‘To examine the knickers in Switzers.’‘No, it’s not,’ Duggan said. ‘You’re more experienced at that.’‘Ah come on,’ Gifford groaned. ‘Let me stick with Eliza. The only remaining pleasure in my life.’‘What? Has she ditched you?‘Who?’‘Sinéad.’Gifford gave him a look. ‘Are you thick or just pretending to be thick?’‘I’m tired,’ Duggan said. The few hours’ sleep had left his brain feeling mushy. He’d have been better off staying up all night.‘Another great night’s work,’ Gifford laughed.‘You heard all about it?’‘Our lads were delighted, almost. Thought you so-called intelligence men had really fucked up.’ ‘But we were saved at the last minute.’‘So I heard,’ Gifford said with an air of regret. ‘Your friend Sullivan won’t be court-martialled after all.’They crossed into Clare Street. Ahead of them Harbusch and Eliza were approaching South Leinster Street at their normal stately pace, she tottering on her high heels, linking him.
