Lingard146

138

W "So t what does that prove?" said Mr McCoy.

"Nothing," said Uncle Albert. "Not a blinking thing. Sure ould
Malone^Kelly must have half a dozen keys to his yard."

"Half the time the place isn't locked anyway," said Mr McCoy.
"Anyone could shin over the wall even if it was."

Kevin said nothing. He felt as if his lips were frozen, as if he
were caught up in a nightmare in which he found that he was unable to
speak. Found guilty by his silence.

"We have reason to believe that your son hid this box in the scrap-
yard, Mr McCoy," said the officer.

"Reason? You'd believe anything it'd suit you to believe."

"What have you to say?" the officer asked Kevin.

Kevin moistened his lips. "I know nothing about it."

"You were seen taking the box into the yard."

"Seen?" Kevin found his voice w e coming back with a surge of anger.
"By whom?"

"We will discuss that at the police station^barracks. I think it would be
better. But we do have a witness."

"A wi^tness?" said Brede.

The quitetness of her voice made the soldier pause.

"I think we have a right to know k who it is," aid Mr McCoy.

"It might be better not. We don't want reprisals of or anything
like that."

"It wouldn't be Kate Malone^Kelly, would it?" asked Brede.

The officer started.