“Looks like I’m not the only one,” Earnshaw said, nodding his head toward the steps. Looking fairly respectable in dark trousers, shirt, white collar, and what looked like a hand-knitted sweater with a small hole at the collar, strode Father Patrick.

“Looking sharp, Father Pat,” Kieran said straight-faced.

“Thank you, Kieran. I think this jumper really brings out my eyes.”

The jumper was beige. I really had no idea whether he was being serious or not.

“Not that I don’t appreciate it. But why are you here as well, Father?” I asked him and he turned to Danny to explain.

“You ever lose your temper in front of Father Pat?” Danny asked.

“No,” I responded.

“Then that’s why,” he explained, lighting up another cigarette only minutes after putting out the last one.

“Jesus, I don’t need feckin’ babysitters, Danny,” I scoffed.

“Can we leave Jesus out of this, son? I have a feeling we’ll need him on our side later,” Father Pat reprimanded.

“Sorry, Father,” I apologized.

“You ever seen Frank?” Danny asked.

“No. You know I haven’t,” I replied grinding my teeth.

“When you do see that smug, slimy bastard, you’re gonna want to vault over the barriers and smash his nose into the back of his skull. I know ’cause I’ve been feelin’ that way since I first saw him. Now I’m old enough and wise enough to know my hip would give out long before I ever made that barrier and that destroying his face might feel good but it ain’t what Em needs right now.”

“And you don’t think I’ve got it in me to keep my temper in check in a courtroom, especially for something this important?”

“No, I don’t. I just said that, didn’t I? You’re young and impetuous, and the idea of anyone hurting your girl is gonna twist you up. When that red mist descends, you won’t see nothing but him and the great deal of space between his face and your fist. So to be on the safe side, I’m gonna stand one side of you and Father Pat will be on the other. Kieran, Heath, and Liam will be the human shield in front of you.”

“Gee thanks,” Earnshaw said, and Danny frowned at him.

“One in, all in,” Danny explained to him.

“Let’s get this show on the road then,” Kieran told them, and we all headed into court.

“I still think this is overkill,” I grumbled.

“Well, feckin’ deal with it,” he answered, putting out his cigarette at the last possible moment.

We were shown to seats in the viewing gallery by the court clerk who eyeballed me like a troublemaker he needed to keep his eye on. The judge came out of his anteroom and sat down just as Frank was brought up from the cells. The bastard was dressed sharply in a dark suit, and his newly cut hair was styled neatly back. If there was any fucking justice in the world, he’d come up from the cells looking like he’d been run over.

As the judge was getting settled, Frank turned and caught my eye. This guy knew exactly who I was. With a sick smirk, he lifted his cuffed hand and waved. Just long enough for me to see Em’s tiny wedding ring glittering from his pinkie finger.

Chapter 17

“Motherfucker,” I muttered.

“What is it?” Kieran whispered, turning around to face me.

“Pinkie finger, left hand. He’s wearing Em’s wedding ring.”

“He’s got to be working with someone. He wasn’t arrested with it, so someone’s brought it to him.”

“Look, there’s nothing we can do about that now, so let’s just see how this pans out,” Danny said quietly. I caught eyes with Frank and stared intently. I wasn’t taking any shit from this prick, so I gave him the same look I gave every opponent. The one that told them, without apology, that they were going down. It was the price you paid for going toe to toe with me. It was the price anyone paid for wronging my wife.

After a bit of preamble, Em’s mum was called as a witness. Unlike the woman who first turned up at the cafe to see Em, she’d cleaned herself up. Her newly cut and colored hair sat in a bob around her chin, and she wore a dark suit with a cream blouse and a small gold cross. Nice touch that. Made her seem like a smart, respectable God-fearing woman. She sat down and placed her hands neatly on her lap. After a quiet word from the court clerk, she was sworn in, and when she was done looked straight at Frank. That’s when I knew exactly how this was going to go down. If she was going to do the right thing and give evidence against Frank, she would have avoided his gaze. Losing evidence from the rape kit had killed this case but Em’s mum was about to drive the nails into the coffin.

“So, Mrs. Thomas, I understand that prior to the incident in question, Emily lived at home with you and Mr. Thomas.”

“That’s right,” she answered quietly.

“For how long prior to the incident had Mr. Thomas been living with you?” The lawyer questioned. “And in what capacity?”

“I lost my first husband eight years ago in a car accident. Mr. Thomas helped me through that grieving process, and he moved in about six months later. I’m sorry to say that I wasn’t a good mother at that time but Mr. Thomas helped me raise my daughter, Emily.”

“When Mr. Thomas was, as you say, helping you through the grief of losing your husband, did he at any time offer you any drugs or pills to assist you in dealing with your grief and depression?” She listened to the barrister’s question then looked first at me and then toward Frank. “No,” she said quietly.

“Let me be clear, are you saying that he never offered you as much as a paracetamol?”

“That’s right,” she said again, much too quickly.

“I see. And at any point during your relationship did that change?”

“No,” she answered and didn’t embellish any further. The barrister, seeing that this wasn’t going anywhere, changed tack.

“How would you describe yourself or your behavior during those early periods of grief and depression?” he asked her.

“I don’t remember it in much detail. I do know that there were some days when the pain of grief was so crippling, it felt like waking up with someone sitting on your chest. I’d wake up and forget that my husband was dead, and when I’d remember, I’d have full-blown panic attacks.” The way she described herself left me in no doubt that she was being honest. It was probably the only piece of truth there was to this bitch’s story.