Page 36 of The Devil's Price

"Not quite. There are a few players we're not sure about and we have to fish them out." His expression turns serious and he taps the paper against his opposite palm. "Are you willing to ride this out a bit longer? We need a few more things to come together before we can play our hand, but we have to do it the right way. We want every guilty party who played a part in this at the same time. No chance for an escape act by any of them."

I'm sickened, scared to death of what Callahan may be capable of. He was in my kitchen that night, without alarming my security or setting off the penthouse sirens. He actively threatened to kill me if I didn't do what he said. Now he's going to be free for as long as it takes McVeigh to finish this thing.

"I'm not sure," I say, feeling like retching right here again. "Sir, these men are threatening to kill me."

"And you have one of them in your bed," he says, raising his eyebrows. "Surely, you can pursue this a bit longer." A cold chill makes me shudder. McVeigh knows I’m fucking Finn? It paralyzes me for a moment as I think of how he knows. I told him I was going undercover, snooping out dirt on them, but that wouldn't immediately mean I'm fucking him.

"How?" I say, narrowing my eyes on him.

"Eyes and ears are everywhere, Ms. Gallagher, and while you did come forward to tell me what was happening, I can't look past the indiscretions." He sets his jaw and his eyes wash with a serious expression that I know means he's not backing down. I've dug my grave and I have to lie in it now. "Whatever thingyou have going with O'Rourke will produce sufficient evidence to ensure our friend Callahan goes away for a long, long time. And how I gather my information is of no consequence to you." He sighs and stands back up.

"For now, just trust that you've found one moral soul who hasn't been perverted by the dark thread that weaves through the rest of this system trying to snake its way into any life that will allow it." He walks around his desk and blinks at me. "And sweep your home for bugs at least once a week."

The friendliness in his tone relaxes my shoulders. I see honesty in his eyes when he looks at me, and I nod. "Thank you, Sir."

"Then you're on board to sink these feckers back to the depths of where they came from for good?" McVeigh's eyebrows rise, and I nod with certainty. I know what I'm doing and I'm going to finish it—for Trevor.

"Yes, sir. Let's do it."

I may be shaking the entire way, but I'm going to finish this if it's the last thing I do. And when it’s done, I’m going to reassess whether finding Trevor's killer is the right thing for my future. I have a baby to think about now.

26

FINN

The courtroom is packed today, standing room only. Solicitor Quinn has called his final witness, and following that, we will hear the closing arguments. I spoke with Siobhan this morning in her penthouse curled around her naked body as she told me quietly how scared she was for today. I assured her that it would be fine, that we would figure it out. I told her then to say only truthful statements and let the chips fall where they may.

Now as Quinn takes his rest and sits behind his table next to Mick, I'm concerned Siobhan won't be able to follow through, that her resolve will wane and she will fear the tentacles of this machine poised to devour her more than the fear of doing the wrong thing. I, myself, have been in this position so many times in my life and I've always chosen to do the wrong thing. Though the monster hunting me is a life separated from my family, while hers is certain death. The Doyles won't care about ethics or whether she was right or wrong for her arguments.

"If that's all, we'll move to closing arguments." Callahan scowls at Siobhan. It's been his constant expression for the past week.He knows she has seen him for who he is and he doesn't know how that all came about yet, but with the evidence we have against him, there's no getting out of it. Siobhan says her boss, McVeigh, will step in. She's sure of it. But she's still frightened.

"Of course, Your Honor." She stands, tugging the hem of her suit jacket, then walks around the tables to stand in front of the jury box. It's her time to shine. I don't know what she'll say, but after lying in bed with her agonizing over closing arguments last night, I know she believes Mick is innocent now.

Siobhan sucks in a deep breath so loud the entire courtroom can hear it, though that's not difficult. You can hear a pin drop in here. There are murder cases every year in Dublin, but this one is the case to follow. Rival syndicates have blown up this city quite literally in an attempt to ensure the pieces fall on the right sides of this division. Ronan has men prepared to storm the Doyle compound and take them all out if investigators don’t get there first. I'll just be happy to take Siobhan into my arms and hold her as the stress of it all melts off her.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, what you've heard over the past few months is testimony in the case against Mick O'Connor accused of murdering Aiden Hughes in cold blood." She paces as she walks, carefully avoiding eye contact with Mick or the judge. She's walking a tightrope and she knows it. One wrong move and she falls, and there's no safety net to catch her.

"You've heard Mr. O'Connor's testimony, how he lied about his alibi, only later to reveal that he was with another woman the night of the murder." She's choosing her words carefully, but they're not looking good for Mick. I hear the bench behind me squeak and know it's Brennan. I reach over the back of my bench and take her hand and squeeze it as Siobhan continues.

"You’ve heard that it's possible for him to have left the sex worker's house and make it to the scene of the crime, murder the man, and then return to the sex worker's house. You’ve seen video of Mr. O'Connor at that same sex worker's house to prove he was there. And you've also heard testimony that his DNA, along with a muddy boot print in his same shoe size and tread pattern, were found at the scene of the murder."

She pauses and turns to look at me, then spins around back to the jury. I watch her carefully. She seems unsteady on her feet, a sign of the nerves she's trying to swallow down. She's hoping for a hail Mary, for her supervisor, the director of public prosecutions, to come in and stop this nonsense. The fear etched on her forehead shows me she doesn't want to cross that swindling judge, but she has to do what's right.

"And you've heard how Detective Garda Liam Kearney was alone at that house when the alleged evidence was found." The statement makes a few members of the audience gasp, but she doesn't stop. "All of this may lead you to doubts or hesitancy to convict Mr. O'Connor, and I implore you, as citizens of this great country, to do your due diligence and consider all the evidence."

Callahan is glaring, face red, seething with rage I know he’ll turn to action soon enough. Siobhan strolls back to her seat on wobbly legs as Callahan stares her down. A court official walks up to him carrying a manilla envelope, sliding it across the bench carefully. The judge nods at him and clears his throat as he opens it and pulls out a slip of paper. Everyone is on the edge of their seat waiting as he looks up at Siobhan with more hatred than anything else in his expression now.

"Please give me one moment. Everyone must remain seated." Callahan stands, taking the envelope with him, and walks out the back entrance of the courtroom into his chambers.

Siobhan looks over her shoulder at me, biting her lip, and I nod at her reassuringly. Something is coming, an explosion we can all sense. Whatever this is isn't normal, and abnormal usually means not good. I wonder for a moment if it's her boss's intervention, but there's no sign of that. And when I look back at Brennan, she seems just as anxiously confused as everyone else.

"What's happening?" Rebecca whispers, but no one, not even Ronan seated to Brennan's left, can answer.

When the judge returns and walks back up to his seat at the bench, he removes his glasses and sits down. "It has come to my attention that the counsel on this case has become compromised." He rubs the bridge of his nose in an exaggerated act that seems overly dramatic before continuing. "Ms. Gallagher, you are being removed from this case, and I'm forced to declare a mistrial."

"What?" she gasps, standing up. Her fingers press into the wood of the table. "I demand to know why!"

The room is a babbling brook, a constant undercurrent of hushed whispers and talking. Judge Callahan shakes his head, lips pursed, and smacks his gavel on the sounding block.

---