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By Root 805 0

out for the two voices. The horse seemed placated and shook its head a few times, neighing without much animosity. In spite of its size, however, the small dog was a determined, muscular creature and squirmed almost uncontrollably in his vice-like grip. At one point, Pyke lost control of the dog’s mouth and it issued forth a terrorised yap, though the sound was perhaps not loud enough to alert the two stable hands, who had come to a stop in the middle of the courtyard. Still, Pyke could no longer risk being exposed and made his decision. Holding the dog’s snarling jaws tightly shut with one hand, he took the animal’s neck with the other, clamping its body with his shoulders, and squeezed it as hard as he could. The little dog fought him in unadulterated terror for what seemed like minutes, squirming in his arms, but Pyke’s hold on its neck did not relent and finally, with a sickening gurgle that seemed to emanate from the pit of the poor dog’s stomach, its taut frame went limp and the struggle was over.

It was only then that the voices from outside began to recede into the distance. A little shocked, Pyke laid the dead animal on the ground and covered it in straw. It had defecated on him: a hopeless final act before dying.

Later, once Pyke had led the now amenable black horse from the stables and mounted it, using moonlight to guide his boots into the stirrups, he took a few moments to arrange himself in the saddle, and then kicked the heels of his boots into the horse’s midriff and steadied himself as the beast surged forward, carrying him into the darkness of the marquess’s estate.

He’d liked that little dog, Pyke thought without joy, as he took up the reins and steered the horse away from the main house.

SEVENTEEN

Though the sun had been up for almost three hours, the air was still cool - it smelt of burning wood and freshly cut hay - and the dew-covered ground shimmered like a dazzling carpet of precious cut stones. It was attractive country, Pyke thought, as he looked down on the tiny hamlet from his vantage point on ground that rose gently up from the Blackwater river. In one direction, four miles away through estate land and orchards and beyond sporadic dwellings linked by hedge-lined tracks, was the village of Loughgall. In the other direction, the hills fell away gradually towards an expansive lough. The small valley below him was dotted with beech, ash and sycamore trees.

He had ridden for three hours the previous night, stopping to rest only when the terrain had become too marshy to negotiate in the fading moonlight. Sleeping fitfully on the floor of an abandoned cottage, Pyke had resumed his journey at first light and it had taken him a further two hours of hard riding to reach Loughgall, and from there, following directions given to him by a passing farmer, another hour to find the hamlet where the Magennis family lived.

The hamlet itself, straddling a junction between two tracks, consisted of seven mud-walled cottages roofed with straw thatches. From what he had been told by the farmer, the Magennis family occupied the farthest dwelling from the crossroads. In the centre of the hamlet was old Dan Winters’ pub. The farmer had said this as though he would know exactly who ‘old Dan Winters’ was.

Tying the horse to a tree on the slopes above the hamlet, Pyke made his way down the hill, using cover from the oak and beech trees to keep himself hidden, until he was less than fifty yards from the Magennis cottage. From there, concealed behind a hawthorn bush, he spent the next hour watching the various comings and goings. Shortly after settling, he witnessed an adolescent dressed in labourers’ clothes emerge from the cottage and disappear along the track heading east out of the hamlet. Later, he was followed by a slightly older girl. Pyke had watched with interest when a much older man, wearing a cotton shirt tucked into coarse trousers, appeared in the doorway, stretched, looked around him and then disappeared back inside the cottage.

In that time, Pyke did not see any indication of Davy Magennis’s