BY THE TIME we reached the pier, it was in chaos and swarming with guards. Two black dogs bounded about, getting under everyone’s feet, and there was a shout for someone to control them. The battered old Punto I’d seen at Sliabh Sneacht the day I’d met Róisín and Susanne had been dumped carelessly at the top of the stone steps leading down to the water, and was now being examined by the same men in protective clothing who’d been in our office earlier. For some reason, I had a flashback to the sleek black Lexus that Luke had driven when I had known him first.
“Where has she gone, do you think?” I asked.
Molloy and I stood gazing impotently at the rough grey sea, the land on the other side cloaked in mist. I could just make out Culdaff beach, where Stan had been hurt on New Year’s Eve. He’d saved Susanne’s life, just as Molloy had saved mine. We hadn’t talked about what had happened at the boatshed. Molloy didn’t seem ready; his face was strained, a blackened mask of shock. Being closer to the explosion than the rest of us, he could easily have been killed, but the main force of the blast had been in the other direction, towards the sea, saving him. The ambulance had wanted to check him out, but he’d refused, insistent on following Róisín’s trail while the fire brigade battled the blaze. I’d insisted on coming too. I didn’t know what I was feeling yet – relief, disbelief, anger – but I knew I wanted to be with him. I was shaken and sore, knowing that in some strange way I’d experienced what Faye had, and that the shock of that would set in later.
“Scotland probably,” Molloy replied. His voice sounded odd. My ears were still ringing after the blast, but I knew it wasn’t just that. “At first, anyway. All coastguards have been alerted. Hopefully we’ll get her.”
I’d realized that that was why Susanne had been meeting George – she was blackmailing him to arrange a boat. She really had been under Luke’s thumb, using her contacts to get what he wanted, thinking all the time that she would be going with him. Or maybe she’d done it for Róisín, her old school friend? I pictured Susanne’s pale, stunned face as she’d climbed into the ambulance with Stan. I hoped the loose ties were design rather than accident. I wanted to believe that Róisín had wished for our escape.
“How come Stan was with you?” I asked. I didn’t mention Luke, but I knew Molloy was thinking about him – it was written all over his face.
“He rang me while I was in Derry. You were right, by the way. Kirby was staying there. Registered in the UK, but Northern Ireland rather than England as we assumed. One of the flats in the house was registered to a Dominic McLaughlin – Kirby was using his name.”
I nodded. Somehow, I’d known that Luke had been in the vicinity the past few weeks, even before I’d met him at Tony’s party. I suspected he was behind the small, taunting things that had been happening too.
“It was Kirby who hit Stan,” Molloy said. “Róisín told him Kirby wanted to kill him and that she was the only one stopping him.”
I pictured the two of them sitting at the fire, the look of fear on Stan’s face. “I thought Róisín was protecting him, but instead, she was the one who was threatening him. Stan saw Luke with Carole in Derry. He had to be persuaded to stay quiet about that.”
Molloy nodded. “Róisín made him go to the beach. She told him Tony wanted to meet him to talk. And then she persuaded him to put the blame for the assault on Tony rather than Luke.”
“And all Stan wanted was a relationship with his brother. What made him decide to tell, finally?”
“Exactly what you’ve just said. Family. He made up with Tony earlier today, once he thought Róisín and Kirby were out of the picture. Tony told him that he had decided to divide the pub with him and acknowledge him as his brother. Stan hadn’t expected that.”
“So he decided to save Susanne, his niece?”
Molloy nodded. “He didn’t want Tony to know what was going on, that he’d been aware Susanne was at risk. Stan knew about the boat and the boatshed, having overheard Róisín and Susanne on the phone. Unfortunately for Susanne, she was only aware of part of the plan.”
“Stan kept quiet because he felt isolated,” I said. “He thought Róisín was his only friend.”
Molloy was silent. One of the dogs appeared at my feet and I bent down to rub its head; there was something comforting about the brown eyes and untroubled face that gazed up at me. “You were right about a lot of things,” Molloy said at last. “I’m sorry. Kirby was after you.”
I shook my head. “Getting back at me was just a bonus. He wanted a new life, a new mask. It was all an act. Luke Kirby would have used that organization for his own ends, whatever those happened to be. Although he underestimated Róisín.”
“He couldn’t have had his own agenda with an organization like that,” Molloy said. “Once Róisín had the explosives, she was fully prepared to ditch him; she’d realized he might be a liability.” His jaw tightened. “Susanne thinks he killed Carole in a fit of temper. She said there were times when she thought he was going to hit her, but he never actually did.”
I’d seen Molloy speak to Susanne at the door of the ambulance but hadn’t heard what had been said. The truth was that I had no idea what she had been through these past few weeks. “That’s probably because she always did what he wanted,” I said. “That was always Luke’s problem. If someone didn’t do as they were told, he’d lose it. I think that must have been what happened to Faye.” My voice broke and I swallowed back the tears, knowing that if they came, they wouldn’t stop.
Molloy put his arms around me.
“Kirby is dead,” I whispered. The words didn’t seem real.
I felt Molloy tense as he gazed out to sea. “I lost it when I saw him with his hands …” He trailed off. “I’ve never killed anyone before.”
I pulled away. “You didn’t kill him. Luke Kirby was killed by his own bomb.”
He didn’t look at me. His face was grey beneath the black. “If I hadn’t left him unconscious, he’d still be alive. He’d have been able to escape the blast.”
“But you saved my life.”