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

of a proper enquiry and the callous way the grieving family were treated. And then there was the absence of a ballistics report.
    ‘Will you promise me something, Superintendent?’ Lafferty said.
    Wilson nodded.
    ‘You look like an honest man. I think you might stand a chance of finding out who murdered my son. Promise me that if you find the name of the man who murdered him and I’m still alive that you’ll come back and tell me.’
    Wilson passed his cup to Jackson. ‘Be a good man and give those cups back to Mrs Lafferty.’ He turned back to the bed. ‘It’s the coldest of cold cases. There’s no evidence collected or left. I’ve got to be honest with you. There’s very little chance of me finding out who murdered your son. But I promise you that if I do find out I will be back.’
    Michael Lafferty lifted up a skeletal right hand and extended it toward Wilson. ‘Thank you.’
    Wilson shook the bony hand. ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’
    Lafferty let his hand go. ‘It’s a little late but it’s appreciated.’
    Wilson turned and saw that Jackson was at the door. Sinead Lafferty was nowhere in sight so they made their way to the front door by themselves.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
     
     
     
    They exited onto the footpath of Beechmount Parade. Wilson thought about the lives of the people in the house he’d just left. One was turning the key on Heaven’s gate and the other looked bent and beaten by life. They had suffered the ultimate tragedy. They had lost their only child and it hadn’t been through accident.
    ‘Do you think that was wise, sir?’ Jackson asked as soon as they were on the footpath.
    ‘Do I think what was wise?’
    ‘Making a commitment like that.’
    Wilson hadn’t been aware that Jackson had overheard his final conversation with Lafferty. ‘I wasn’t conscious that I had made a commitment.’
    ‘You used the word “promise”, sir.’
    ‘Then I suppose that I must have meant to use it.’ He was well aware of what he had just done.
    ‘I just don’t think it was wise.’
    ‘Well, thank you for your observation, sergeant. It has been duly noted. What do you think of the interview?’
    ‘Sir?’ Jackson replied.
    ‘You listened to Michael Lafferty’s story, what do your well-honed investigative instincts pick out of his narrative?’ Wilson started walking back towards the street where their car was parked.
    Jackson’s face looked blank. ‘Nothing new, we already knew that the boys were fired upon from the top of the road, possibly by someone in a car. Am I missing something, sir?’
    ‘There were two bursts from a Sterling machine gun. Sixty-eight possible rounds fired and not one single bullet or spent cartridge collected. A blue saloon car disappears, and there’s no search record for the car in the file. Was a blue car found burned out anywhere close to the attack? That was the normal pattern for a UVF/UDA attack. Steal a car in some Loyalist area, kill a few Catholics and burn out the car. I’ve already concluded that the investigation was a shambles. What I really want to find out is, why was it such a shambles?’ He pulled out Jackson’s list from his coat pocket. There were four more names but only one of them was a Mallon. ‘Who is this Ciaran Mallon, Cormac’s father?’
    ‘Brother,’ Jackson answered. ‘The parents are dead.’
    ‘And the other three on the list?’
    ‘Players in the football game.’
    ‘What about the guys who were hit?’
    ‘One was hit in the spine and is a paraplegic. He moved to England, lives in some village close to Birmingham.  The other one hit was Mallon.’
    ‘Then let’s go see Ciaran Mallon.’ He looked at the address on the list. Mallon lived in Omagh in South Tyrone. Not exactly around the corner , he thought. It was about an hour’s journey by car from where they were standing to the centre of Omagh. He had no desire to spend an hour in the car with Jackson but he knew that if he insisted on travelling alone, Sinclair