'Yes. When?'

'An hour.'

'I'll be there.'

'We don't have much time, Cal.'

He was going to tell her he knew that, but the line was already dead.

The ache in his bruised bones improved miraculously after the conversation; his step was light as he went upstairs to check on Brendan.

'I have to go out for a while. Dad.' 'Have you locked all the doors?' his father asked. 'Yes, the house is locked and bolted. Nothing can get in. Is there anything else you need?' Brendan took a moment to consider the question. 'I'd like some whisky,' he said finally. 'Do we have any?'

'In the book-case,' said the old man. 'Behind the Dickens.' Til fetch it for you.'

He was sliding the bottle from its hiding place when the door-bell rang again. He was of half a mind not to answer it, but the visitor insisted.

'I'll be with you in a minute,' he called upstairs; then opened the door.

The man in the dark glasses said: 'Calhoun Mooney?' 'Yes.'

'My name's Inspector Hobart; this is Officer Richardson. We're here to ask you some questions.' 'Right now?' said Cal. 'I'm just about to go out.' 'Urgent business?' said Hobart. Wiser to say no, Cal reasoned. 'Not exactly,' he said.

Then you won't mind us taking up some time,' said Hobart, and the two of them were inside the house in seconds.

'Close the door,' Hobart instructed his colleague. 'You look flustered, Mooney. Have you got something to hide?' 'Why should . .. ? No.'

'We're in possession of information to the contrary.' From above, Brendan called for his whisky. 'Who's that?'

'It's my father,' said Cal. 'He wanted a drink.' Richardson plucked the bottle from Cal's hand and crossed to the bottom of the stairs. 'Don't go up.' said Cal. 'You'll frighten him.'

'Nervous family.' Richardson remarked.

'He's not been well,' said Cal.

'My men are like lambs,' said Hobart. 'As long as you're within the law.'

Again, Brendan's voice drifted down:

'Cal? Who is it?'

'Just someone who wants a word with me. Dad,' Cal said.

There was another answer in his throat, though. One which he swallowed unsaid. A truer answer.

It's the rats. Dad. They got in after all.

4.

The minutes ticked by. The question came around and around, as if on a carousel. It was apparent from Hobart's probing that he'd spoken at length with Shadwell, so outright denials from Cal were fruitless. He was obliged to tell what little part of the truth he could. Yes, he did know a woman called Suzanna Parrish. No, he knew nothing of her personal history, nor had she spoken of her political affiliations. Yes, he had seen her in the last twenty-four hours. No, he did not know where she was now.

As he answered the questions he tried not to think of her waiting for him at the river; waiting and not finding him and going away. But the more he tried to put the thought from his head, the more it returned. 'Restless, Mooney?' 'I'm a little hot, that's all.' 'Got an appointment to keep, have you?' 'No.'

'Where is she, Mooney?' 'I don't know.'

'There's no sense in protecting her. She's the worst filth, Mooney. Believe me. I've seen what she can do. Things you wouldn't believe. Makes my stomach turn over to think of it.' He spoke with complete conviction. Cal didn't doubt that he meant all he said. 'What are you, Mooney?'

'What do you mean?'

'Are you my friend or my enemy? There's no middle way, you see. No maybe. Friend or enemy. Which?'

'I've done nothing against the law.'

Til be the one to decide that,' said Hobart. 'I know the Law. I know it and love it. And I won't have it spat on, Mooney. Not by you or anybody.' He took a breath. Then stated: 'You're a liar, Mooney. I don't know how deep you're in this, or why, but I do know you're a liar.' A pause. Then: 'So we'll start over again, shall we?'

'I've told you everything I know.'

'We'll start from the beginning. How did you meet the terrorist Suzanna Parrish?'

5.

After two and three quarter hours on the carousel, Hobart finally bored of the ride, and pronounced that he was finished with Cal for now. No charges would be pressed, at least not immediately, but Cal should consider himself under suspicion.

'You made yourself two enemies today, Mooney,' Hobart said. 'Me and the Law. You'll live to regret that.'

Then the rats left.

Cal sat in the back room for five minutes, trying to gather his thoughts, then went up to see how Brendan was faring. The old man was asleep. Leaving his father to his dreams, Cal went in search of his own.

6.

She'd gone, of course; long ago.

He wandered around in the vicinity, searching amongst the warehouses, hoping she'd left some message for him, but there was none to be found.

Exhausted by all the day had brought, he headed home. As he stepped through the gate back onto the Dock Road he caught sight of someone watching him from a parked car. One of Hobart's clan, perhaps; one of the Law-lovers. Maybe Suzanna had been nearby after all, but unable to make her presence known for fear of being spotted. The thought of her being so close, frustrating as it was, cushioned the blow of not seeing her, at least a little. When things were safe, she'd call him and arrange another rendezvous.

In the evening, the wind got up, and it gusted through the night and the following day, bringing the first chill of autumn with it. But it brought no news.

II.

DESPAIR.