‘I think we’re off a little,’ Tony said. ‘I remember when we came in, the sun was setting already, but you could still see it burning on the horizon. My memory was that it was up to the left more, so, if we’re meant to head north, that should be across to our right a little.’

Mullan looked at Duggan. ‘You’re the man in charge. You wanted to come here. Is he right?’

Duggan looked around him, staring straight ahead as far as he could see, then across to the right, where a path of sorts seemed to insinuate its way through the trees.

‘We’ll move right a bit,’ he concluded. ‘If the path doesn’t take us anywhere, we can always come back here.’

‘We’ll never be back,’ Tony muttered.

‘What?’

Tony shrugged. ‘The Road Not Taken? He keeps one for another day but knows he’ll never be back.’

He glanced at Mullan, but he seemed disinterested at best.

‘I used to teach it,’ Tony explained. ‘How your life choices changed your later life.’ He lifted eyes a little, looked at Karen, reflected that the last time they’d walked through these woods, they’d had a possible future together lying ahead. Now, they had separate pasts behind them. The problem was, Tony couldn’t work out what choice he’d made which had resulted in that outcome, or indeed if the choice had been his at all.

As if sensing his gaze, or sharing his thought, Karen looked up at him, raising her eyes from the undergrowth which she was scanning to ensure she didn’t trip. She smiled, a little sadly, and he wondered if it was for the graveness of the situation in which they now found themselves, or in shared recognition of the thing they had lost.

‘How much longer?’ Barr asked, his voice a mild shock after his long silence. The question held no tiredness, no frustration.

‘We’re not done yet,’ Duggan muttered.

Chapter Forty-Five

Chapter Forty-Five

‘We’re not done yet,’ Mullan said. ‘Sit down again.’

Tony had drained a glass of Jamesons, swirling the whiskey in his mouth to help rinse away the taste of blood. He knew people used alcohol to clean wounds, so hoped that the whiskey would keep the loosened tooth clean and free from infection. His leg was another matter. The sharpness of the initial injury had passed and now his skin felt inflamed, each small wound angry.

‘Can I go now?’

The question elicited a laugh from the three men.

Tony took his seat, but the three men remained standing, Mullan and Duggan leaning against the desk, the unnamed man standing to one side, nearer to Tony, the length of wood in his hand once more.

‘Where were you on Saturday night?’

‘In my flat.’

‘Anyone with you?’

Tony shook his head. ‘No one.’