BooksBarbecue
Back The Last Drop of Blood Save as PDF
Chapters (60)
  1. Cover
  2. INTRODUCINGKATIE MAGUIRE
  3. ALSO BY GRAHAM MASTERTON
  4. Title Page
  5. Copyright
  6. Epigraph
  7. Contents
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. 50
  58. 51
  59. About the Author
  60. An Invitation from the Publisher

‘He’s been shot,’ she said.

‘Get away out of here. Serious?’

‘One bullet wound in the back of the head. A hollow-point, too. When we turned him over, we found that he has only half a face.’

‘I can’t believe that,’ said Garda Phelan. ‘He was a pest, all right. Always twisted and causing a ruction in pubs. The last time we saw him we were throwing him out of The Bridle for gawking all over the floor. But not so much of a pest that he needed shooting.’

‘Well, I’ll have to call it in to DI Fitzpatrick. There’s no question that this was a homicide. We’ll be setting up a tent in a minute and seeing how quick we can get a pathologist up here.’

‘I’m totally confubbled,’ said Garda Phelan, once the technical expert had returned to the body. ‘Why in the world would anybody want to shoot a smelly old knacker who couldn’t even tell you what day it was?’

‘Maybe Patrick from The Bridle went after him because he’d had enough of him and one thing led to another.’

‘Oh, come on, Patrick? He’s as soft as a sofa, that feller. He’ll have to be questioned, of course, but he wouldn’t even squash a wazzie. No – I reckon that dead feen was involved in some shady Pavee business that we don’t know about, and it caught up with him. Maybe he owed another Pavee money. You know what those knackers are like. They’d shank you over a missing hubcap.’

‘I hate bodies. They’re so dead.’

‘That’s the definition of bodies, Neasa – dead. What do you expect him to do? Jump up and sing “Don’t Forget Your Shovel”?’

The afternoon wore on, and the shadows lengthened, and at last Timbo Coffey’s body was disentangled from the blackthorn bush and carried on a stretcher to the waiting ambulance. Cheated of their supper, the hooded crows squawked in annoyance and flew away.

25

Katie was still trying to cope with the chaotic aftermath of this morning’s explosion at the School of Pharmacy when Detective Inspector Fitzpatrick came in to tell her about the traveller’s body that had been found by the Ballyhooly Road.

She sat back. ‘Mother of God, that’s all I need. I think I must have answered a hundred and fifty phone calls about that bombing since lunch. Not that I had any lunch.’