Free A Box Full of Darkness (Wilson Book 5) by Fee Derek Page A

after Sean’s death, this house was raided and torn apart by RUC men and soldiers. They were supposed to be looking for evidence that Sean was a member of the IRA.’ A gob of spittle crept out of the corner of his mouth. ‘They broke every stick of furniture we owned but none of them ever asked for a statement on my son’s murder.’
    There was a box of tissues at the side of the bed. Wilson removed one and handed it to Lafferty.
    ‘But perhaps your son was a member of the IRA,’ Jackson said.
    ‘Wash your mouth out,’ Lafferty said dabbing at the corner of his mouth with the tissue. ‘The boy’s head was full of football and girls. There was no room inside for politics or trouble.’ He glanced to his right at a photograph of a young boy on the wall. ‘He had a head of woolly black hair and could run as fast as the wind. He thought that he was going to be the next George Best and have girls hanging off him. The only consolation I have from the cancer is that I’ll be seeing him soon.’
    ‘You remember that night?’ Wilson asked.
    ‘That’s not the question, Superintendent. It’s whether I could ever forget it. Do you have any children?’
    ‘No,’ Wilson said. In that moment he realised that he had lost someone.
    ‘Then you a lucky man. You’ll never have the grief of picking up the broken body of your only son in your arms in the middle of a street. Over the years, I’ve watched pictures on television from places I’ve never been and seen people just like us crying over their dead children. Every time I’ve seen those pictures, I’m back in 1974, and I only have to stand at my window and I can witness the horror all over again.’
    Sinead Lafferty returned and handed Wilson a saucer with a teacup already filled. ‘I’ve no place to put a teapot and cups down so I had to doctor the cup with milk and sugar myself. I hope it’s all right for you.’
    ‘It’s fine.’ Wilson took the cup.  ‘Tell us what happened?’
    ‘The boys were having their usual kickabout on the street.’ Lafferty wheezed as he spoke. ‘I was standing at the window watching them and hoping that a ball didn’t come flying through my window. Can you pass that glass of water?’
    Wilson handed his tea to Jackson and reached for the glass of water that was beside the bed. He held it so that Lafferty could drink.
    ‘Thanks.’ Lafferty took a sip of water. ‘You’ve got a kind face, Superintendent. I rushed out of the house and ran to Sean. He was lying on his back and his chest was covered in blood. I didn’t have to check to know that he was gone. I just cradled him and cried.’
    ‘You heard the shots?’ Wilson asked.
    ‘There was a burst of machine gunfire from the top of the road and suddenly all the players were on the ground.’
    ‘How do you know it was machine gunfire?’
    ‘I was in the army, five years,’ he said looking at Jackson. ‘Like that bloke there. I know the type. It was a Stirling. No, it was two Sterlings.’
    ‘Simultaneous firing?’ Wilson asked.
    ‘No, one slightly behind the other.’
    Wilson did a simple calculation. The Sterling held a magazine of 9mm Parabellum rounds; two bursts meant that a maximum of sixty-eight rounds had been fired. ‘Did you look towards the top of the road?’ Wilson retook his tea and sipped. He noticed that Jackson had also been supplied with a cup.
    ‘I did. I only saw the tail of a blue car disappearing. Whoever fired the shots must have been in that car.’
    ‘Did you tell the police about the car?’ Wilson asked.
    ‘I tried but nobody was listening to me.’ Lafferty’s head was back against the pillows.
    ‘Did you follow-up with the police enquiry team?’
    Lafferty made a noise in his throat. ‘Police enquiry team my arse. I went to the station every day for a month. They left me sitting for hours before telling me to be off home.’
    Wilson finished his tea. He wasn’t sure that they had learned anything but he was bothered by the absence