Part 67 (1/2)

graceful. Why had he never noticed before?

”It was a fine funeral,” Liam said, groping. ”Your mother'd be pleased

you brought him here to lie with her.” He poured, then thirstily downed

three fingers.

Outside the soft rain of Ireland began.

They'd never drunk together before, Brian realized. He poured more

whiskey into both gla.s.ses. Perhaps, at last, they would find some

common ground. With a bottle between them.

”Here's a farmer's rain,” Liam said, soothed by the sound and the

whiskey. ”A nice soft soaker.”

A farmer's rain. His little boy had dreamed of being a farmer. Had he

pa.s.sed that -much of Liam McAvoy into Darren?

”I didn't want him to be alone. I thought he should be back in Ireland,

with family.”

”It's right. You done right.”

Brian lit a cigarette, then pushed the pack toward his father. Had they

ever talked before, the two of them? If they had Brian couldn't

remember. ”It shouldn't have happened.”

”There's a lot that happens in this world shouldn't.” Liam lit the

cigarette, then picked up his gla.s.s. ”They'll catch the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds who

did this, boy. They'll catch them.”

”It's been a week.” It already seemed like years. ”They've got nothing.

”They'll catch them,” Liam insisted. ”And the b.l.o.o.d.y b.a.s.t.a.r.ds will rot

in h.e.l.l. Then the poor little lad'Il rest easy.”

He didn't want to think of vengeance now. He didn't want to think of

his sweet little boy resting easy in the ground. Time had pa.s.sed, and