Page 29 of Black Dog

“Okay?”

“I need you to do somethin’.”

“What?”

“I need you to get Dol, put him in my car and bring him here.”

“And you want me to do that without Mum knowin’?”

“You catch on quick.”

“Slight problem with that. First, I do no’ have a license to drive. Second, Dol is in the house. Sittin’ right next to Mum.”

“FOR THE EVER-FUCKIN’ LOVE OF GREAT PADDY AND ALL HIS KIN CAN I NO’ CATCH A FUCKIN’ BREAK!?!”

“Hold on. I’ll make up somethin’ about thinkin’ ‘tis best to return Dol to the kennel before it gets any later.”

Feeling slightly calmer, Ram said, “Aye. Good thinkin’. Regardin’ the drivin’. You’re the fuckin’ king of Ireland. You do no’ need a license to drive your own roads. But you better get here safely. And dress warm. ‘Tis cold tonight.”

“Is Blackie okay?”

“He killed a Rotty and broke free. He’s hurt, but alive. Goin’ cross-country.”

“On my way.”

“Bring that blanket so Dol knows who he’s lookin’ for. And take the Tesla so your mum won’t hear you leave.”

Blackie had run like the devil was after him, which made it hard for the blood in his wound to coagulate. It kept breaking open. But he stopped running when he topped a slight rise a quarter mile from the scene of the dog fight. He looked over his shoulder.

No one was following. He was free.

He was heading northeast. Somehow his inner compass knew it was the right way. But it was dark. Not even a clear sky with a waxing moon. Just cold black night.

His body demanded he slow down. He’d lost blood and was limping on the side where he was injured. When he came to the first stone sheep fence, at a height he could normally clear without much effort, he was forced to find a way around. That would happen again and again and again, but there was no obstacle this side of death that would stop him.

Storm and Ram watched as the authorities arrested Jack Doyle, Charlie Sweeney, and eight other ‘associates’.

Moran had received a tip from an informant. He was not on the premises and had carefully structured his business so that deniability was always plausible. The next day he would have someone bail his employees out. He’d pay fines, perhaps allow less crucial employees to do a little jail time, but the main thing was that he’d be back in business within two weeks.

Helm arrived around eleven o’clock and handed the keys to the car to his father. “Okay. See you later.”

“What do you mean ‘see you later’?” Ram said.

“I’m trackin’ Blackie with this dog here,” Helm said as if it was obvious.

“Hold on. Who said you were doin’ any such thing? I’m trackin’ the dog. You’re goin’ in the car with Storm.” To Storm Ram said, “Turn on your 360 and I’ll turn on mine so you’ll know where I am.”

Storm nodded and pulled out his phone.

When Ram reached for Dol’s leash, Helm pulled it back. “Da. Look at me. I dressed for this. You did no’. E’en so, when was the last time you ran twenty-eight miles?”

Ram blinked a few times. “Has been a while, but does no’ mean I can no’ do it.”

“Okay. But IknowI can do it.”

“Helm, I’m proud as can be that you’re offerin’, but ‘tis black as pitch out tonight. A lot can happen goin’ cross country in the dark.”

“I’ll turn on my 360.”

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