Close Call Read Online Free PDF Page A

car.
    McManus drove her in his black Range Rover away from the Docks and towards the eastern suburbs of the city. It was unseasonably warm and Liz put her window down as the evening turned from dusk to dark. The smoky yellow of sodium lights lined the streets in glowing dots. They climbed a bit and were going past a series of large institutional-looking buildings, a few modern but mostly Victorian. ‘Where are we?’ asked Liz.
    ‘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