Free The Trojan Boy by Ken McClure

thinks is a possible. By the time he's finished there'll be no one over four feet tall in Belfast!'
    'You've said enough!' said O'Neill harshly but only bec ause rank obliged him to. Drummond was a good man. There had to be a deal of truth in what he said. They changed cars twice, the last time to a news van which took them to the Long House.
    Kell seemed triumphant when they got there and was smiling when O'Neill announced his arrival.
    'I've found him!' said Kell.
    'Found who, Finbarr?'
    ‘ The bastard who betrayed you and O'Donnell.'
    O'Neill congratulated him and asked who it was. He did not recognise the name.
    'Mary Tynan's boy,' said Kell. 'He overheard O'Donnell and his mother talking about the meeting and what safe house you were going to use. He decided to sell you.'
    'Bastard,' said O'Neill. 'How did you find out?'
    'A process of elimination,' said Kell smugly. There were a limited number of people who knew about the meeting. We questioned all of them.'
    'Why did he do it?'
    'You can ask him. He's downstairs. In fact, you can carry out the sentence.'
    O'Neill descended to the sub-basement of the building accompanied by two others. 'He's in here,' said one of them opening up a heavy wooden door. The room was lit by a single bulkhead lamp encased in a wire screen that dripped with cobwebs.
    Lying in the corner, on a dirty camp bed and clad only in his underpants, was a boy of about twenty. His right knee-cap had been shot off leaving a bloody mess of bone and gristle. The room stank of fear and excrement.
    O'Neill approached the bed and looked down at the whimpering figure. The boy's head was turning rapidly from side to side and his lips were moving incessantly. 'Oh Mammy . . . Oh Daddy . . .' he repeated without pausing.
    O'Neill felt sick at the sight. 'Shut up!' he commanded but the boy appeared not to notice and continued with his chant, 'Oh Mammy . . . Oh Daddy . . .'
    'I said shut up!' snapped O'Neill and the noise stopped. 'Why did you betray us?' he asked.
    The noise from the boy's stomach said that he had lost control of his bowels again.
    'Answer me!' O'Neill insisted.
    'Money . . . money. It was for money,' blubbered the boy, trying desperately to avert O'Neill's anger.
    'How much?'
    Silence.
    'How much?' O'Neill brought his face close to the boy's.
    ‘ Two hundred pounds.'
    O'Neill repeated the figure while he considered O'Donnell's death and the loss of his own arm. 'What were you going to do with . . . two hundred pounds?' he asked.
    'A motorbike ... I was going to buy a motorbike.'
    Words failed O'Neill. He turned on his heel and went over to the two men by the door. One of them handed him a pistol and he accepted it without saying a word. Almost without a pause he went back to the boy and shot him once through the head.
    O'Neill left the room and went to the lavatory at the end of the passage where he retched up the contents of his stomach. He had difficulty supporting himself against the brick wall with only one hand and, as he looked down into the bowl, the empty sleeve of his jacket that Kathleen had tucked into his pocket swung free. It had a safety pin in the cuff.
    One of the two men had waited for O'Neill before returning upstairs and asked him if he was all right. O'Neill, avoiding his eyes, said that he was. As they got to the end of the basement corridor O'Neill heard a moaning sound come from one of the rooms. He asked about it.
    'Have a look,' said the man with what O'Neill thought was suppressed anger in his voice.
    There were three men inside the room. All had been knee-capped. The doctor who had performed the operation on his arm was tending one of them. He looked up at O'Neill as he came in then looked away again without saying anything. O'Neill backed out and closed the door.
    ‘ They were the other suspects,' said the man with as much sarcasm as he dared.
    The phrase 'process of elimination' repeated itself inside O'Neill's head.
    O'Neill was aware that Kell was searching his face