In Dublin's Fair City (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #6)

“A lot of good you’d do, keeping watch.” Cullen managed a chuckle that turned to a cough. “Come and lie here beside me.”


“The last time a man said that to me, it brought me nothing but trouble,” I said, and he laughed.

“My dear, I promise you you’re quite safe. I am in no fit state to do anything more than sleep, although on any other occasion I must admit that you would not have been safe from my impulses.” He took my hand. “Come on, Molly. I’m cold and I’m hurting. I need your warmth beside me.”

He groaned again as he tried to lie down. I helped him to get comfortable then I lay beside him and put my arm over him. He did feel very cold. I suppose we must have drifted to sleep because when I awoke the moon was shining in through a high window. Cullen's breathing sounded ragged. I got up and tucked the cloak around him. He opened his eyes.

“Are you still in pain?” I asked.

He nodded. “It hurts like the devil to breathe.”

“If you come into the moonlight perhaps I can do something for you.”

He shook his head. “I don’t think there's anything you can do for me, except stay close to me. I need to feel you’re here.”

“I’m here,” I said. I lay back beside him, and wrapped my arm over him again. “It won’t be long now. We’ll get down to that boat, and then they’ll be able to remove that bullet and all will be fine.”

“Molly,” he said quietly, “I want you to listen to me. You’re to leave here as soon as it's light enough to see the way. When you look out toward the east you’ll see the little harbor down below. It's not used much any more, since they built the big port at Kingstown. Make your way straight down the hill to it. There will be a rowing boat with something green showing, a green hat or even a green handkerchief in the rower's pocket. He’ll ask you if you’d like a trip out to the island, and you’ll say yes. If he doesn’t ask, don’t go with him. It might be another trap. Hopefully our boat will have waited out the night on the far side of Dalkey Island.”

“Why are you telling me all this? We’ll be going together.”

“I’m not sure that I’ll make it,” he said quietly.

“Don’t be ridiculous, of course you’re going to make it.”

“I’ve lost a lot of blood, Molly. I’m awfully weak. And every breath feels as if I’m on fire.”

I bent toward him and rested my cheek against his. “Just hang on, Cullen. Not much longer. You can’t give up now, after all you’ve been through.”

“I know. A stupid waste, isn’t it? I had such grand ideas, Molly. Such splendid plans. An Irish Republic, ruling ourselves with dignity. Was that too much to ask?”

“Of course not. It will happen, Cullen.”

“I wish I could believe it.” He sighed. “The important thing now is that you save yourself. You’re young. You deserve a happy life.”

“I’m not going without you. I’ll get you on that horse somehow, and we’ll make it to the boat if it's the last thing I do.”

“Dear Molly,” he said, and lifted his hand to stroke my hair. “If things had been different—” He let the rest of the sentence hang. “That young man you have waiting for you at home...”

“Yes?”

“Treasure him, Molly. Don’t let him out of your sight. If only I’d been sensible and not given up all hope of happiness for this stupid dream—for nothing.”

“It wasn’t for nothing, Cullen. Even if this raid didn’t go as we planned, we’ve rattled them. And the Irish people will read of our boys being gunned down, and they’ll start thinking that maybe they should do something too. You’ll see. Small pebbles that start the landslide.”

He sighed again. “Almost morning, Molly. Look, the moon's going down.”

“Let me put a new dressing on that wound for you.” “And where would we find a new dressing?” “I’ve still got my blouse and my knickers.”

He gave a half cough, half laugh. “This must be the only time in my life that a girl has offered me her knickers and I haven’t taken her up on the offer.”

The laugh turned into a bout of coughing and I noticed the spittlethat ran down his chin was dark. He was coughing up blood. I wiped it away with my sleeve.

“Don’t try to talk any more. Save your strength for the ride. We should get going soon, don’t you think?”

He didn’t answer me.

I looked at him. His eyes were staring up at the ceiling, and I could no longer hear his breathing.