Death at Christy Burke's Read Online Free Page B

I’m not mistaken.”
    “Another Father Burke,” Monty remarked. “That’s all we need, two of them tag-teaming us.”
    “Fear not. This is a Father Brennan, my mother’s side of the family.”
    “You’ve got both flanks covered.”
    “Can’t be too careful.”
    Kitty noticed the Irish Independent folded on the table and picked it up. “I’m going to be bringing death to the table now, I’m afraid. Is it safe to walk the streets of Ireland these days at all? You have to wonder. I hope somebody can tell me this is not the Rory Dignan I knew. It can’t be him if it happened in the North, surely. They’re a Dublin family. Northsiders like myself.”
    “It can’t be who? What’s this about Northsiders?” They looked up to see Finn Burke approaching the table.
    “Kitty, this is my uncle, Finn Burke. Finn, Sister Kitty Curran.”
    They greeted each other, then Finn joined them at the table.
    Kitty smoothed out the newspaper and read the article. “It says a funeral is to be held in Endastown tomorrow afternoon for Rory Dignan, one of three men shot by Loyalist paramilitaries last week. The shootings are widely believed to have been reprisal killings for the bombing of the factory in Dungannon two months ago.” She looked up. “The Rory Dignan I knew would no more take part in a bombing than I would take part in a game of strip poker.”
    “There goes your game plan for tonight, Michael.”
    “Brennan!”
    Monty chimed in, “I’ve seen Michael at poker, Kitty; you wouldn’t lose so much as a headband. Michael might want to layer on the garments, though. Or not . . .”
    “Monty!”
    “Don’t be blushing now, Michael,” Brennan chided him. “We were only slaggin’ yeh.”
    This was what Michael was going to have to endure, all because he had a friendship with someone who happened to be female! Just like two bratty younger brothers, when you thought about it, annoying and slagging him without mercy.
    “Pay them no mind, Michael,” Kitty urged. “If I had the power to hear confessions and dish out penance, Brennan Burke would not be up off his knees till the Second Coming of our Lord. And even then he’d have some explaining to do. Now, back to Rory Dignan. He wouldn’t be one of the Drumcondra Dignans now, would he? The lad used to come by the school where I taught, to walk his little sisters home. An angel of a boy. It wouldn’t be him.”
    “It would, unfortunately, Sister,” Finn replied. “His father landed a job in the North, so they went up there when young Rory was, what? Eighteen or so.”
    “And did he involve himself in the Troubles?”
    “Em, well, he made quite a name for himself up there. Well respected. In Republican circles, I suppose you’d say.”
    “Oh, Mary Mother of God. They’re burying little Rory Dignan. I remember him stopping to tie the shoe of one of the little girls at school. Then another girl saw the attention her friend was getting from this dashing young boy, and wouldn’t you know it, her shoe came untied too. In the end, Rory had a queue of little girls waiting for him. Didn’t mind at all. He tied every shoe and had a little joke or a remark for each of the children. Now,” she said, returning to the newspaper, “they’re saying it was a reprisal hit. Well, I’ve been wrong before and I may be wrong today, but I’d say they got the wrong man. I just can’t believe he’d have any part in a bombing.”
    “He didn’t.” Finn was no longer the smiling barman. His mouth was set in a hard line, his eyes invisible behind the dark shades. “It was murder, pure and simple. They wanted Dignan out of the way, and here was their chance.”
    “By ‘they,’ you’re referring to the UDA.”
    “What’s the UDA?” asked Monty.
    “Ulster Defence Association, a Protestant paramilitary group. And if that wasn’t enough, there are efforts afoot to stop the funeral.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “The funeral was supposed to take place yesterday. Family