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The Heather Blazing - 1
[ This chapter has been split into the original page breakup of the book,
and for that reason starts off at page three ]
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Eamon Redmond stood at the window looking down at the river which was deep
brown after days of rain. He watched the colour, the mixture of mud and water,
and the small currents and pockets of movement within the flow. It was a
Friday morning at the end of July; the traffic was heavy on the quays. Later,
when the court had finished its sitting he would come back again and look out
once more at the watery grey light over the houses across the river and wait
for the stillness, when the cars and lorries had disappeared and Dublin was
quiet.
He relished that walk through the Four Courts when the building was almost
closed and everyone had gone and his car was the last in the judges' car park,
that walk along the top corridor and down the centre stairway; old stone, old
wood, old echoes. He loved the privacy of it; his solitary presence in the
vast public building whose function was over and done with for the day.
Years back he would stop for a moment, as he had been instructed to do, and
examine his car before he opened the door. Even though the car park was
guarded, it would still be easy to pack explosives underneath; often as he
turned the ignition he was conscious that in one second the whole car could
go, a ball of flame. He laughed to himself at the phrase as he stood at the
window. A ball of flame. Now things were safer; things were calm in the south.
He went over to his desk and sifted through his papers to make sure that
everything was in order for the court. He
3.
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