Paddy sat on a stool just inside the garage, the main door open, smoked a cigarette between his finger and thumb, and waited, watched by two hard young men named Dempsey and Farrel from behind a half-drawn window curtain.

'Where the fug are they?' Farrel said, and the silver BMW came down the hill and halted on the forecourt. Paddy stood up and Dillon got out, followed by Holley who had been driving.

'Which one is Dillon, I wonder?' Farrel said.

'Neither of them looks like much to me,' Dempsey nodded. 'Let's see what happens.' 'It's me, Paddy, Sean.' Dillon smiled and grasped a reluctant hand. 'I was twelve years old when I last saw you, so how could you remember me?'

O'Rourke tried to smile. 'It's grand to see you and looking so well.'

'This is my good friend, Daniel Holley. He might sound English, but his mother was from Crossmaglen and that's not too far from here.'

'And that's a fact,' O'Rourke said, but before he could say anything else, the Shogun came down the hill, swung in and parked beside the BMW.

'Christ Jesus,' Dempsey said. 'It's the lady from Talbot Place. What's she doing here?'

'I'd better get Curry on my mobile,' Farrel said, and did so straightaway.

'What are they doing?' Curry demanded.

'She hasn't got out of her car yet.'

'Just keep watching and I'll call you back.' Curry rang off, then called Jack Kelly, who answered at once. 'I've got a problem,' Curry said, and told him.

'What the hell is she playing at?' Kelly demanded. 'Never mind. I'll be straight over.'

Curry called Farrel. 'Stay with it, but let me know the moment they start moving anywhere.' He switched off his mobile and turned to the seven or eight people in the bar. 'Drink up and move on. I want you out of here in five minutes.' The three men turned to look at Jean and she opened the glove compartment and took out a short-barrelled Smith amp; Wesson.38 revolver, one of a number of weapons Colonel Henry had kept around the house. She slipped it in her trenchcoat pocket and got out of the Shogun.

'Sorry if I'm intruding,' she said. 'Remember me, Paddy, from Kilmartin? Jean Talbot, Colonel Henry's daughter?' He looked slightly dazed and she took his hand. 'I was so sorry to hear about what happened to Mickeen.'

'That's kind of you.' He seemed to come to life. 'This is Sean Dillon, Mickeen's nephew, over from London on hearing the bad news.'

She turned and didn't offer her hand, simply stood there with hands in her pockets, looking him over. 'Sean Dillon.' She frowned slightly, 'A familiar name. I'm sure I've heard it before.'

'And my friend, Daniel Holley.'

She smiled at Holley. 'So how is Mickeen?'

'What can I say?' Dillon shrugged slightly. 'He's had a massive operation which has left him with a titanium plate in the head, and he's comatose. He's been flown to London by air ambulance.'

'So what happens here?'

'The garage, you mean? That's quite simple. I'm offering Paddy a full partnership to keep things going while we see how Mickeen makes out.'

Suddenly, O'Rourke was smiling. 'By God, that's a fine offer, Sean, and I'll take it.' He spat on the palm of his hand, held it out and Dillon shook it.

Jean said, 'May I suggest we adjourn to the Green Man and seal the bargain with a drink?'

Paddy's face fell. 'Well, now, there could be complications about that.'

'What complications? Don't be silly, Paddy.' She took Dillon's arm. 'Shall we go?'

'It's entirely our pleasure, Mrs Talbot.' They walked away, Holley and Paddy following.

Farrel called Curry at once. 'They're on their way to the pub, Mr Curry.'

'Then move your arses and get down here fast. Use the back lane.'

Curry was coldly angry. He reached under the bar and produced a sawn-off shotgun, which he loaded and then replaced under the bar. There was no solution there. The woman was a wild card in this game. She was untouchable.

The door opened and she led the way in, just in front of Dillon, Holley and O'Rourke behind.

'Mr Curry, how nice to see you, it's been a while. You may know Mr Dillon here.'

'He certainly does, we're of an age,' Dillon said. 'We were at the village school together. How goes it, Martin?' His smile was mocking.

Curry was struggling to keep control, but before he could make any kind of reply, the back door crashed open and Dempsey and Farrel entered.

'What's happening?' Farrel demanded.

'We're all having a drink to celebrate Paddy being made partner at the garage,' Jean said. 'Why don't you join us?'

'I'm damned if I'll drink with these shites or you, you Protestant whore,' he said, producing a pistol.

Dillon kicked him under the right kneecap and, as he doubled over, raised his knee into the descending face and sent him back to trip over a chair and bounce off the wall, blood oozing from a broken nose as he slid to the floor, dropping his pistol. Curry reached under the bar, producing the sawn-off shotgun. Holley picked up the glass jug of water on the bar, threw it in his face and yanked the shotgun from him by the barrel. He tossed it into the corner, kicking Dempsey in the face as he leaned down to pick up Farrel's pistol.

Jean Talbot took the Smith amp; Wesson from her pocket and fired a shot into the ceiling. 'Now can everybody calm down?'

The door opened and Jack Kelly stepped in. He surveyed the scene, Dempsey and Farrel crouched on the floor by the wall, Curry drying his face with a bar towel. O'Rourke looked terrified.

Kelly said to Dillon, 'Have you given Paddy the job?'

'I don't know who you are, but, yes, he's now a partner.'

'Excellent. I'm Jack Kelly, estate manager at Talbot Place.'

'Ah, I mind that name from days when you were doing something else,' Dillon said. 'Do you know my friend Daniel Holley?'

'We have mutual friends in Crossmaglen. If you're finished here, Jean, I'll see you home.'

'That's kind of you.' She turned to Dillon and Holley, 'Shall we go?'

'Certainly,' Dillon turned to Curry. 'It's been a sincere sensation, Martin.' He ducked as Curry threw a glass at him.

Outside, Jean was getting into Kelly's Morris. 'He's just running me up to my car. Nice meeting you, gentlemen. It's good to be able to put a face to the name.'

They walked back up the street. 'I feel bad about leaving Paddy in there,' Dillon said.

'He'll be all right,' Holley grinned. 'They've got to get their petrol from somewhere.'

'Yes, he'll survive, but what a bloody place. Thank God my father got me out of it at twelve. Let's get going.' As Holley drove, Dillon called Roper. 'What's the situation with Ferguson?'

'He's not stirring yet, so I'm leaving well enough alone. Have you been having fun?'

Dillon told him what had happened, because Roper had a talent approaching genius for making sense out of everything.

'What do you think?'

'Jean Talbot? Quite a lady. I liked the bit with the gun. She probably went along to the garage because she wanted to meet you – but I suspect she was also stirring things up. The Catholic and Protestant thing is what she was raised on all her life. She knew you'd have trouble at the Green Man.'

'That's true. Maybe she just likes to live dangerously. Anyway, what's the deal on Mickeen at Rosedene?'

'He's arrived and Charles Bellamy has everything in hand. He and Jordan fell into each other's arms and are enjoying lunch together at Rosedene as we speak.'

'So everybody's happy?'

'Until Ferguson surfaces. God help us all then. I've booked your flight plan for three hours from now at Belfast City. Over and out.'

Dillon leaned back. 'Three hours to lift off. Say farewell to beautiful Ulster.'

'If you're worried about Ferguson, I really meant it when I said I'd pay for the air ambulance,' Holley told him.

'After an initial roaring when he hears of it, Ferguson will calm down. The department will pay. It's a matter of honour.'


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