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

As if on cue at the end of this speech, there was a terrific explosion. I was hurled backward as dust and debris came flying at me. It felt as if all the air was being sucked from my lungs and the sound was so loud that my head was ringing. I think I struck the wall. Anyway, I found myself lying on my back with dust and debris all over me. I picked myself up and staggered to my feet. Smoke and dust and a horrible acrid smell made it hard to see and harder to breathe. There were shouts and groans and the sound of running feet on stone. The inspector from the ship was staggering to his feet, clutching a bleeding head. It looked as if a part of the wall had collapsed on us. I couldn’t even see Inspector Harris. But I could see Joseph. He was just standing there, his mouth open in horror.

The inspector let go of his bleeding head and tried to make a grab for me. I darted away, looking around frantically for our lads, so that I could hand over the keys. But nobody appeared. I could feel cold air blowing in through what had been the door, sending the smoke and dust swirling.

“Run, Joe. Get away while you can,” I shouted, then plunged myself in the direction of the doorway. Ahead of me was chaos. Police whistles blowing, shouts, screams, and then shots fired. Running feet caught up with me. I decided to take a terrible chance as a warder reached me.

“Oh, Officer, I’m so glad to see you,” I gasped, grabbing at his arm.“I was here on a visit and then there was this terrible explosion. What is it? A gas main?”

“No, miss. I think that some idiots are trying to blow up the building. Here, take my arm. I’ll get you safely out, don’t you worry.”

He led me toward the door with infuriating slowness. The smoke and dust were so thick, it was impossible to see what lay ahead. We stepped over some chunks of rubble, and I saw something on the floor in front of me. For a moment I couldn’t think what it was until I realized it was an arm. I swallowed back bile that rose in my throat. The stench of burning was overpowering. It stung my nostrils and made my eyes water. I tried to breathe and started coughing. All around there was coughing and retching and groaning too. Men staggered past us, not seeming to notice me. I recoiled in horror as I came to what used to be the doorway. Jagged shards of wood hung suspended in space. Rubble was piled high, and among that rubble were bodies. I could see that some of them were wearing uniforms but not all. I wanted to look at faces, but couldn’t. If Liam was lying at the bottom of that pile, or Cullen, then I didn’t want to know.

“Thank you, Officer,” I managed to gasp. “I can get out now. Just let me get away from here. Most grateful to you.”

He must have been as much in shock as I was. I slid my arm from his and grabbed the jagged edge of what used to be the door frame, stepped cautiously over bodies and rubble, and was outside. The sun was setting, glowing red through the dusty haze, and a mist had come up from the river, curling low along the street. A crowd was already gathering. I looked around. There was no sign of the cart and horses, no sign of Liam or Joseph or Cullen or anyone I could recognize. But there were plenty of blue uniforms milling around in confusion.

Then someone yelled and I saw a figure running across the street. A shot rang out. The figure went sprawling, staggered to his feet and kept on running. Men in blue uniforms gave chase. More shots were fired. There were screams of alarm from the crowd. I took the opportunity to merge with a group of women, pulling my hood up over my head. Gradually I eased my way to the edge of the crowd.

Then there was a barked command, the tramp of marching feet and a platoon of the Iniskilling Dragoons, stationed just across the road,came out of their barracks at a trot, bayonets at the ready. I darted across the street ahead of them. When they were between me and the jail, I turned and fled into the mist.

I was running down a wide street, tree lined, elegant, but it wasn’t the street that led into the Liberties. In fact, I had no idea where it led. In contrast to the other streets, it was deserted. The shape of a big building loomed ahead of me. From what I could see in the growing darkness it had that same elegant Georgian design as the Four Courts, and I had a moment's panic that it might be some kind of government headquarters into which I was now blundering. I thought I heard running feet and shouts behind me, and I steeled myself for a shot in the back. I glanced to either side of me. On the riverside mist hovered over a stretch of open ground. Not a good place to seek cover. The other side of the street was bordered by a high wall. The running feet were definitely gaining on me, and I was finding it hard to breathe. When I found an opening in the wall I ran through it, not even stopping to think what I might find.