Lingard145

137

somehow."

"It's not me that’s excited. And when I find out what I'm supposed
to be in then we can talk about getting out of it."

Kevin went down to the front room. Three soldiers stood there
looking large in the small space. A box laid^{was lying} on the table: it was
the box that had been under Brian Rafferty's bed. Kevin half closed
his eyes.

"You recognise it, I see?" said the officer.

"You recognise^see nothing of the kind," said Mr McCoy.

"I'd prefer to speak to your son, Mr McCoy." The officer looked
at Kevin. "Do you know what's in this box?"

Kevin swallowed. "No."

The officer flipped it open so that they could see the gun and
ammunition.

"You didn't find that in this house," said Mr McCoy. "And you're
not going to get away with pretending that you did."

"I haven't said that." The officer was keeping his eyes on Kevin's
face. "We found it in Malone^Kelly's scrapyard."

"And what's that to do with us?" demanded Mr McCoy.

"Your son works there."

"He hasn't been at work this past two weeks. He got beat up by a
gang of thugs. Look at him!"

"But you've got a key to the yard, haven't you?" the officer
asked Kevin.

"Yes."