Though The Heavens Fall

Anne Emery

Description

As 1995 dawns in the North of Ireland, Belfast is a city of army patrols, bombed-out buildings, and peace walls segregating one community from the other. But the IRA has called a ceasefire. So, it s as good a time as any for Monty Collins and Father Brennan Burke to visit the city: Monty to do a short gig in a law firm, and Brennan to reconnect with family. And it s a good time for Brennan s cousin Ronan to lay down arms and campaign for election in a future peacetime government.But the past is never past in Belfast, and it rises up to haunt them all: a man goes off a bridge on a dark, lonely road; a rogue IRA enforcer is shot; and a series of car bombs remains an unsolved crime. The trouble is compounded by a breakdown in communication: Brennan knows nothing about the secrets in a file on Monty s desk. And Monty has no idea what lies behind a late-night warning from the IRA. With a smoking gun at the center of it all, Brennan and Monty are on a collision course and will l

Informations

• Publié par: Ecw Press
• Date de parution: 16 octobre 2018
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781773052359
• Langue: English

Extrait

Though the Heavens Fall
A Mystery
Anne Emery



Contents Praise for Anne Emery The Collins-Burke Mystery Series Introduction Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X Chapter XI Chapter XII Chapter XIII Chapter XIV Chapter XV Chapter XVI Chapter XVII Chapter XVIII Chapter XIX Chapter XX Chapter XXI Chapter XXII Chapter XXIII Chapter XXIV Chapter XXV Chapter XXVI Chapter XXVII Chapter XXVIII Chapter XXIX Chapter XXX Chapter XXXI Chapter XXXII Chapter XXXIII Chapter XXXIV Chapter XXXV Chapter XXXVI Epilogue About the Author Copyright


Praise for Anne Emery
Praise for Lament for Bonnie
“You know you are in the thick of a good mystery novel when you start becoming suspicious of characters you consider shady in the parking lot of your very own town. Anne Emery’s latest, Lament for Bonnie , will leave readers spooked and wary of their surroundings.”
— Atlantic Books Today
“ Lament for Bonnie is a good mystery in this entertaining series set in eastern Canada.”
— Glenn Perrett, All Things Entertainment
“The author’s ability to say more with less invites readers along for the dark ride, and the island’s Celtic culture serves as a stage to both the story’s soaring narrative arc and a quirky cast of characters, providing a glimpse into the Atlantic Canadian communities settled by Scots over two hundred years ago.”
— Celtic Life
“The novel is ingeniously plotted.”
— Reviewing the Evidence
Praise for Ruined Abbey
“The eighth in the series, this winning mystery stands on its own . . . fans of Emery’s earlier works will enjoy seeing Father Brennan in the bosom of his feisty Irish family.”
— Booklist , starred review
“True to the Irish tradition of great storytelling, this is a mesmerizing tale full of twists that will keep readers riveted from the first page to the last.”
— Publishers Weekly , starred review
“This is a really tightly plotted historical with solid characters and the elegant style we expect from Emery.”
— Globe and Mail
“Suspenseful to the final page.”
— Winnipeg Free Press
Praise for Blood on a Saint
“As intelligent as it is entertaining . . . The writing bustles with energy, and with smart, wry dialogue and astute observations about crime and religion.”
— Ellery Queen
“Emery skilfully blends homicide with wit, music, theology, and quirky characters.”
— Kirkus Reviews
Praise for Death at Christy Burke’s
“Emery’s sixth mystery (after 2010’s Children in the Morning ) makes excellent use of its early 1990s Dublin setting and the period’s endemic violence between Protestants and Catholics.”
— Publishers Weekly , starred review
“Halifax lawyer Anne Emery’s terrific series featuring lawyer Monty Collins and priest Brennan Burke gets better with every book.”
— Globe and Mail
Praise for Children in the Morning
“This [fifth] Monty Collins book by Halifax lawyer Emery is the best of the series. It has a solid plot, good characters, and a very strange child who has visions.”
— Globe and Mail
“Not since Robert K. Tanenbaum’s Lucy Karp, a young woman who talks with saints, have we seen a more poignant rendering of a female child with unusual powers.”
— Library Journal
Praise for Cecilian Vespers
“Slick, smart, and populated with lively characters.”
— Globe and Mail
“This remarkable mystery is flawlessly composed, intricately plotted, and will have readers hooked to the very last page.”
— The Chronicle Herald
Praise for Barrington Street Blues
“Anne Emery has given readers so much to feast upon . . . The core of characters, common to all three of her novels, has become almost as important to the reader as the plots. She is becoming known for her complexity and subtlety in her story construction.”
— The Chronicle Herald
Praise for Obit
“Emery tops her vivid story of past political intrigue that could destroy the present with a surprising conclusion.”
— Publishers Weekly
“Strong characters and a vivid depiction of Irish American family life make Emery’s second mystery as outstanding as her first.”
— Library Journal , starred review
Praise for Sign of the Cross
“A complex, multilayered mystery that goes far beyond what you’d expect from a first-time novelist.”
— Quill & Quire
“Snappy dialogue, a terrific feel for Halifax, characters you really do care about, and a great plot make this one a keeper.”
— Waterloo Region Record
“Anne Emery has produced a stunning first novel that is at once a mystery, a thriller, and a love story. Sign of the Cros s is well written, exciting, and unforgettable.”
— The Chronicle Herald


The Collins-Burke Mystery Series Sign of the Cross Obit Barrington Street Blues Cecilian Vespers Children in the Morning Death at Christy Burke’s Blood on a Saint Ruined Abbey Lament for Bonnie Though the Heavens Fall Postmark Berlin


Introduction
“Counsellors, I give you the Four Courts.”
That was Father Brennan Burke, giving his two friends a little tour of Dublin, his hometown. The two friends were lawyers: Monty Collins and his wife, Maura MacNeil. They stood on the south side of the River Liffey, gazing across the shining waters at a magnificent neoclassical building on the other side. It had a row of Corinthian columns along the front under a triangular pediment. The building was crowned with a circle of columns in the middle, topped by a dome.
Maura threw up her hands and turned away. “I can’t live up to that. I rest my case before I even get started.”
“Maybe this will bring you back down to earth. Or even below it. Many years ago there was a warren of alleys and passages along there, close to the courts. One of the lanes was so dark and obscure, it became known as Hell. ‘Apartments in Hell’ were advertised in the newspapers as ‘suitable for lawyers.’”
“I am humbled,” Maura averred.
Then they crossed the O’Donovan Rossa Bridge to Inns Quay, admired the Four Courts again from close up, and Monty and Maura followed Brennan around the back of the building to Chancery Street, where he directed their attention to another part of the complex. They looked up; this building too had a triangular pediment. On it was inscribed the words fiat jvstitia rvat cœlvm . In modern letters, fiat justitia ruat caelum . They all gazed in silence at the ringing proclamation. Monty felt the urge to genuflect before it.
Let justice be done though the heavens fall.


Chapter I
Monty Collins
It was Tuesday, January 24, 1995, and Monty Collins was on assignment in Belfast. He was defending a lawsuit filed against a Canadian-owned company that had a large farm equipment factory on the outskirts of the city, and he had secured a temporary placement with a Belfast law firm by the name of Ellison Whiteside. Monty’s office was in the city centre near Queen’s Square, with a window looking out on the Gothic-style Albert Memorial Clock, which stood over one hundred feet high in the square. He did some paperwork on the farm equipment file and conferred with a couple of local clients, then left the office for lunch in the company of two fellow lawyers from Ellison Whiteside. It was their habit, and would now be his, to head over to McHughs bar, no apostrophe, for a pint and a bite to eat. Wisely, his companions had brought umbrellas for the short walk in the cold winter rain; Monty turned up the collar of his jacket and kept his head down till they reached the bar. They got the last vacant table and ordered soup, sandwiches, and pints of Guinness. It was apparent that the pub regulars had got an early start to the day. Two old fellows were having a row over the leek and potato soup, specifically about what leeks were and where they were grown.
“They’re in the same family as onions. And garlic.”
“In yer hole, they are! Where are we, Ireland or Italy?”
“You’re not even in Ireland!” someone declared from the bar.
“Those are fightin’ words, Charley. Every inch of land on this island is Ireland, and every blade of grass growin’ on it.”
“And every leek!” another guy chimed in. “And they’re green and white. Not a patch of orange on them at all.”
Soup grew cold but pints were consumed before their ideal temperature altered for the worst.
Monty enjoyed a few laughs with his colleagues until they departed for a meeting. He sat and finished his meal. When he was about to get up, he saw a man slide off his barstool and come towards him. He had a wild crop of white hair and stubble on his face, and he appeared to be in his late seventies.
“Those fellas with you were from Ellison Whiteside, am I right, sir?”
“That’s right.”
“You’re new here.”
“Yes, I am.”
“What part of America are you from?”
Monty and other Canadians got that all the time. Everyone assumed they were from the United States. A very few people could discern a Canadian accent, often making the comment that it was softer than the American. Maura was recently told that hers was “sweeter.” No surprise there, Monty supposed; Cape Breton speech often sounded like a mix of Scottish and Irish. He addressed the man in McHughs and said, “I’m from Canada.”
“Oh, I beg your pardon. My mistake. No offence intended.”
“None taken.” And if offence had been taken, Monty was too much the polite Canadian to say so.
The man lowered his voice then. “You’re a solicitor with Ellison’s?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, I have a matter I’d like to discuss with you. A high