Part 33 (2/2)

He held up his bottle. *And this is Judas's carry-out.'

He cackled once and sat back. I glanced at Duncan, but he wasn't listening. He was staring out into the darkness, his face shadowed save for a hint of white where he bit down on his lip.

*He's not wise,' I said to the doctor.

*Wise enough,' said the doctor.

I looked back again. *You okay, Duncan?'

Duncan nodded absently. *Sure.'

*Thirsty?'

He cracked a little. *Aye.'

*Good.'

I nodded at Willie. *So what do you do for a living?'

He gave a gap-toothed smile. *What'dya think?'

I'd pretty much guessed already. *Does it involve fish?'

*Aye.'

*Catching them?'

*Smoking them.'

*You smoke fish?'

*Aye. And cigarettes.'

*Which do you prefer?'

*Well, I don't lie back with a smoked herring in me gob after s.e.x. He-he-heh.'

Finlay glanced back. *Since when did you start having s.e.x, Willie?'

*He-he-heh,' said Willie and snuggled down in his seat.

We drove in silence for about five minutes. There was no other traffic. Then Finlay nodded forward. *It's only up the road here,' he said.

*This Mulrooney that owns the field. He'd know the drink was there, wouldn't he?' I asked.

*I don't know,' said Finlay.

*We can hardly ask him,' said Duncan.

*But it's not likely someone can bury the entire contents of a bar in one of your fields and you not know anything about it,' I said. *He may be keeping guard.'

Finlay shook his head. *Gerry Mulrooney is eighty-nine if he's a day and is mostly away with the fairies. You could build forty-eight bungalows in his front garden and he mightn't notice.'

*Oh.'

*So we're not likely to be disturbed,' he continued, *at least not by him.'

*He-he-heh,' heheed Willie Nutt from behind.

*He's already disturbed,' I said.

Finlay shook his head. *Leave him be. He's as sound as a pound. He just enjoys his own company.'

The doctor pulled the car into an open gateway and then we trundled slowly along the edge of a field. When he stopped the vehicle and switched the engine off we were enveloped by the sound of angrily cras.h.i.+ng waves. Spits of sea and rain stung us as we clambered out. At least the noise of it all would disguise our digging. About three hundred yards back up on the brow of the hill sat Mulrooney's farm. There was a light in one window.

Finlay produced a torch from beneath his seat and shone it around the corner of the field where it dipped towards the sea. The gra.s.s, knee length everywhere else, was noticeably shorter here, but that was to be expected with the sea salt and wind.

*I'm sorry, I only have the one torch,' Finlay said, *but we should spread out along here, look for . . .'

*Look for this?' Willie Nutt shouted.

*Shhhh,' Duncan hissed nervously.

Willie had tramped some twenty yards back, unnoticed. His diminutive frame was almost lost in the dark, but as we hurried towards him we could see that he was standing by an untidy scar cut into the gra.s.s with a low mound of earth at its centre, like a scab.

Finlay clapped Willie on the back. *You have a nose for alcohol, young William,' he said.

Duncan shook his head. *Jackie didn't disguise it very well.'

*He's been careless because he's been nervous,' said the doctor.

We unslung the spades and stood on either side of the mound, each of us waiting for another to plunge the blade into the soft earth. The wind whipped through us. It was unpleasant business.

Willie Nutt offered his bottle round again.

We weren't that cold.

*Party time just around the corner, boys,' Finlay said finally and plunged his spade into the mound.

*Digging up our own pub,' said Willie, following suit. *Kegs and kegs and kegs of beer.'

*I'm going to set a keg up in my back room,' said Duncan.

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