78

‘Where are they?’ Fegan asked, his face inches from the cop’s.

Lennon struggled beneath him, his shoulders twisting as Fegan fought for balance.

‘I don’t know,’ the cop said.

Fegan tightened his grip on Lennon’s throat, tried to find the windpipe with his fingers. ‘You should’ve kept them safe.’

The cop reached up, going for Fegan’s eyes. Fegan pulled back, twisting his face away. His balance left him, and he lost his grip on Lennon’s throat. Another push and his back hit the pavement, a heavy body on his, a Glock against his cheek.

‘Gerry Fegan,’ the cop said.

‘Why did you leave them?’ Fegan asked.

‘I had to,’ Lennon said, panting. ‘No one knew where they were.’

‘But he found them.’

The Glock pressed harder on Fegan’s cheek. ‘I fucking know he did,’ Lennon said. ‘They were sold out. I was sold out. Now get away from here or I’ll blow your head off.’

‘No,’ Fegan said. He pushed up with his elbows, ignoring the pressure of the pistol’s muzzle against his cheekbone. ‘Not until I know where they are.’

‘Why?’ Lennon pushed him back down. ‘You caused all this. They’d be safe if it wasn’t for you. You started this whole thing, you crazy bastard.’

‘I know,’ Fegan said, strength draining from his body into the cold ground. He closed his eyes. ‘I know.’

The muzzle lifted from his cheek, and the other man’s weight left his chest. He opened his eyes. The cop stood over him, the Glock still aimed at his forehead.

‘How did you find me?’ Lennon asked.

‘I talked to the man who has them,’ Fegan said. ‘On Marie’s phone. He said he was in Carrickfergus. I drove around till I saw a cop car. I knew that was it. Then I followed you.’

Lennon stood back and waved the pistol at the empty street. ‘Get out of here. Go on, disappear, or I’ll turn you in.’

Fegan sat up. ‘I can’t. Not till they’re safe.’

‘They’ll never be safe while you’re around,’ Lennon said. ‘Can’t you see that? Christ, there’s no time for this.’

The cop stepped over Fegan’s legs and headed for the Audi.

‘Where are they?’ Fegan got to his feet. ‘What did you find out in there?’

‘Nothing that concerns you,’ Lennon said as he opened the Audi’s door. ‘Just go and don’t come back.’

‘Tell me,’ Fegan said, fighting the anger that swelled in his chest.

Lennon raised the pistol again. His hand shook. ‘Get out of here or so help me I’ll shoot you dead.’

Fegan went for the pub’s door.

‘Don’t,’ Lennon called after him.

Fegan turned to face him. ‘Then tell me.’

‘He doesn’t know where they went,’ Lennon said, his shoulders sagging. ‘But he told me someone who might. The one who sold them out.’

‘Who is it?’

‘An old friend,’ Lennon said. A cop.’

Fegan stepped closer. ‘Take me to him.’

‘No,’ Lennon said. ‘Christ, no. Are you crazy? What am I talking about, of course you’re crazy.’

The cop holstered his weapon and lowered himself into the car. Fegan ran to it and grabbed the door before Lennon could pull it closed.

Lennon glowered up at him from the driver’s seat. ‘Let go.’

‘Will he tell you where they are?’ Fegan asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Lennon said. ‘Maybe. Maybe not. Let go of the door.’

Fegan leaned into the car, smelled the cop’s sweat and fear. ‘Take me to him.’ ‘Why?’

‘Because he’ll tell me.’

‘If he won’t tell me, why in God’s name would he tell you?’ Fegan said, ‘Because I’ll ask harder.’