The Judas gate

Justin seemed quiet now, and Jean panicked. 'What's wrong?'

Murphy said, 'He's passed out, his pulse is weak, but it's there. Dr Ryan is on his way, so just leave me to do my job. I'm the nurse here. Go and have a cup of tea or something.'

He produced scissors and cut open Justin's battle blouse and eased him out of it. Fatima had used two wound packs and they were swollen with blood.

'Oh, my God,' Jean said.

'Just take her away, Jack, until the doctor gets here. You stay, Hannah,' Murphy said.

Kelly tucked Jean's arm firmly in his. 'Let Murphy do his job. During his years as a nurse in Belfast, he worked on more gunshot wounds than most battlefield surgeons.'

He took her down to the study and gave her a brandy in spite of her protests. 'Drink it down, it will help.'

She did as she was told, the warm glow steadying her, but refused another. 'Tell me what Justin meant when he said that what Dillon had done to him was natural justice.'

Kelly was caught and it showed in his face. 'Oh, he was just rambling.'

'Come off it, Jack, you're hiding something. It can't be any worse than what I've heard already, so spit it out.'

'Mickeen Oge Flynn's mishap… I was with Justin that night, he was out of his mind with rage about everything after the funeral. Dillon had been on the phone from London to Mickeen, and Paddy O'Rourke overheard. It was mentioned in PIRA circles and the news passed to me. I told Justin because, in his circumstances, I'd no choice.'

'And what did he do?'

'Insisted he and I go and speak to Mickeen, which we did, and found him under the car and working. Justin just lost it.

He was shouting at Mickeen, demanding to know what Dillon had been talking about.'

'And there was an accident?' Jean Talbot sounded so weary.

'Exactly, the jack was raised, Justin was-'

'Stop it, Jack,' she cut in. 'What happened to that old man wasn't any accident, you know it and I know it.'

Kelly couldn't help himself and blurted out, 'All right then, but Dillon believes that it was an accident. Mickeen's had serious brain surgery, he's in a coma. Dillon's had him flown over to a private hospital in London, but there's every chance he'll never regain consciousness.'

'And that's supposed to be good, is it?' Her face was white and strained. 'So it lets Justin Talbot off the hook, is that what you're saying?' She shook her head. 'What kind of world has it become when I'm surrounded by deceit and lies at every turn?'

She turned, wrenched open the door, ran out, and found Dr Ryan just being admitted at the front door by Hannah. It took Larry Ryan only fifteen minutes to examine the wound; they all waited for his verdict.

'No question, the bullet's passed straight through, which is fine, but he should be in the hospital.'

Jack Kelly said, 'How many times did you say that to PIRA volunteers who went to you for help in time of trouble, Larry – and we were grateful to you.'

'That's a kind of blackmail, Jack. I'd remind you I could get struck off.'

Jean said, 'Please, Larry, anything you can do.'

He sighed heavily. 'Damn Justin, he was always a wild man, but just for you, Jean.' He turned to Murphy, 'You're as good as I am at handling wound trauma. Keep a close eye on him. I'm going back to my place to pick up everything we'll need to set up a hospital bed.'

He went out and Murphy said, 'Why don't you all go and have a cup of tea, pull yourselves together so we can sort everything out when Doc Ryan's back.'

'Oh, I don't think so,' Jean began.

'He's right, Mum,' Justin murmured. 'Sorry about all this. I always was a bloody nuisance.' The Falcon had landed at Farley an hour and a half later than the Citation X had in Belfast. On the way in, Dillon stopped by Rosedene to check on Mickeen.

Professor Bellamy wasn't there, but Maggie Duncan was, and had a bit of news as they stood looking in at Mickeen through the window. He looked exactly the same as when Dillon had last seen him, lying very still with all the paraphernalia attached to him.

'He's moved a little, according to the staff on night duty. A line in his saline drip was pulled out, and they've reported sounds.'

'What kind of sounds?' Dillon asked her.

'Nurse Perry said she's heard long, low sighs in the middle of the night.'

'What does Bellamy think?'

Her practical Scottish nature came to the fore. 'Wee signs of hope, Sean, that's all he will say. It could be worse, though.'

'Absolutely.' He kissed her cheek. 'I'll be seeing you.' At Talbot Place, Justin's bedroom had been adapted as much as possible to hospital standards. His double bed had been replaced by a single to facilitate the nursing. He wore a hospital smock and there was a saline drip on the pole beside the bed, a portable machine on the other side measuring heart and pulse rates. Ryan had stitched both the entry and exit wounds, assisted by Murphy, and Justin, heavily bandaged around his waist, was propped up, the top of the bed inclined behind him.

Ryan had used local anaesthetic for the stitching, and Justin sat there, drinking glucose through a straw and looking surprisingly well. Murphy was sitting beside his bed when Jean came in.

'Go and get something to eat. I'll spell you,' she said, and Murphy got up and left.

She leaned down and kissed Justin's forehead. 'It's not so sweaty,' she said. 'Larry's done a first-class job on you.'

'Don't worry, I'll see he's taken care of.'

It was a careless and throwaway remark and in a way typical of him. 'He's taking a great chance, Justin. It's a criminal act in the eyes of the law. He could be struck off, his career ruined.'

'Okay, Mum, I take your point. Dammit, he did enough for men on the run during the Troubles, so now he's doing it for me.'

'When I hear you talking like that, I think I never really knew you. You use people, Justin, then throw them away.'

'That's a nice turn of phrase.' He smiled. 'Don't tell me you're turning against me, too? I mean, here I am, the wounded hero-'

She cut right in on him. 'Don't give me that, Shamrock, because I only see the young British and American soldiers you've killed – and for what? Because Justin Talbot enjoys war in all its blood and gore more than anything else in this life. When I look at you, I see the body count, and if that wasn't enough, I see Mickeen Oge Flynn lying under a car and that car collapsing on him.'

'It was an accident,' Justin said.

'That was no accident.' She shouted the words, carefully spacing them. 'I've spoken to Jack.'

A moment later, the door burst open and Murphy came in, Jack Kelly behind him. 'Is everything okay?' he said.

'No, it's not. Apparently, you've been shooting your mouth off, Jack,' Justin said to Kelly. 'We can't have that. I think you're maybe forgetting your place.'

'Justin, for God's sake,' Jean said. 'After everything Jack's done, to talk to him like that.'

'It's all right, Jean,' Kelly said. 'I always worried there was too much of his grandfather to him. He was Colonel Henry to the life for a minute there.'

He went out. Justin said, 'So now you'll go after him and say sorry? Well, I'm damned if I will.'

She took a deep breath, turned and went out, leaving the door swinging. Justin reached and opened the locker on his right side and found his rucksack. The pain on his left side was intense. He cursed, found the half-bottle of brandy and turned the cap with his teeth.

Murphy had closed the door and stood watching. 'You were dying when you got here and Doc Ryan's done a marvellous job, just about pulled you back from the brink. You could still die – I'd be failing as a nurse not to tell you that – but one thing is certain. Drink that stuff and you might as well order your coffin.'

'Is that so?' Justin Talbot said, and swallowed deep.