Minogue stole a glance at Fine and noted the wry expression.

“We’d given up her getting married,” Fine added with the beginnings of a faint smile. He met Minogue’s cautious eye and smiled weakly. “Tough piece of work, the same Julia.”

“Great,” said Minogue. “The only way to be, I’m thinking. We have one like that. She’d frighten the wits out of lesser mortals.”

Fine’s smile rallied, but then dropped off his face. He turned to look out of the window again.

“I gave you that woman’s name, didn’t I?” said Fine. Minogue looked from Fine to Cohen. Fine seemed to sense the tension immediately, and he sat up and looked at Cohen. “Oh it’s all right, Johnny. For God’s sake, it’s not dirt or anything. Everything counts in this line of work. I gave you her name, didn’t I?”

Minogue nodded. Paul had had a girlfriend, Mary McCutcheon. She was a journalist.

“Although he never talked to me directly about things like that.” Fine paused as though to weigh his words. “He never introduced her to us. I think he was ashamed. Yes. But I believe he was very fond of her.”

Minogue felt the acid sting of tears on his own eyes and he turned back in his seat, blinking, while Billy Fine wept in the arms of his friend.

CHAPTER THREE

“Did any of ye hear of these lunatics before?”

Kilmartin and Minogue shook their heads.

“The League for Solidarity with the Palestinian People. Not a foreign accent either. Mother of Jases, as if we didn’t have enough to be going on with,” the Commissioner declared. “I have a lot of faith in you fellas. So does the whole country too, let me tell you. Yous have the nose for getting convictions.”