“Thanks to Quinn, we didn’t have much choice. Quinn led me back here. And you made sure I found the things he wanted me to find. A wife and a daughter. A pile of money. A torn tram ticket. A photograph of a Lisbon Street. Maggie Donahue wanted no part of it. She was too busy trying to survive in a shithole like the Ardoyne without a husband. But you threatened her into doing it. You told her you’d kill her if she went to the police. Her daughter, too. And she believed you, Billy, because she knows what happens to touts in West Belfast.” Keller laid the barrel of the gun along Billy Conway’s cheek. “Deny it, Billy.”

“What do you want?”

“I want you to swear that you’ll never go anywhere near that woman or her child again.”

“I swear it.”

“Wise boy, Billy. Now get out of the car.”

Conway sat motionless. Keller slammed the gun into his broken nose.

“I said get out!”

Conway pulled the latch and staggered from the car. Keller followed after him. “Start walking,” he said. “And while you’re walking, tell me where I can find Eamon Quinn.”

“I don’t know where he is.”

“Sure you do, Billy. You know everything.”

Keller shoved Conway along the track and fell in behind him. From the trees of the Creggan Forest came the crack of a hunter’s twelve-gauge. Conway froze. With a jab from the barrel of the Glock, Keller prodded him forward.

“How did Quinn get out of England?”

“The Delaneys.”

“Jack and Connor?”

“Aye.”

“He wasn’t alone, was he, Billy?”

“He had two women with him.”

“Where did the Delaneys drop them?”

“Shore Road, near the castle.”

“You were there?”

“I picked them up.”

“What kind of car did you have?”

“Peugeot.”

“Stolen, borrowed, or rented?”

“Stolen. False plates.”

“Quinn’s favorite.”

Two more shotgun blasts, closer. A brace of pheasants took flight from a field. Smart birds, thought Keller.

“Where is he, Billy? Where’s Quinn?”

“He’s in South Armagh,” said Conway after a moment.

“Where?”

“Crossmaglen.”

“Jimmy Fagan’s farm?”

Conway nodded. “The same place we took you that night. Quinn says he wants to nail you to the Cross for your sins.”

“We?” asked Keller.

There was silence.

“You were there, Billy?”

“For part of it,” admitted Conway. “The two women are in the same building where Quinn strapped you to that chair.”

“You’re sure?”

“I put them there myself.”

They had reached the edge of the trees. Billy Conway stumbled to a stop.

“Turn around, Billy. I have one more question.”

Billy Conway stood motionless for a long moment. Then slowly he turned to face Keller.

“What do you want to know?” he asked.

“I want a name, Billy—the name of the man who told Eamon Quinn that I was in love with a girl from Ballymurphy.”

“I don’t know who did it.”