‘They signify absolutely nothing,’ she replied. ‘I only mention them by way of contrast: you know, in comparison to the tiny red spots on all of your skins that signify you’ve had police marksmen training laser-sighted rifles on you since you got here.’

The three cops looked at each other and saw the little red dots on each other’s foreheads, which had moved there from less conspicuous places since Fallan gave the code word.

An electronically amplified voice hailed them from the rim of the quarry, where the marksmen were positioned.

‘Put down your weapons slowly, place your hands on your heads and get down on your knees,’ it commanded.

Cairns and McDade let out gasps of disbelieving exasperation, but all three of them complied with the order immediately, smoothly and demonstrably. These were men who implicitly understood the equation governing risk to civilians and margin of doubt in the minds of trained police shooters. One involuntary twitch and they’d be dropped. This was over.

‘What was that about not recognising a trap when you see one?’ Jasmine asked Cairns, backing away from where the three men were now kneeling on the earth.

Cairns didn’t even look at her by way of response. He only had eyes for Fallan.

‘How about that,’ Fallan said. ‘Me, bringing down the bad guys, just like my old man always didn’t.’

‘Your old man?’ Cairns asked, then spat on the ground. ‘I suppose, under the circumstances, I might as well let you know now. It was me that killed him.’

He spoke with real venom, true conviction.

Fallan stared down at him pityingly.

‘I’m not the kind of guy who can always tell when somebody’s lying,’ he said. ‘But I can tell you’re lying about that. You were too big a shitebag, and you haven’t changed. Anyway, I’ve got to go, and there’s a guy on his way down wants a word with you. Something about locusts and mosquitoes, I think he said.’

Family (i)

Catherine wouldn’t normally allow anybody to smoke in the car, but she was making an exception. Dominic Wilson was so jumpy that she feared he’d throw open the rear door and dive out while the vehicle was in motion if he didn’t have a cigarette to occupy himself. Catherine was in the back with him, Laura at the wheel, her little dark cloud just a shade lighter these past few days. She’d been quieter, though; more reflective, but when she did speak, she was less deferential. She seemed to have developed a strange fascination with Glen Fallan, which Catherine was less happy about, but anything that helped bring out the detective Catherine had heard about from her colleagues on the east coast would be tolerated.