Free The Rage by Gene Kerrigan Page B

how smart they were, and the journalists kissed their arses. And in the end it was the smart fellas broke the country in pieces, without any help at all from the red brigades.’ There was no humour in his laugh.
    ‘They’ll figure something out,’ Tidey said.
    ‘They surely will. They always do.’
    James poured more Jameson, topping up his own glass to near the brim.
    ‘When’s the last time you arrested one of those bastards, and all they’ve done?’
    ‘Not lately.’
    ‘Not ever.’
    ‘Not unless I catch him, on live television – on the halfway line at Croke Park – fucking a chicken.’
    James smiled. ‘With the Artane Band standing behind him, playing “A Nation Once Again”.’
    ‘That would help.’
    James carefully raised the brimming glass to his lips. ‘Even then, the hard neck on those fellas – he’d claim the chicken led him on.’
    If she let another day end without doing something . . .
    Pushing thought aside, Maura Coady reached for the phone.
    ‘Yeah?’
    ‘Mr Tidey? It’s Maura, Maura Coady.’
    He said nothing and she felt a slight disappointment that he didn’t remember the name. But he was a policeman, and policemen must meet hundreds of people – and this was well over a year ago.
    ‘The Teresa O’Brien—’
    ‘Of course – Maura, it’s been a while.’
    He sounded tired, his words a little slurred.
    ‘There’s something, I’m not sure – when I say it, it doesn’t sound—’
    ‘What’s the problem?’
    ‘There’s a car, parked outside my house – I’ve wanted to call you for – look, I know it sounds silly, but they were wearing gloves, plastic gloves.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘The men. There were two of them.’
    ‘Look, Maura, I’m – it’s getting late, and I’m on my way home – it isn’t – look, I’ll give you a call first thing in the morning, OK?’
    ‘Of course, of course, it may be nothing.’
    ‘Good to hear from you – I ought to drop around, come see you.’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘First thing in the morning.’
    When Tidey came back from the toilet, James’s eyes were closed, his head back, his hand still holding his half-empty glass. Tidey took the glass away. He brought a blanket from the bedroom and draped it over the sleeping figure. Before he left he switched on the kitchen light, so James could get his bearings if he woke during the night. Then he switched off the main light and went in search of a taxi.

16
     
    Noel Naylor’s footsteps echoed in the stairwell. He was halfway towards Vincent’s squat on the fourth floor when he met Michelle Flood coming down.
    She smiled and grimaced. ‘Late for work.’
    ‘Need a lift?’
    ‘My car’s downstairs, thanks. Vincent’s in the shower.’
    Noel had coffee ready when Vincent emerged from the bathroom.
    ‘Met herself on the stairs – this is looking serious.’
    ‘Could be. She’s – you know—’ Vincent shrugged.
    ‘Good for you. Hope it works out. Meanwhile—’ Noel offered a folded piece of paper. Vincent opened it and saw a name and an address.
    ‘Thanks, but I don’t think so.’
    ‘If it was me—’
    ‘I broke his nose, he gave evidence against me, I went away for eight months – it balances out.’
    ‘He’s got it coming.’
    Vincent folded the piece of paper, left it on the kitchen counter. ‘You’re probably right, but these things – do you know Michelle’s brother, Damien?’
    ‘Not personally – I’ve heard of him.’
    ‘Their younger brother, Conor – he was done for shoplifting from an off-licence. Damien dropped in to see the shopkeeper, told him to withdraw the complaint. The shopkeeper told him to fuck off, so Damien put him on his back in Beaumont for two weeks. Michelle gave him an alibi, said he was with her that evening – but the cops had it on CCTV. When I went into the Joy, Damien was already there nearly two years. When I left, he still had a year to do.’
    ‘I see your point, but—’
    ‘The kid, Conor – he got probation for