Page 89 of Final Betrayal

‘What did the boss want?’ he said.

‘Nothing to do with you.’

‘We better get to work so, or the two of us will get the sack.’ Tony marched off towards the site, where bricks were waiting to be hauled as the crane creaked overhead. He was glad it wasn’t windy. ‘Don’t trust those bastards.’

‘What bastards?’

‘The cranes. Too high up, and only one man operating it. What would happen if he suddenly lost his rag and decided to drop a ton of concrete slabs down on top of us?’

‘We’d be dead so we wouldn’t give a shit.’

Tony laughed.

‘What you laughing at?’ Conor said.

‘Just thought that was funny.’

‘You’re as weird as fuck. One minute you think the sky is going to fall in on top of you, and the next you’re laughing to yourself. You going mad or what, Chicken Licken?’

They reached the area where they were due to work today and Tony turned to reply, but Conor was gone. He looked all around, but there was no sign of him. He glanced at the crane again as it swung around in the morning breeze, its cargo of wooden slats sliding precariously. It looked anything but safe.

Without speaking to McMahon to request additional resources, because she knew he’d say he’d already given her Sam McKeown, Lottie grabbed her keys and headed for the yard. Boyd came down the stairs behind her.

‘What’s wrong with you this morning?’ he said.

‘I’m tired, that’s all.’ She unlocked her car and slid into the driver’s seat.

‘Want me to drive?’

‘Does it look like it?’

He jumped in beside her. ‘It’s Bernie Kelly, isn’t it?’

Lottie nodded. ‘She’s around somewhere and it’s eating me up that I don’t know where.’

‘Any word from Leo Belfield?’

‘Nope. And I don’t want him anywhere near me or I’ll throttle him.’ She shifted gears and sped out of the yard and down Main Street.

‘Where are we headed?’

‘Thought I’d have that word with Conor Dowling’s mother.’ She slowed at the traffic lights and swung into the lane to turn right for Gaol Street.

‘Don’t think he lives down this way.’

‘Want to make sure he’s at work first.’

‘Before you harass his mother?’

‘Yeah, something like that.’

The lights turned green and she turned right and drove to the building site. Ducky Reilly saluted her and waved her through the gate. She parked behind Cyril Gill’s Mercedes.

‘Looks like Mr Gill hasn’t taken compassionate leave.’

‘Not a crime,’ Boyd said.

‘Did I say it was?’

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