“I know,” Miller said bitterly. “Pigs might also fly.” He
“I40
pulled on his raincoat. “Do you know what the unique feature of this case is?”
“I don’t think so, sir.”
“Then I’ll tell you. There’s nothing to solve. We already know who’s behind the killing. Jack Meehan, and if that damned priest would only open his mouth I could have his head on a platter.”
Miller turned angrily and walked out, banging the door so hard that the glass panel cracked.
Fallon had only taken off his shoes and jacket and had lain on top of the bed. He awakened to find the room in darkness. He had been covered with an eiderdown which meant that Jenny must have been in. It was just after eight when he checked his watch and he pulled on his shoes hurriedly, grabbed his jacket and went downstairs.
Jenny was doing some ironing when he went into the kitchen. She glanced up. “I looked in about three hours ago, but you were asleep.”
“You should have wakened me,” he said and took down his raincoat from behind the door.
“Jack Meehan said you weren’t to go out.”
“I know.” He transferred the Ceska to the pocket of his raincoat and fastened the belt.
“It’s that girl, isn’t it?” she said. “You’re worried about her.” He frowned slightly and she rested the iron. “Oh, I was listening outside the door. I heard most of what went on. What’s she like?”
“She’s blind,” Fallon said. “That means she’s vulnerable.”
“And you’re worried about Billy? You think he might try to pay you off for what happened last night by getting at her?”
“Something like that.”
“I don’t blame you.” She started to iron a crisp white blouse. “Let me tell you about him so you know what you’re up against. At twelve, most boys are lucky if they’ve learnt how to make love to their hand, but not our Billy. At that age, he was having it off with grown women. Whores mostly, working for Jack Meehan, and Billy was Jack’s brother, so they didn’t like to say no.” She shook her head. “He never looked back. By the time he was fifteen he was a dirty, sadistic little pervert. It was downhill all the way after that.” She rested the iron again. “So if I were you, I’d worry all right where he’s con-cerned.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Don’t wait up for me.”
The door banged and he was gone. She stood there for a moment, staring into space sadly and then she returned to her ironing.
Anna da Costa was about to get into the bath when she heard the phone ringing. She put on a robe and went downstairs, arriving in the hall as her uncle replaced the receiver.
“What is it?”, she asked.
“The Infirmary, The old Italian lady I visited the other day. She’s had a relapse. They expect her to die some time tonight. I’ll have to go.”
She took down his coat from the hallstand and held it out for him. He opened the front door and they moved out into the porch. The rain was pouring down.
Til walk,” he said. “It’s not worth taking the van. Will you be all right?”
“Don’t worry about me,” she said. “How long will you be?”
“God knows, probably several hours. Don’t wait up for me.”
He plunged into the rain and hurried down the path passing a magnificent Victorian mausoleum, the pride of the cemetery with its bronze doors and marble porch. Billy Meehan dropped back into the shadows of the porch quickly, but when the priest had gone past, he moved forward again.
He had heard the exchange at the door and a cold finger of excitement moved in his belly. He had already had intercourse twice that night with a prostitute, not that it had been any good. He didn’t seem to be able to get any satisfaction any more. He’d intended going home and then he’d remembered Anna. – Anna at the window undressing.
He’d only been lurking in the shadows of that porch for ten minutes, but he was already bitterly cold and rain drifted in on the wind. He thought of Fallon, the humiliation of the previous night, and his face contorted.