‘Where’s Mullan? And the other guy?’

‘They’ve gone,’ Duggan said. ‘They don’t stay for this part. Mullan won’t get his hands dirty.’

Tony stepped in front of Karen, his arm outstretched to stop her moving forward.

‘What happens now? I’m not going anywhere until I know what’s going to happen.’

‘We shoot the tout,’ Duggan said. ‘We’re taking him to Skiff Woods and we’ll leave him there. All three of us need to do it. That way, no one will ever speak about it again.’

‘Who was it?’ Tony asked, feeling his stomach flip as he spoke as he swallowed back the rising burn of whiskey once more.

Duggan’s eyes flushed and he sniffed once as he regarded something on the far wall. ‘Kelly,’ he said.

‘Kelly?’ Tony felt first a rush of relief, followed just as quickly by shame at the joy he was feeling at another man suffering for his crime. ‘Are you sure?’

‘That’s Mullan’s decision. We just do as we’re told. Let’s go. The car’s outside.’

Tony looked at Karen and, for just a second, could have sworn he saw a change in her expression, from terror not to a look of relief, but of regret.

Chapter Forty-Eight

Chapter Forty-Eight

The look of regret on Karen’s face was the first thing that alerted Tony to his mistake. He rewound the sentence in his head, trying to work out the flaw. The others stood in silence, each considering the implications of his words. He’d only managed to do so himself, when Duggan himself spoke.

‘How did you know his name?’

Tony feigned ignorance. ‘Who? What name?’

‘Hamilton,’ Duggan said. ‘No one told you his name. How did you know?’

‘I must have overheard one of you talking about it,’ Tony said.

Duggan shook his head. ‘We made a point of never naming him. You shouldn’t ever have known his name.’ He pulled the gun free from his bag again. ‘How did you know his name?’

‘What difference does it make?’ Tony asked, his mouth suddenly dry, his jaw tight.

‘You knew his name. I want to know how.’

Tony looked from one face to the other and they were all closed against him, with the exception of Karen.

‘I must have heard it somewhere?’

Duggan nodded, moved closer to him, the gun raised. ‘I know that. I want to know where.’

‘I don’t remember,’ Tony said.

Duggan progressed on him, the gun steady now. ‘Where?’

Tony took a step back, felt the roughness of a tree trunk against his rump. ‘I can’t… I don’t remember.’

‘You spent that week looking to get out of it,’ Duggan said. ‘You hated Martin. I remember. You set him up.’