wasn’t he?’

  Her mother nodded.

  ‘Dad names Mullan to Travers and our house is attacked and Janet is the victim of a punishment squad. And the day I mentioned to Travers my suspicions about McLaughlin’s involvement, a threat was daubed on the gable wall of the house.’

  ‘You need to be careful what you’re suggesting, Lucy.’

  ‘Travers led the Strand Inn investigation. Now he’s leading the investigation of the kidnapping. It would be a handy way for the gang to be sure they’d never be caught. An inside man.’

  Her mother nodded slowly, as she followed the circumference of the ring of wine left by the bottom of her glass on the table with her index finger. Finally she stood, took her glass to the sink, rinsed it and placed the glass upside down on the draining board.

  ‘What do you want me to do, Lucy? Arrest Travers and McLaughlin?’

  Lucy twisted in her chair to watch her mother. She could see already that the woman was considering the angles, looking for a way to minimize the damage. She was an ACC. It was her station, her district. It would be her mess.

  ‘If they did these things.’

  ‘That’s a big “if”, Lucy,’ she said, suddenly speaking in an even, reasoning tone Lucy recognized from so many arguments with the woman. ‘You know how it feels to find out something about your father that you didn’t need to know. Will Kate McLaughlin thank you for taking her father from her? Her mother’s dead. Do you think that would be a good way for this to end?’

  ‘He has to pay for what he’s done.’

  ‘Jesus, Lucy, you don’t think he’s paid already? You don’t think all that has happened this past few weeks isn’t enough? His wife is gone, his daughter was abducted. By your own admission, his property is worthless to him. If we arrest him, that child may as well be an orphan.’

  ‘She deserves to know the truth.’

  Her mother sat down opposite her again. ‘But now? You didn’t need to know the truth when you were a child. No one would benefit from it.’

  ‘And Travers? What if he is the fourth gang member? What if he thinks Alice saw him at the house? She’ll talk eventually. He’s not secure while she’s alive. And she’ll not be safe so long as he is free.’

  Her mother lifted her glass without asking her if she had finished.

  ‘Go to the girl in the morning. Take photographs. If she identifies Travers, I’ll deal with it. Until that, everything else is circumstantial, Lucy. You have nothing concrete on him.’

  She stood again. ‘I’m going to bed. There’s a spare room at the back, or you can sleep on the couch. I’ll leave out blankets and night clothes for you. My partner’s name is Mark, in case he’s still here for breakfast when you wake.’

  Lucy watched her pad across the kitchen towards the door. She stopped at the door and turned to face her.

  ‘You know your father hitting you was the disease acting, don’t you? It wasn’t him. He wouldn’t hurt you, Lucy. I hated him for what he did to that girl, but I knew he loved you too much to ever hurt you.’

  Lucy stared at her but said nothing.

  ‘What are you going to do about him?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Lucy replied.

  CHAPTER 46

  Lucy had just lain down on the sofa and drawn the blanket around her when her phone rang.

  ‘Hello.’

  ‘Where are you, Lucy?’ It was Travers. His voice was quiet, soothing.

  ‘Ah, I’m home, sir. In my bed.’

  ‘No you’re not.’

  Lucy felt her skin go to goosebumps. She shivered as she rubbed them on her arm.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘There’s just me and your father here at the moment,’ Travers continued.

  Lucy felt her innards lurch. Her instinct was to run up to her mother, but she could not face the strange man in her mother’s bed.

  ‘Is everything all right, sir?’ Lucy said. ‘Is there something wrong at my home?’

  ‘Not at all,’ he said. ‘I called to see these notebooks your father kept, to see if I can work out who he gave the name of Mullan to all those years ago.’

  ‘My father’s not well, sir,’ Lucy said, standing now and lifting her jacket.

  ‘I’ve noticed that. In fact, I think he may have gone out looki
ng for you in the woods, but I’m not sure.’

  Lucy clicked off the phone and ran out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

  It took twenty minutes to make it to her house. When she got there, the front door lay open. She parked haphazardly in front of the drive and ran into the house, shouting for her father as she did. The place was in darkness, her shouts gaining only echoing silence in response.

  She checked each room quickly but there was no sign of either her father or Travers. She ran to the locked unit beneath the sink for her father’s gun as her own had been taken from her pending the results of the shooting investigation. She had kept the key after locking the gun away the night he had fallen in the snow. Despite this, however, the door to the cabinet lay open, the gun missing; her father must have had more than one key. The box of ammunition spilled bullets onto the floor of the cabinet.

  She ran out to the hallway. Suddenly, a figure stumbled through the doorway, lumbering towards her, causing her to tense, ready to fight. It was Dermot, the neighbour.

  ‘Jesus, you gave me a fright,’ Lucy said.

  ‘I saw you arrive,’ he explained. ‘Your father headed up the street a few minutes ago. His visitor followed after him. They’ve not come back.’

  Lucy nodded. ‘Where did they go?’

  Dermot pointed to the far end of the street where the darkened edge of the woods ran adjacent to the street.

  ‘I think they went in the woods,’ he said. ‘Do you need a hand? I’ll get a torch.’

  He ran back towards his house while Lucy jogged on to the end of the road. She reached the edge of the woods and scanned as far in as she could. The snow had mostly melted now, which, in fact, made the woods all the more dark. The air was chilled and sharp.

  She pushed through the gate at the entrance and stepped into the woods proper. She took a moment to stand, her eyes closed, allowing herself to acclimatize to the darkness here, beneath the ancient oaks.

  Finally, taking a deep, slow breath, she opened her eyes and began moving through the trees. Using the illumination of her mobile phone display as a torch, she picked her way along, glanced constantly from left to right, always alert for a flash of her father’s white shirt against the black trunks.

  Above her, something moved in the branches, causing her to start. Branches thrashed and rattled, then she heard something take to the sky.

  As she walked, she kept her head down, watching the ground for roots or branches lying in the way. The wood was alive with movement now, creatures skittering across the dead leaves of the woodland floor, always just beyond the weakening ring of light thrown out by her phone.

  After some time she realized she was nearing the upper lip of the quarry. She angled the phone to gauge how close to the edge she was. Just at that moment, the woods were plunged into darkness as her battery died.

  Suddenly she heard a crack from behind her and a heavy movement. Before she could turn, a hand gripped her shoulder, causing her to flinch.

  ‘Hello, Lucy,’ Travers said.

  ‘Sir,’ she replied, failing to control the stammering of her voice as she turned to face him. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Looking for your father,’ he replied. He was dressed in black, one hand in his pocket where, she assumed, he had his gun.

  ‘Some of the neighbours are coming behind me, sir,’ she said.

  ‘We’d best be quick then.’ As he stepped closer to her, Lucy recalled that the upper edge of the quarry lay only a few feet behind her and she had to resist the urge to step back from him.

  ‘So, who is this tout your father got his information from?’

  ‘I’m not sure of her name, sir.’

  ‘It was that schoolgirl, wasn’t it?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Lucy repeated.

  ‘Who else have you mentioned it to?’

  ‘My mother,’ she said quickly. ‘That’s where I was when you phoned.’

  He nodded, as if this confirmed what he had suspected all along.

  ‘Good. Your mother will not want this coming out,’ Travers said. ‘She’ll not want to admit that her husband abused a schoolgirl and she did nothing about it. Christ, she left you with him and you were only a schoolgirl yourself.’ He shook his head. ‘That doesn’t say much for what she thought of you, does it, Lucy?’

  ‘No, sir,’ Lucy agreed, if only to keep him talking. He moved towards her, forcing her to step back nearer to the edge of the quarry.

  He reached out his free hand and touched her cheek. ‘But you’ll not keep quiet, will you?’

  Lucy glanced to her side, desperately trying to see how near she was to the edge.

  ‘I could, sir.’

  ‘You’d have done very well in CID, Lucy,’ Travers said. ‘Such a promising officer.’

  Lucy could not speak. Travers moved a step closer, causing her to inch nearer the quarry edge.

  ‘You can’t just kill me, sir,’ Lucy said, desperately looking out for any sign of her neighbour following behind.

  ‘It was very brave of you to come into the woods in the dark after your father. But accidents happen. Maybe you lost your footing in the dark, stepped too close to the quarry edge.’

  ‘No one will believe you.’

  Travers laughed, edged closer. ‘Everyone will believe me, Lucy. That’s the point.’

  ‘Janet!’

  Lucy looked up to her right, quickly, to see the spectral figure of her father moving through the trees.

  ‘Run, Dad. Get help!’ she shouted.

  Instead, at the sound of her voice, her father moved closer to them. Lucy realized that he was holding his gun in his hand. Travers must have noticed at the same instant for he shifted suddenly, lurching at him, grabbing his shirt and pulling him backwards. He reached for the gun, clawing at her father’s arm, pulling him onto the woodland floor while the old man fought back.

  In the struggle, the gun spun from her father’s grip and landed in the undergrowth. Lucy scrabbled across to where it landed, feeling through the lowlying bushes with her hands until she felt the cold solidity of the metal.

  She straightened up and pointed the gun. Travers stood above where her father still lay, using him to shield the lower half of his body. He struggled in vain to pull the old man to his feet to protect himself more fully.

  ‘Leave him, sir.’

  ‘Lucy?’ Travers stopped suddenly and raised his hands. ‘I’m unarmed. What are you going to do? Shoot me?’

  ‘I know you.’ The old man was squinting up at Travers, desperate to place him. ‘I know your voice.’

  ‘Help is coming,’ Lucy said. ‘You’re under arrest.’

  Travers laughed hollowly. ‘What for?’

  ‘The murder of Peter Kent. The kidnapping of Kate McLaughlin.’

  ‘Prove it.’

  ‘Alice saw the killing. She must have been upstairs in bed. Why did you kill him?’

  Travers moved a step closer to Lucy, prompting her to raise the gun further, warning him to stay back.

  ‘We thought he’d done a deal with McLaughlin himself. The girl was gone and he wouldn’t say where.’

  ‘He died to protect his child. You killed him for that.’

  Travers laughed. ‘You make it sound so chivalrous. Kent was an animal. So was Quinn. You took care of him though, didn’t you?’

  ‘Were you involved with them all along? Right back to 1994. Janet told Dad about Mullan bombing the docks and he told you. Were you part of the gang from the start or did McLaughlin pay you off to say nothing after the bombing went wrong?’

  Travers began to edge towards her again.

  ‘Don’t,’ she hissed. ‘Step back.’

  ‘I know you,’ her father said, his voice firmer now. ‘I know you.’

  ‘Did you set Mullan on Janet? And the attack on our home? Did you do that?’

  ‘So many questions, Lucy.’

  Her father struggled to stand without success. ‘I remember you,’ he said, looking up at Trave
rs.

  Travers glanced at him. ‘He was shagging a schoolgirl,’ he said. ‘She was not much older than you. Does that not make you think?’

  ‘Shut up,’ Lucy said. ‘You didn’t want me in CID. You knew I had a case in the woods bordering Kent’s house and you wanted to keep an eye on what I found out.’

  ‘A fourteen-year-old girl,’ he added, moving towards her again.

  ‘Don’t,’ Lucy said. ‘You thought you could control me.’

  Travers shook his head. ‘Is that why you still live with him now?’

  ‘Don’t,’ Lucy hissed, struggling to stay in control.

  ‘Keeping it in the family? That explains so much,’ Travers added, stepping deliberately towards her.

  ‘I will shoot,’ Lucy said, keeping her aim steady.

  ‘No, you won’t.’ Travers lunged for her, his hand grabbing for the gun, gripping the barrel.

  Lucy fired once, low, the echo of the shot reverberating down off the rock face of the quarry below them.

  Travers immediately stopped short, his expression drawn in surprise. He looked down at where his hand prodded his stomach, moaned as he pulled his hand away from the wound slick with blood.

  ‘You bitch,’ he spat, lunging for her again.

  Her father had stood up by now and suddenly moved forwards, grappled with Travers, taking him by his coat.

  ‘I remember you,’ he said.

  He swung Travers sideways towards the quarry edge, causing him to stumble. Travers struggled to keep his footing at the quarry edge, flailing his arms to retain balance. He seemed to remain suspended in air for a second, then shifted suddenly to the left and disappeared from view.

  Lucy grabbed her father before the momentum of his movement pulled him over the edge too. They fell to the ground. She lay there, clinging to him, as in the distance she saw the bobbing of torchlight through the trees, heard her neighbour’s voice calling her name.