Free The Scrapper by Brendan O'Carroll Page B

the rim of his glass. Then he placed his glass on the bar and smacked his lips. ‘Thank you. And you’re welcome to Snuggstown –
my
town!’ Simon smiled.
    Fintan smiled back. ‘How’s the drink – all right?’
    Simon stared at him and waited a couple of seconds before answering. ‘It’s fine. In fact it’s quite nice.’
    ‘Then, perhaps you might pay for it!’ Fintan said this without changing the smile on his face.
    Teddy now became aggressive. ‘This is Simon Williams. Mr Williams pays for nothin’ in Snuggstown, never mind four poxy drinks.’
    Although Teddy’s voice was angry, Fintan didn’t take his eyes off Simon. With an incredibly swift movement he picked up the four glasses and put them down behind the counter. He then simply walked away. As he did, he said over his shoulder, ‘Good night now, gentlemen. And Merry Christmas!’
    Teddy was speechless. Simon placed a restraining hand on him. Simon stared at the back of Fintan who was back at the CD machine finishing his selection.
    ‘Easy, Teddy boy! Not here. Not now!’ Simon muttered.
    The door of the lounge opened and Sparrow and Bubbles came in. They were laughing. Sparrow immediately took in the Mexican stand-off, and his laugh stopped. ‘Oh fuck,’ he gasped under his breath. ‘Shit!’
    Simon addressed himself to the young barman. ‘PJ – PJ Duff, isn’t it?’
    The young man looked up from his coffee and nodded slowly.
    ‘Give me up those drinks, like a good man,’ Simon ordered.
    PJ glanced over his shoulder at Fintan. Fintan did not turn around but his broad Northern Ireland accent boomed out, ‘Stay where you are, son. Drink your coffee.’
    ‘Come on, son, you don’t want to listen to that shit. Do the right thing, son,’ Simon ordered again.
    PJ wanted to simply burst into tears. He felt like a rope in a tug-of-war. ‘Ah Jaysus, Mr Williams. I only work here,’ he implored.
    ‘Not for fuckin’ long, yeh little bollix.’ Teddy was glaring at PJ now.
    Simon slid off the stool and slowly walked the ten or so paces to where Fintan was standing with his back to the group. Simon addressed the man’s back. When he spoke his voice was calm – but you’d know it was a voice that meant business. ‘I’ll be back, pal. Be fuckin’ assured, I’ll be back!’
    Fintan pressed the final button on his CD machine selection, and just before the jaunty Christmas music blared out he turned to face Simon. ‘Good,’ he said, ‘next time bring money.’
    The two men again stared at each other for some seconds, then Simon turned and walked out, followed by Angie and Teddy.
    Angie, disappointed that there wasn’t going to be a bust up, was goading Simon. ‘The cheeky bastard, norespect – who does he think he is?’ She stopped at the doorway, turned and screamed at Fintan. ‘Stick your drink up your arse!’ and left haughtily.

CHAPTER NINE
Thursday, 12 December
Snuggstown Police Station, 9.25am
    Kieran Clancy had not expected a brass band and party balloons to greet him on his arrival at Snuggstown police station to take over as the new head of the Serious Crime Squad. But he had expected to be greeted in a civil manner. Instead, when he presented himself at the reception desk in the station he was met coldly by a ruddy-faced, country sergeant, who needed either to diet or change the size of his uniform. This was Sergeant Toddy Muldoon. After fifteen years in Snuggstown, Muldoon had things very much his own way. He liked to gamble and was a drinker. Still, this did not affect his standard of living, which was surprisingly high. Few knew how he managed this on a sergeant’s salary, and those who did know were not saying. Kieran introduced himself as the new head of the Serious Crime Squad and asked where his office was. He expected to get more than the jerk of a thumb and a simple two-word reply: ‘Down there.’
    The Sergeant looked him up and down, then turnedback to his desk. Following the direction of the Sergeant’s