‘The university,’ said McManus. After a pause, he added, ‘I was there.’
‘Really? What did you read?’
‘Business studies. It seemed the practical thing to do. I’m a local lad – my dad was first-generation Paddy, and worked on the docks till they closed. I didn’t know what I wanted to do; I just wanted to get out from his way of life.’
‘Why did you join the police then?’
‘Because I was bored by business.’ He turned his head and gave a wry smile. ‘If I’d stuck with it I’d have gone mad before I was thirty.’
Liz laughed, and McManus said, ‘Where’d you grow up?’
She explained, and he said, ‘Sounds very posh. Your dad a grandee?’
‘No, he just worked for one.’ This time McManus laughed. They were in the suburbs now, tree-lined streets with large detached houses. ‘This is what I was aiming for,’ he said, gesturing around them.
‘Aren’t you still?’
He shook his head. Liz said, ‘What’s changed?’
‘It’s called maintenance,’ he said with a trace of bitterness. But then his tone changed and he was all business. ‘I’m meeting an informant. He’s just over from Belfast; the RUC’s passed him on to us.’
‘You sound doubtful.’
McManus nodded. ‘I am. He’s a tricky little sod.’
‘How so?’
‘His RUC handler said they were never sure how reliable his information was. They had doubts about his real allegiances – nothing they could put their finger on. He seemed to provide just enough to keep them interested but not enough to be really useful. They were pretty sure he could have given more if he’d wanted to. They’ve sent him over here to see what we make of him. He’s supposed to be getting alongside the Provo sympathisers here.’
He pulled the car over and parked at the top of a rise. Down the street a little below them was a small precinct of shops. At the corner there was one still open; it had a retro neon sign Liz could just make out – it said Café Noir. McManus pointed at it. ‘That wine bar’s where we’re going to meet. I’m going to stand by the door smoking and chummy will come past me and go in. I’ll have a look round to check he’s clean then join him – there’s a little room in the back where we can talk. Purvis and Cardew are parked further along that street, watching my back from there. You can watch it as well from up here. I’m not expecting any bother. I’ll leave the keys in case you need to move the car, but whatever you do, don’t drive down the hill.’
‘I thought—’ Liz began to say, but McManus had already opened the door and was halfway out of the car.
He said, ‘Won’t be long.’ And he slammed the door and began striding quickly down the hill towards the wine bar.
Liz sat there, fuming. The paper work in the office was bad enough, but having the promise of something real to do, only to have it snatched away, was worse. Why had McManus brought her here if it was only to leave her in the car while he met this informant? He already had two detectives watching his back – though it seemed a bit unprofessional to have them both in the same place – so he didn’t need her as well. And what if she did see anything? She had no way of contacting him to warn him. Maybe he’d brought her along to find out more about her so that he could pass it on to the others. Yet he didn’t seem that kind of man. So what exactly was he doing?
McManus had almost reached the wine bar now, and he stopped and casually lit a cigarette. He lounged by the entrance, studying the menu in the window. There was no sign of his contact, or anyone else – the street was deserted.
Then she heard footsteps on the pavement behind the car. Two sets. She grabbed her bag and rummaged through it, keeping her head down in case she was noticed sitting alone in a parked car and someone got the wrong idea. The footsteps had reached the car now, but thankfully they didn’t slow down, just went on past. Slowly she lifted her head and saw two men wearing short leather jackets, jeans and trainers. They looked young and fit. She wondered if they were plainclothes policemen – but these two weren’t Purvis and Cardew, and McManus hadn’t mentioned any other backup.
A car came up towards her from down the hill, and as its headlights swept across the pavement she saw the two men suddenly stop and tuck themselves into some bushes growing at the front of someone’s garden. The car went past and the two men continued down the hill. They didn’t want to be seen; Liz wondered why. Unless they weren’t police at all.
The two men stopped again and exchanged a few words. They were still only about forty yards ahead of Liz, and she watched as one of them crossed the street. The other one waited for a moment; he was out of the direct light of the street lamp but she could see him clearly enough. He had his hand behind his back and as he brought it round something glinted momentarily, and she caught on: it was a handgun. He held it for a moment then tucked it away under his jacket.
She hesitated. Was it a gun? Could they be plain-clothes police? If it was and they weren’t, there was no time to waste. The two men were now halfway between her and McManus, still outside the wine bar. They would reach him in a couple of minutes.
Liz slid over behind the wheel and turned the keys in the ignition. The engine responded right away. She turned on the side lights and pulled out into the street, coasting down the hill. As she passed the two men, one on each side of the street, she tensed, half expecting them to fire at her. They were striding quickly now and the one on the right-hand pavement had pulled his gun and was carrying it in his hand openly.
As she passed them she suddenly switched on the headlights full beam, blinding a van coming up the other way, and as she picked up speed she began hitting the horn so it sounded loudly in short warning beeps.
When she reached the wine bar she braked hard, coming to a sudden halt just in front of the entrance. She reckoned she was seventy or eighty yards in front of the men. McManus was looking startled. She pushed the button and the window on the passenger side came down. She yelled, ‘Get in quick.’
‘What the hell—?’ he said.
‘There’s a couple of gunmen just behind me. For God’s sake, get in.’
McManus looked over the top of the car back up the hill. The two men had stopped; they must have been uncertain what was happening. By now Purvis and Cardew had seen the commotion and came roaring up from the other direction.
‘What’s going on, Guv?’
McManus was shouting into the car radio, calling out an armed team. He broke off to yell at the two men, ‘Up the hill. Two of them. Get up there now. See if you can follow them but hang back – one of them’s got a gun, possibly both. Armed response is on the way. Keep in touch.’
‘Park up there,’ he said to Liz, pointing to a space in front of the line of shops.
‘Shouldn’t we help go after them?’
He shook his head. ‘No. A gun fight’s no place for you. Anyway, odds are they’ll be gone. I need to wait here in case chummy shows. Though that seems a bit unlikely now.’
‘You think he set you up?’
He nodded. ‘Must have. Unless he’s blown and they were after him. If he doesn’t turn up we’ll know which it is. Either way, he’s not going to be any more use. I’d give you odds he’s safely back in Ireland by now, thinking he’s helped assassinate a Special Branch officer.’
They sat in silence then, too shaken to talk, McManus keeping his eyes on the street ahead, while Liz kept a lookout behind through the rear-view mirror. It must have been ten minutes before a car pulled up in front, and Cardew and Purvis got out.