Scully walked over to Minogue.
"Any minute now," Scully said.
"I don't see all your lads, is there more of them?" Minogue asked.
"Ah we don't need an army now," Scully said smoothly.
"Are they obliged to stop here? Heading north?"
"Not obliged. But people slow down."
"Do you put down some barrier?" Minogue persisted.
Scully shook his head.
"You're making a lot out of this now. Leave the details to me. Everything's in place. We're here to just see that everything goes smoothly. Don't be worrying," Scully soothed.
Minogue could smell the sea. It was mixed in with the smell of turned soil. He looked to the north again, at the lights of their customs post. A few hundred yards away were British soldiers like on the telly, with real guns and real uniforms.
"Oi," said Scully behind him. Minogue turned. The lights of one vehicle were approaching from Dundalk.
"Over here," Scully said. Minogue followed him to the customs post and stood next to him in the shadows. The big detective joined them. A radio squawked under his anorak and he reached in to turn it down. Minogue caught a few words before the volume went.
"Car's through, maintaining speed. Roadblock in place-"
"What roadblock?" Minogue whispered.
Allen had the road to himself. Only one lorry passed him going south. No lights appeared in his mirror. He felt some relief that he wasn't being followed. He wondered why there were so few vehicles on the road. Ahead of him the lights of the Irish customs post formed an island in the darkness. The place looked deserted. Allen knew that this post here at Killeen had been blown up a half dozen times in the past. Often it was closed down at night. He could see lights on the far side of the border now. He slowed the car and let it coast up to the light. He knew he didn't have to stop. There was someone on duty in the office. Yellow glare filled the car interior. Agnes was squinting. Allen noticed an army Land Rover and several cars parked some distance behind the customs post. For a moment he felt a bolt of panic, but nobody was out on the road. There was no barrier. He drew abreast of the shed and looked in.
A customs officer looked out at the car through the grid of wire. Should he stop? The customs man made no gesture but continued looking dully out at the car. Allen's eyes were straining to see better.
"God, what a pack of ujits," Agnes said. "They don't know whether they're coming or going."
Allen was almost at a standstill.
"Go ahead" she said, "you don't have to stop, so you don't. It's just that everybody slows down to a crawl. If they want you, they wave."
Allen clutched into second gear.
"What roadblock? I don't see a roadblock," Minogue hissed. The car was pulling away from the customs post. Minogue saw a profile of the driver, yellow light on his shoulder. There was someone else too. Agnes. Minogue felt an aching in his shins and knees. His mouth was dry. The night was suddenly lurid to him with the lights and the evasions. He fixed his eyes on the red lights of the car drawing away.
The detective took out his portable, squelched it and handed it to Scully.
"Gone through now. Over," Scully said.
"What's going on?" Minogue said, louder.
"A success. That's what's going on. What do you want?" Scully said. Minogue looked at Scully's shadowed face. It confirmed what Minogue had felt from the voice: a changed man.
"Who's going to stop them?" Minogue said.
"The other crowd. The Brits," Scully replied. He turned and nodded to the others who began heading for the door of the customs post. Minogue overheard one of them saying 'big deal.'
Minogue grabbed Scully's arm. Scully's head darted around.
"It's a set-up, isn't it?"
Scully looked disparagingly at the hand holding him. He shook himself free.
"Your superiors didn't burden you with too much info. Leave well enough alone, now. Your job's done, so's ours."
"What's going to happen?"
"Look Minogue. There's reasons."
Minogue stood in front of Scully.
"I want to know, Scully. I'm involved."
Scully stared a hole in Minogue before replying.
"We have to give the Brits something. They're moaning about security this side. They're expecting this. We had that tip-off about the car and we passed the ball to them. It's a token. They get the credit and so do we for delivering. We'd have a job convicting them in the South probably. Trade, tit for tat," Scully said.
"But you would have missed the car if I hadn't come up with Allen," Minogue protested.
"If, if," Scully repeated, looking out into the darkness. "Fair dues to you, we would have missed him all right. I'm not saying we're not beholden to you for it. That's why you get to be here, sitting next to me," Scully murmured.
He turned abruptly to Minogue.
"A day here, a day there, what does it matter in the end? We're all on the same side, Minogue."
Panic ran up from Minogue's knees and prickled his scalp. He looked at the red lights of the car. He heard the engine pick up speed. Scully ignored Minogue and looked at the car too.
When Minogue heard himself speak, the voice seemed to belong to someone else. Scully's frown had eased as he stared at the small bowl of light in the distance.
"What if he tries to run it, Scully?"
"He'd want to be a terrible stupid gobshite to try that class of a stunt, I'm thinking," murmured Scully. "Their border lads are sharp little thugs."
Scully hadn't taken his gaze from the car lights ahead. Doesn't care, Minogue realised dully.
"The girl," Minogue said. "The girl in the car with him, she's-"
"The girl in the car is the girl in the fucking car, Minogue. For all you know, she's in cahoots with him somewhare along the line," Scully snapped. "Maybe you didn't twig to her."
"She's not, I tell you," said Minogue hoarsely. "I know she's not."
"We'll find that out then, won't we? Let them sort it out."
Minogue grasped Scully's arm. He felt the muscle tense. Scully turned to him.
"Get your shagging hand offa me or I'll drop you, Minogue."
"These are cowboys, these border patrols, Scully. You know that. They're trigger-men. They're volunteers, they're just itching to take the law-"
"Get back in the car, Minogue. I've had enough of this rubbish. I'm going to lodge a slip on you for this. Shut up and get-"
Then Minogue ran.
He heard Scully's shout hang in the air behind him as the night air brushed over his face. With the glare ahead, Minogue was running blind. The road thumped the soles of his leather brogues. His coat flapped behind him. The raised voices behind him mixed with the sounds of air rushing into his nostrils. His shins cracked with each slap of his |eet on the tar. Beneath him was darkness and all around darkness, just the glow of light ahead, like a magnet drawing him. It occurred to Minogue that he might well be shot at. The night seemed full of his breathing and flapping. Ahead of him the tail-lights glowed stronger as the brakes were applied.
Minogue prayed for the brake lights to stay on. He saw a figure step into the light ahead. It looked like the figure was carrying a stick, a hurley maybe. Minogue's chest was bursting, his legs jellying. Old, old. He was slowing. Spots of light danced all around him, a crazy swirl swarming around the lights ahead too. As though floating, Minogue took note of the low hedge running along beside him. For an instant Minogue thought the dream would end. He was getting no nearer the lights. It was an endless treadmill where he lost ground quicker than he gained it. He hoped he wouldn't trip. He knew he wouldn't be able to talk if he caught up to the car and that could be dangerous. The thing was, he must get her out of the car.