Silence by Anthony J. Quinn Read Free Book Online Page A

looked genuinely worried. ‘Father Walsh said you had some important documents to offer.’
    ‘That’s correct.’
    She glanced at his briefcase sceptically. He wanted her to know he was someone important, a stranger with a secret to tell, but she kept looking at him as though she didn’t quite believe him, this lonely old man with a limp and an empty-looking briefcase.
    ‘I’m his assistant. Why not let me handle it?’ She glanced at his briefcase again. ‘You’ve wasted enough time hanging around the hotel.’
    ‘I made a commitment to deal only with the priest,’ he replied. ‘These documents require the utmost delicacy. The risks are considerable if they fall into the wrong hands.’ He flinched a little, thinking of his empty briefcase. Had she guessed his deception?
    ‘If the documents are as important as you suggest, then the risks are considerable to Father Walsh, too.’ She sighed as though she was tired with the preamble. ‘That’s the problem with trying to dig up the past. Everyone has his or her pet conspiracy theories. It takes a while to work out which ones are the liars and fantasists and which are telling the truth.’
    Her probing look disarmed him.
    ‘What about you?’ he asked. ‘You’re a strange assistant for an elderly priest.’
    ‘I’m a writer. A journalist. Father Walsh and I are working on a book about murder. Mass murder, in fact. A series of killings organized by a secret committee of police officers, judges and politicians during the Troubles. The exposé of the century, you might say.’
    There was something childish about the excited look in her eyes.
    ‘You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘The only problem is we’ve hit a dead spot.’
    ‘Writer’s block?’
    ‘You could call it that. We need someone to fill in the blanks. Provide some fresh leads. Someone with access to old Special Branch files from the 1970s.’
    Hegarty tightened his grip on the briefcase, shifting it slowly, anything to disguise its emptiness.
    ‘First I need to find out what has happened to the priest.’
    ‘Why is it so important to see him?’
    Her question made him wary. He wondered whether her talk about being a writer was a lie. She behaved more like an investigator or an intelligence agent with her probing questions.
    ‘I need to talk to him before I work out my next step. In the meantime, no one else apart from you and the priest know I’m here. So I’m going to stick tight until he shows up. Right now, this is the safest place in the country for me.’
    In truth, however, he knew there were no completely safe places for him any longer.
    She leaned towards him.
    ‘Who are you hiding from?’
    ‘People who ask questions like that.’
    She smiled. She offered to buy him a drink but he refused.
    ‘I’m glad you came over.’
    ‘Why?’ If her behaviour was meant to reassure him, it wasn’t working.
    She shrugged and finished her drink. She glanced at her watch, and a stillness settled over her features. She was waiting for something to happen, thought Hegarty, but what exactly? A fear rose in him that he was not safe at all, and that he was trapped in a strange hotel with a dangerous woman. It had been a mistake, he realized, striking up the conversation in the first place.
    Her phone rang and she answered it briefly. She slipped it back into her handbag with a smile.
    ‘Good news. Father Walsh has returned.’ She stared unblinkingly into his eyes. ‘He’s in his room right now. You can come up with me if you want.’
    ‘What was the reason for the delay?’
    ‘He didn’t say.’
    ‘But surely he owes us some sort of explanation.’
    ‘No, he does not,’ she said curtly. Before he could protest, she stood up and waited for him to follow.
    ‘You must excuse me for a moment. I need to visit the bathroom.’ He grabbed his briefcase, its lightness reminding him of his vulnerability.
    She flashed him a look of impatience.
    ‘You have to