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something,’ Jimmy said.
    â€˜It’s Moore’s friend,’ Sarah said. ‘It’s Fowles!’
    Jimmy looked at her, his mouth pursed tight. He tookher arm again. ‘Are you sure?’
    â€˜Of course I am!’ Sarah said.
    â€˜Right,’ Jimmy said. His voice had a decisiveness that reminded her of Da’s. ‘Home,’ he said. ‘We have to tell Da. We’ll take a tram. Walk as fast as you can, but don’t run.’
    Then he set off at a pace Sarah could hardly keep up with. She was in a daze. She kept thinking of that pumping spray of blood. It was like water in a fountain. This was violent death. This was the reality behind the newspaper reports of Volunteer attacks which she’d always cheered. Her own body felt suddenly frail. Was that all humans were – were they so easily damaged? She thought of the cold face of Fowles. Then the memory of another cold face came into her mind, a face she’d seen lately looking happy. She stopped walking. Jimmy turned to her impatiently.
    â€˜What’s wrong now?’ he demanded.
    â€˜Hugh Byrne!’ she said.
    â€˜What about him?’
    â€˜Don’t you see? That big smile he had when we saw him! It was him shot that detective. It must have been!’
    But it seemed the same thought had struck Jimmy already . ‘And?’ he asked.
    â€˜And I never seen Byrne look so happy …’ Sarah wasn’t even sure what she was trying to say. ‘Do you think … maybe he likes killing people?’
    â€˜It wouldn’t surprise me.’
    â€˜But don’t you think that’s a bit … a bit queer?’
    Jimmy grabbed her arm again. ‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I do. Now come on, quick.’
    There were Tans watching the passengers getting on the tram, but they paid little attention to the boy and the little girl. Jimmy led Sarah upstairs to the open top floor. From there they could see over to the scene of the shooting . There were more Tans there now, and Auxies and soldiers, and an ambulance was coming down Henry Street; but there was no sign of Fowles.
    â€˜Are you certain it was him?’ Jimmy asked. ‘That man Fowles?’
    â€˜Certain.’
    â€˜Right. That’s that, then.’
    â€˜That’s what?’
    Jimmy shook his head. ‘That’s the cat among the pigeons ,’ he said.
    â€˜So he’s a policeman or something,’ Sarah said. ‘It still might be only a coincidence that he moved in beside us. Mightn’t it?’
    Her own words sounded foolish in her ears. Jimmy said nothing. Sarah realised that it didn’t matter one way or another: Da would have to assume that Moore and Fowles were watching him. He’d be mad to think anything else.
    The bell rang and the tram set off. Both of them sat in silence. Sarah could feel Jimmy stiff with tension beside her. She didn’t know what to think herself. As the tram crossed the Liffey her eyes fell on the people walking across Carlisle Bridge. They walked along, alone, in couples or in groups. You wouldn’t think a man had just had his life snuffed out casually, like a candle, only a few dozen yards away. One figure caught her eye, a slim man wearing a cap and walking along as though he hadn’t a care, his hands deep in the pockets of his long overcoat. She was sure it was Hugh Byrne. Then the tram was in Westmoreland Street, and when Sarah looked back the figure was lost in the crowd, just one more young man walking.

11
  I MPATIENCE  
    JOSIE SAT KNITTING IN THE CORNER , looking up now and then at her sister. Sarah was lying on the bed trying to read, but it wasn’t working. The low murmur of voices from downstairs worked its way up through the house, distracting her. Finally she threw down the magazine and jumped up.
    â€˜They’ve no right to keep us up here,’ she said. ‘This is our business too.’
    Josie looked levelly at her, but said