Gallows Lane

Epilogue

Wednesday, 23 June

Over the subsequent days, Paddy Hannon moved from protesting his innocence, to blaming others, to finally agreeing to make a detailed confession in return for a reduced sentence. His version of events was as follows.

Jamie Kerr’s return to Lifford had caused none of them any concern. Even when he confronted Peter Webb, no one had really worried. Webb was an old hand, reliable as they came. Then a Brit came looking for Webb after the guns were found on his land. His wife put two and two together and finally realized that her husband had, in fact, been an informer in the earlier days of the Troubles. She and her younger brother had confronted him. A scuffle had ensued and in a rage Danny throttled Webb. Panicking, they contacted Decko O’Kane, who helped stage Webb’s suicide.

Jamie Kerr had witnessed Decko’s arrival at the house and his departure with Webb’s corpse. When the body was discovered, he had easily pieced together the truth. He had indeed blackmailed Sinead Webb, but not for money. He had threatened to tell the police, unless she organized a meeting with Decko and the other member of the Castlederg gang. It was at that meeting that Kerr was killed, nailed to a tree. The joke was that Kerr had wanted to forgive them, Hannon said. But, he’d pointed out, he hadn’t wanted to crucify the man; Decko and Danny had done that.

Then, of course, Decko was arrested and released suspiciously quickly. Things were closing in on them. Decko had been sleeping with Webb’s wife; things were getting messy. If Decko was linked with Webb and Kerr and arrested, there was no guarantee he wouldn’t name Hannon in an effort to plea-bargain. And so they had dispatched him, just as we had seen. Hannon had been able to blackmail McLaughlin into doing his dirty work, even killing his sister’s lover, as Decko had told him that McLaughlin was borrowing cars for the night and bringing them back with blood stains on the seat. It hadn’t taken a genius to compare the dates with the attacks on the two girls and make the connection.

The rest we knew. Hannon played down his involvement in all aspects of the cases. He’d wanted nothing to do with it, even from the start, he’d said.

Still, that didn’t stop an eagle-eyed accountant employed by the NBCI from finding a paper trail leading right back to the funds gained from the Castlederg robbery in Hannon’s accounts. The Assets Recovery Agency plan to seize all Hannon’s belongings and the building site in Raphoe where Karen Doherty lost her life will, for the foreseeable future, remain unfinished.

Sinead Webb was arrested following Hannon’s statement and will face a number of serious crime charges, including her involvement in the murder of her husband, and aiding and abetting her brother in his attacks on Karen Doherty and Rebecca Purdy.

Hugh Colhoun still does not know his fate. Williams has decided not to press charges, as have I. He has been discharged from the Gardai. He offered no reason for his actions, though he claimed he had never meant for anyone to be hurt. I spoke to him once, briefly, during his interview. He apologized profusely and promised he’d do whatever he could to make it right. I had nothing to say to him.

On the Monday morning, the promotions list was finally pinned up on the noticeboard in the station. I was not surprised to find that my name was not among the twenty-five successful applicants. Patterson’s name, however, was fifth on the list.

An hour or two later Miriam Powell arrived in the station, to speak to Costello. On her way out, she came over to my desk.

‘Good morning, Miriam,’ I said.

‘Just thought you should be the first to know,’ she said, kissing the air beside me. ‘Harry Patterson has been offered the Superintendent’s position here. I put in a good word on his behalf that he should remain in the area. He’ll be starting at the end of the month. I’ve just confirmed it with your boss.’

She waited for a reaction from me, but got none.

‘I’m very happy for him,’ I said. And I meant it. If Jamie Kerr could forgive those who shot him and left him to rot in jail, and could do so in the face of ridicule and threat, it seemed churlish for me to bear a grudge against Harry Patterson.

‘I am sorry,’ Miriam said, trying to seem genuine. ‘He really impressed the board with the way he handled the Colhoun fiasco.’

‘Fiasco,’ I repeated. ‘That’s a nice way to put it.’

‘He will obviously put the needs of the station above his own private agenda. Like with that guns find. You really shouldn’t have told the panel it was sound, Ben. We already knew there was something fishy about it by that stage.’

‘We all make mistakes, Miriam,’ I said, tiring of the conversation and whatever emotional response Miriam Powell was attempting to elicit. ‘Thank you for letting me know. Pass on my good wishes to Harry.’

That afternoon, Caroline called at our house. It was the first time I had seen her in a number of days. Her parents had come up to take her to stay with them for a while. Peter was strapped into the seat beside her father, the back of the car packed with their belongings.

‘Going on holiday?’ I asked, nodding towards the luggage.

‘A little longer than that, I think,’ she said. Her wounds had begun to heal now, though she still wore a neck brace and the cast on her arm.

‘What about the work?’

‘I’ve handed in my notice,’ she said. ‘Costello said he’d keep the job open, but then, I guess it’s not his call any more.’

I nodded vaguely.

‘What about you?’ she asked. ‘Any thought of leaving?’

I shook my head.

‘Staying to fight the good fight,’ she said, aiming for levity. We both laughed, unconvincingly.

‘When will you be back?’ I asked, swallowing back a lump rising in my throat.

She smiled sadly. ‘I don’t know.’

‘But you will be back, right?’

This time she said nothing. The space between us lay pregnant with unspoken words.

‘What about the house?’ I asked, turning to practical matters in an attempt to keep the conversation going. ‘Do you need me to keep an eye out?’

‘I’ve arranged with a local estate agent to let it out for a year; see how we get on.’

‘A year?’ I said.

‘For now.’

We stood looking at one another, both desperate to find something safe to say.

‘Why? Will you miss me?’ she asked.

I looked at her, considering my response. ‘I guess I’ve gotten used to you,’ I said. Caroline smiled sadly, and I could tell she was struggling not to cry. She extended her hand and we shook. ‘I have to go, sir.’

‘Ben,’ I said.

‘Ben,’ she echoed.

She half turned to leave, then turned back and we hugged awkwardly at first. Then I pulled her tighter against me, so she would not see my tears.

‘Take care, Caroline,’ I said.

She responded, her words muffled somewhat against my skin. Then she turned and climbed into the car. Her parents and Peter waved as they drove off, smiling as if embarking on a grand adventure. But Caroline did not look out.

I watched their car till it disappeared at the end of the road, my hand raised foolishly in farewell.

In an attempt to ignore the sadness I felt, I spent that evening clearing out the attic, busying myself with rearranging old books and bags of baby clothes now too small for either of our children.

It was while I was sorting through old toys that I heard a noise through the baby monitor. Assuming Shane was stirring for a bottle, I went into his room. He was already standing in his cot, his arms gripping the vertical bars, a juvenile prisoner. When he saw me, he raised his arms to be lifted and fell backwards, landing softly on his rump. He giggled once with pleasure, then said, ‘Daddy.’ He seemed to take even himself by surprise and repeated it, clearly, beaming with pride at his achievement.

I picked him up and brought him downstairs for his bottle. I knew Debbie would be waiting. ‘Daddy,’ he repeated, patting the side of my face with his soft fist.

I kissed him lightly on the forehead as he clung to my shirt and found myself smiling.

On such small victories must the future be built.