In less than a minute, Paul McGinty transformed Patsy Toner’s office from a drab, efficient workspace into something resembling a landfill. Campbell watched the eruption from a chair in the corner. He had to fight the urge to laugh when McGinty upended Toner’s desk, leaving the solicitor sitting in the middle of the room with books, folders and sheets of paper scattered all around him. Campbell was relieved when the urge passed, sparing him the unbearable pain it would have ignited in his side.
When McGinty’s rage subsided he stood panting among the destruction. “Jesus,” he said. “Look what you made me do.”
“I’m sorry,” Toner said.
“Sorry?” McGinty slapped Toner hard across the ear. “Sorry? All you had to do was make sure she got on the plane, for fuck’s sake.”
Toner brought his hands up to shield himself. “She’d checked in and everything. I couldn’t go through the security gates to see what she did. Honest to God, I thought she was away.”
McGinty paced the room, his hands on his hips. “Well, now you know different, eh?” He pointed at Campbell. “And you, you’re no better. I had to phone the Bull to tell him his cousin was dead. You’re bloody lucky he didn’t tell me to do you.”
Campbell went to speak, but his damaged rib protested as he inhaled.
McGinty continued to pace. “I should’ve been talking to the press right now, showing off Eddie Coyle’s face. All that’s fucked. Father Coulter, a priest for Christ’s sake. What’s wrong with Fegan?”
Campbell took a shallow breath. “I told you, he’s crazy.”
“Not so crazy that he couldn’t get the better of you.”
“Or maybe that’s why he got the better of me,” Campbell said, returning McGinty’s stare. “Don’t worry, he’ll show up soon enough. He’s still got you to come after.”
McGinty stopped pacing and glared at Campbell. “Get out, Patsy.”
Toner raised his eyes from his lap. “What? This is my office. You can’t—”
McGinty spun and kicked Toner squarely on the shin. “Get the fuck out or I’ll rip your fucking head off!”
Toner limped to the door, scowling.
When McGinty was alone with Campbell, he said, “Watch your mouth, Davy. I don’t want any talk of that. Not when there’s other people around.”
“All right,” Campbell said. “But you better be watching your back. Fegan could come at you any time, anywhere.”
McGinty sat down on Toner’s chair. “Maybe, if he’s got the balls.”
“Balls? Balls has nothing to do with it. How many times do I have to spell it out for you? He’s insane. He was a vicious bastard before; now he’s a crazy vicious bastard. All I’m telling you is watch out.”
“All right,” McGinty said, standing. “Now let me tell you something. If he shows up and you haven’t sorted him within thirty seconds, you’re the one who’d better watch out.”
Campbell held the politician’s gaze for as long as he dared before letting his eyes slip away. “So, what’s the plan?”
“The news.”
Campbell looked back to McGinty. “What do you mean?”
“Maybe you didn’t hear it. It’s mostly about Father Coulter, of course, how shocked the community is and all that. I did a couple of soundbites first thing this morning. But we got another wee story sneaked into the newsrooms, something about Marie McKenna and her daughter going missing. If some concerned citizen spots them they’re to call Lisburn Road Police Station where our friend will be waiting to answer the phone.”
“It’s risky,” Campbell said. “The cops might get to them first.”
“I promised our friend a nice bonus if he gets the call and passes it on to me. He loves his money. Mark my word, he won’t leave that phone all day. Besides, I don’t see what else we can do.” McGinty leaned forward and pointed at Campbell. “But listen hard, Davy. Don’t fuck it up again. If this flushes Fegan out, I want him done. You sort him or I sort you. Understood?”
Campbell got to his feet, his thigh complaining and his side shrieking. “Understood. If he surfaces, I’ll get him.”