‘Barry – you know the score. How many times have we done this before? I’m asking you to come to the station voluntarily so that we can clear up a couple of points without having to go through the whole arrest procedure. It’s in your interest as well as ours.’

Barry stared back at Detective Sergeant Begley with that expression he had seen on so many criminals over the years. It was boredom, more than anything – the look of men and women who feel nothing at all for the rest of humanity and its morality. The only times they will ever cry is when their own comfort or their own freedom is in jeopardy. Then they will sob like babies, even the toughest of them.

‘I’ll just give the old doll a kiss and tell her where I’m off to, if that’s all right with you, and then I’ll get my coat.’

‘Take your time, boy.’

Barry went back into the kitchen. Megan said, ‘They’ve not arrested you, have they?’

‘No. But I’m playing Mister Co-operative and I’m off to the cop shop with them so that they can ask me some questions, which I won’t be giving them the answer to. Give Molan a bell, will you, and tell him that’s where I am. But if the shades come asking you questions, you don’t know nothing at all, remember?’

‘Barry – I don’t know nothing anyway.’

‘Jesus’s under-grundies, you can say that again.’

42

Katie found Brendan upstairs in the communications room, his arms folded, watching the aftermath of Operation Hubbard on CCTV. The Bord Gáis tent was being dismantled, although the pavement outside The Weavers was still cordoned off. An ambulance had backed down the hill and the bodies of the three dead gang members were being carried out on stretchers.

‘Ah, Kathleen,’ said Brendan. ‘I was on my way to see you so. I suppose some sort of congratulations are in order. Not that I’m overjoyed about the death toll. There’ll have to be an inquest of course and there’ll be all kinds of prickly questions asked by the press. One minute we’re not doing enough to combat crime in Cork and the next we’re overreacting and firing guns off all over the place. Yourself included, so I’m told.’

‘Those Riordans were armed to the back teeth, sir. They had two AR-15s and half a dozen automatic pistols, Glocks and Sig-Sauers. We were haunted we didn’t suffer any casualties ourselves, apart from one badly bruised shoulder. I’ll be filing a full report.’

Although Sergeant Murphy and the rest of the gardaí in the communications room appeared to be giving their full attention to the CCTV screens in front of them, Brendan could see that they were half-listening to him and Katie, too.

‘Let’s go back down to my office, shall we?’ he suggested.