‘Did you think I was stupid, Hugh?’ Mullan said. ‘Did you think I’d not have seen what you were at? Looking to settle some scores before you bow out. Going in a blaze of glory.’

‘That’s not true,’ Duggan said, sullenly, backing up from where Barr stood.

‘That is, Hugh, and you know it. Richard here checked your bag in the car. Nothing in it but that gun and your flag and gloves. You weren’t planning on ever leaving here, were you?’

Duggan stared at him, his mouth moving wordlessly, his lips dry, save for a speck of white spittle balled at one corner. ‘Martin was my friend,’ he said. ‘And you made me kill him. Not you or Doherty. Me.’

Mullan nodded. ‘Like I said, we thought you were the tout. Even after she said she saw Kelly, we thought maybe you were still pulling the strings. I wanted to see if we could trust you. If you would shoot your own friend.’

‘I did it.’

Mullan nodded. ‘You did indeed.’

Barr coughed lightly, to get Mullan’s attention, tapped the face of his watch lightly. The exchange brought Duggan to his senses.

‘How will I be remembered?’ he asked, his head bowed a little, looking up at Mullan.

‘As a good comrade who never got over the loss of his friend.’

‘What are you doing?’ Tony asked.

Duggan looked at him, then back to Mullan. ‘I’m not ready.’

Mullan nodded. ‘You wanted answers, Hugh. That’s why you came here. You got them. We made a mistake. The boy here wasn’t selling us out, he was protecting a kid and she was protecting him. Martin was a mistake. Our mistake. But it’s done now.’

Tony moved over to Mullan. ‘What are you doing?’

‘We’re leaving the past behind,’ Mullan said. ‘It’s a new beginning. We have to go, Hugh.’

Duggan nodded.

Mullan walked past him, laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Safe travels, Hugh. Let’s go, you two.’

Duggan stared at him blankly, watching him leave, but made no attempt to follow.

Barr loaded two bullets in the gun, slowly, carefully. He caught Tony’s eye, indicated with a nod of his head that they should leave.

Karen walked across and stopped next to Duggan, her face flushed. She pressed her cheek against his, whispered something that only Duggan could hear. He nodded, but did not speak.

Tony approached him, trying to find something to say, something to adequately express thirty years of conflicting feelings. ‘Are you… I don’t…’

Duggan looked through him, nodded, his mind elsewhere, his lips still moving soundlessly.

‘Do you want us to stay with you?’

‘I’m trying to remember something,’ the man muttered.

‘What is it? Tony asked. ‘Is it about Martin?’

Duggan looked at him, clearly now. He raised his chin a little. ‘J.B. Books. That was his name.’

‘Let’s go, Tony,’ Barr said.