‘Taller, but not much thicker,’ Tony said. ‘They were spruce, I think. I remember them, straight and thin. You burned the clothes just past them.’

Karen nodded, did not articulate her version of the memory.

‘How much longer?’

‘A few minutes,’ Tony said.

Duggan followed behind, not speaking, though maintaining his distance from them. Tony wondered at his thoughts, whether he was attempting to apportion blame, attempting to decide whom best should answer for what they had done to Martin Kelly.

They trudged up the incline on the opposite bank of the stream, their steps wide and laboured. Tony couldn’t remember if they had taken this path, though he had a memory of having taken Karen’s hand at one stage, on their way back, as they had passed the stream.

‘Over to the left a little,’ Duggan said. ‘We headed towards the sunset as we came up this way.’

Tony didn’t remember that, thought indeed that the sun had set already as they first made their way through the woods. But Duggan seemed certain. Either way, they were close.

Sure enough, after ten minutes of walking, they broke out into a clear area. It stretched for several hundred yards down from where they stood. Looking now, Tony guessed that where they’d stopped was a liminal point in the woodland, the stage at which the original ancient forest gave way to newer growth.

‘There was spruce on one side and an oak on the other,’ Tony said.

He made his way along the line of trees until, over to his left, he could see the thin lines of spruce trunks appear through the gaps in the tree line.

‘It’s around here,’ he called, moving on, scanning the edge of the original woodland as he did, looking for the oak tree, which he remembered. Forty yards further down, he found it.

‘This looks about right,’ Karen said. ‘Somewhere around here.’ Her eyes shone, her lip quivered a little as she brought her hand to her mouth and took a breath. ‘This is it.’

They stood in silence for a moment, even Duggan, as he drew level with them, not speaking, simply looking around the clearing, nodding to himself, as if confirming some suspicion he had not shared.

‘Mark it on your phone,’ Mullan said to Barr. The youth took out a mobile phone and, opening the Maps app, dropped a pin on their current location. ‘Thank you, all,’ Mullan said, when that was done. Then he turned to Duggan. ‘So, what now, Hugh?’

Duggan regarded him, sullenly. ‘I trusted you,’ he said.

‘Trust? What would you know about trust?’ Mullan said, scornfully.

‘I gave everything,’ Duggan shouted. ‘Everything. Just like you. Except I’m not swanning about in chauffeured cars, joking with the enemy.’

‘No, you were joking with the enemy from the start,’ Mullan said. ‘We knew what you were. You want to shoot a traitor, you need to start with yourself.’