Stephen Leather - Dead Men

‘All guns issued to officers are test-fired at the PSNI’s Weapons and Explosives Research Centre and they keep a ballistic report on file along with a sample casing and an expended round,’ said Button. ‘WERC gave our technical people their samples and the report and, as I said, the bullets are a match. So, now we’ve got two of Carter’s killers dead, and three still alive. For the time being, at least.’ She pointed at the photograph in the middle. ‘This is Gerry Lynn. A hard man, is Mr Lynn. He’s the one who shot Carter in the legs. They went in to kill Carter, so the shots to the knee seem to have been nothing more than badness on Lynn’s part. Ballistics showed that his wasn’t a killing shot. He was released after serving three years, again under the Good Friday Agreement.’ Shepherd looked expectantly at the file, but Button shook her head. ‘Mr Lynn is very much alive, but is obviously a little jittery.’

‘Under police protection?’

Button chuckled. ‘Far too macho to let the police take care of him,’ she said. ‘The IRA have him under wraps. He’s been their golden boy since the Northern Bank robbery in December two thousand and four.’

It had been Ireland’s biggest ever raid. A group of men had kidnapped bank employees and got away with twenty-six million pounds, which, by all accounts, had swelled the coffers of the IRA. ‘Lynn was involved in that?’

‘That’s the intel the RUC had, but it was never proved.’

‘They never found the bulk of the money, either,’ said Shepherd.

‘It’s been laundered by now,’ said Button. ‘And if Lynn kept any, it’s well hidden.’ She tapped the photograph second from the right. ‘The driver, Willie McEvoy, was the first to be caught and was sentenced to life. Released six years ago under the Good Friday Agreement. Now he’s a drug-dealer in East Belfast. Heroin, cocaine, cannabis, you name it, Mr McEvoy can supply it. He’s been refusing police protection, no doubt because he’s afraid it’ll cramp his style.’

Shepherd picked up the fifth photograph. ‘This one I know, of course,’ he said.

‘Ah, yes, he’s quite the celebrity,’ said Button. ‘Noel Kinsella. He fired one shot in the Carter house, which missed. Bullet ricocheted off the floor and smacked into a kitchen cabinet. Once Lynn and Dunne were taken into custody, Kinsella did a runner. He was located in the States and the authorities started extradition proceedings but even after Nine Eleven the Americans were loath to do anything to offend the Irish-American lobby so they entered a legal limbo. Then Kinsella had a change of heart, stopped opposing extradition and agreed to fly to the UK.’

‘Because he knew that under the Good Friday Agreement he wouldn’t do any time?’

‘Exactly,’ said Button. ‘He pleaded guilty, showed no remorse, was sentenced to life by a very angry judge, and was out on the streets by teatime. The thing that set alarm bells ringing was that the killing started after he agreed to come back and face the music.’

‘The last straw, is that what you mean?’

‘At least the others served some time, even if only a few years. But it was all over the papers that Kinsella was coming back into the welcoming arms of Sinn Fein and that he wouldn’t be doing any time. There’s even talk of a role for him in the Northern Ireland Assembly.’

‘Is that possible?’ asked Shepherd.

‘The way things are going, you can’t rule it out,’ said Button. ‘It’s Alice in Wonderland territory.’

‘Two murders don’t necessarily mean there’ll be more,’ said Shepherd.

‘Two murders with Robbie Carter’s gun can’t be coincidence.’

‘If it’s the widow, good luck to her,’ said Shepherd.

‘That’s a gut reaction,’ said Button.

‘They killed her husband in cold blood and walk out after a few years,’ said Shepherd. ‘That’s not justice.’

‘It’s not about justice, it’s about bringing an end to the IRA’s armed struggle,’ said Button.

‘The Government did a deal with terrorists,’ said Shepherd. ‘Lay down your arms and we’ll let your killers go free.’ He pointed at the photograph of Carter. ‘They shot him in ’ninety-six, right? The IRA called a ceasefire in ’ninety-four. Then, because things weren’t going their way, they called off the ceasefire and were killing again. When the Government caved in they announced that the ceasefire was on again.’

‘He was unlucky, that’s for sure.’

‘Luck had nothing to do with it,’ said Shepherd. ‘The IRA shot him like a dog. I tell you, if they’d killed someone I loved I doubt I’d stand by and let bygones be bygones.’

‘I never took you for a vigilante,’ said Button.

‘When it’s personal, all bets are off,’ said Shepherd. He studied the photograph of Noel Kinsella. ‘This is recent?’

‘Taken a year ago at one of his extradition hearings.’

Kinsella was in his early thirties, good-looking with a strong chin, piercing blue eyes and jet black hair slicked back with gel. ‘Is your interest because you want to put the wife away, or because you want to protect Kinsella? Him being married to a Kennedy and all.’

‘A very minor Kennedy,’ said Button.

‘I seem to remember that Ted was at the wedding,’ said Shepherd.

‘I wouldn’t read too much into the connection,’ said Button. ‘The issue is more about making sure that no harm comes to someone who was extradited from the States. I know that Kinsella effectively returned of his own accord but our government went to a lot of trouble to get him back, and if anything should happen to him, it’ll make it that much harder to extradite anyone else.’

‘So it’s more about protecting IRA killers than it is about catching whoever’s knocking them off?’

‘Two men have died,’ said Button. ‘Let’s not forget that.’

‘Three, if you count Robbie Carter, and from my perspective, he was worth a dozen of them. Here’s a question for you, Charlie. Let’s suppose Elaine Carter’s been killing these guys and let’s say we put her away. How long will she get?’

‘That’s for the court to decide, Spider.’

‘Premeditated murder? Three shots including one in the back of the head? She’ll get life. And for her life will mean life. There’ll be no early release, no Good Friday Agreement to put her back on the streets.’

‘No one ever said life was fair,’ said Button.

‘So why did the case end up on your desk?’ asked Shepherd.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know what I mean,’ said Shepherd, sitting back in his chair and linking his fingers behind his head. ‘Has SOCA decided to target her, or has someone in government decided they want to protect the husband of a minor Kennedy?’

‘Two murders have been committed, Spider. That puts it within our brief.’

‘No argument there. But we’re not in at the request of the Northern Irish police, are we?’

‘They won’t know you’re on the ground, that’s true.’

‘And your old firm? MI5?’

‘This is a SOCA operation. We won’t be clearing it with anyone else.’

‘Which means when I pop up with my English accent everyone and anyone could be checking up on me.’

‘Which is why your legend will be watertight.’

‘Like the proverbial duck’s arse?’

‘I’ll be watching your back, Spider.’

‘I know that, Charlie,’ said Shepherd. ‘That’s never an issue.’ He ran his finger through his hair. ‘I’ve done some dirty jobs, but putting away the widow of a dead cop has to rank pretty much at the top of the list.’

‘If she’s doing it, she’s a serial killer. You can empathise with her, you can sympathise, but if she’s a killer we have to stop her.’