Maggie put her tray on the table and poured tea for everyone and distributed biscuits, smiling and cheerful, and made Ferguson, Roper, and Miller all laugh, too. Monica thought how strange it was that these men she had come to know so well, including the brother she had never really known properly until now, these men who were so civilized and jolly, were all in the death business, had all killed people.
She felt slightly unreal for a moment, and Roper, with that ravaged face, glanced at her and stopped smiling. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, fine. I’ll have a drink, if you don’t mind. Long journey, and I’m tired.”
She moved to the drinks cabinet, found a shot glass, opened a bottle of whiskey, filled the glass, and swallowed. It went straight to her head, releasing some lightness in her, and, as she turned, Dillon entered, along with Billy.
He had a paleness to him, the eyes dark, a look that she had never seen before. This man she had got to know well enough to love was suddenly a stranger, and she knew something must have happened.
He came and put a hand around her waist and kissed her lightly on the mouth. “It’s good to see you, girl. I’d like to kill that bastard in the truck for what he did to you.”
She ran her hand up and down his arm a couple of times. “It could have been worse, he could have succeeded. George is knocked about a bit, but he’ll get over it.” She looked at him searchingly. “You’re angry, I think?”
“You could put it that way.”
“Then tell us about it,” Ferguson said.
“Billy and I went hunting, first of all in Camden in search of Cochran. Turns out that address has been a brickfield since last year, waiting for a housing project. A helpful Indian storekeeper in the next street told me he remembered the address well because there used to be a lodging house there.”
“I already checked on the computer,” said Roper. “It only threw up two Matthew Cochrans, one a chemist at the School of Oriental Medicine and the other a headmaster at a high school in Bayswater.”
“So another false name,” Ferguson said. “What else is new. What about Kilburn? Did you discover anything useful?”
“I think you could say that.”
“For God’s sake, Dillon,” Billy exploded. “Get it off your chest.” He turned to the others. “That priest you found, Roper, near Pool’s address . . .”
Roper nodded. “Monsignor James Murphy.”
“Dillon knew him. When he was nineteen and his dad was killed in Belfast, it was Murphy the police asked to break the news to him, which he did right there in Holy Name church, and he gave him one of the prayer cards.”
There was a kind of stillness, and Monica took a step closer and reached for Dillon’s hand. “Sean?”
Ferguson said, “Dillon, I don’t think you’ve been completely straight with us on all this.”
“That’s nonsense. The card first reared its ugly head hidden in Frank Barry’s wallet. I found it and showed it to Harry immediately. I also explained its significance, isn’t that true, Harry?”
Miller nodded gravely. “Yes, I admit it is, but what you didn’t mention was your personal experience with the card.”
“Because I’d had the wind knocked out of my sails, Harry. It was a bad memory of a terrible night in the life of a nineteen-year-old boy all those years ago in Kilburn. So I got on with the business in New York and tried to push the bad memory away for a while, and then things started to happen. I left Kilburn forever when I went to Belfast for my father’s funeral. Frankly, I’ve always avoided it, and I’d no idea that Murphy was still at Holy Name.”
“Well, one thing’s for sure, he’ll remember your return,” Billy said.
“What happened?” Ferguson asked.
“I got angry and, you might say, I let rip, at least that’s what Billy would tell you, because he heard. But it was all on purpose. I figured a little acting job was called for. So if you’ll all take your seats and Roper turns on his recorder, we’ll begin.”
It took no more than twenty minutes, and when they were finished Roper switched off and Ferguson said, “Extraordinary. I find particularly interesting the remark Murphy made to you when he gave you the card. That it would be a comfort for all victims of a great cause. It