One Night in Paris

by Kate Sweeney

  “Drat,” Annabel said. “So what are they?”

  “I believe these rows of numbers are dates,” Maureen said.

  “We eat in an hour,” Trevor announced, taking his place around the counter.

  “How do you figure?” Michael asked.

  “Figure what?” Trevor took a drink of wine and moaned happily. “Good choice.”

  “Maureen thinks these numbers are dates,” Annabel said, showing the row of numbers to Trevor.

  He cocked his head as he studied them. “Well, it’s not the typical dates.”

  Maureen grinned. “What do you mean?”

  He took another sip of wine. “Well…if you write the first of February 2002 let’s say. It would read 01-02-2002, correct? Over here, you put the month before the day, which I never understood.”

  They all nodded and quickly looked back at the book. All but Maureen. Annabel watched her. “All right, Einstein. You know what this is, don’t you?”

  Trevor still looked at the book. “Oh, I think I have it.”

  “What do you think?” Maureen asked.

  “Okay, look at this number 12501. I say it’s the 125th day of that year, then 01 is the year, 2001.” He looked up with a preening grin. “So what’s that?” He closed his eyes, moving his index finger as if counting. “May 5? Give or take a leap year and all that.”

  “That’s what I think, too.” Maureen held up her wineglass, touching it with Trevor’s. “It wouldn’t be hard to get a calendar for the year and figure out the day.”

  “Great minds!” he announced.

  “Are nowhere to be found,” Annabel said, looking at the book. “So if this is true, and I think you’re right, then this last row has to be the amounts. What else could it be?”

  “I agree with you,” Deirdre said. “With the commas after the first one or two digits, right?”

  “Now we just have to figure out what those smaller numbers are,” Michael said.

  Maureen fell silent as she stared at the numbers, hoping what she was seeing on those pages was not what she thought.

  There was no more talk during dinner. Maureen was grateful because she truly didn’t want to discuss it any further. Their conversation was lighthearted; they seemed to forget, for just a little while, what was going on around them.

  After a wonderful dinner, Maureen slipped into her jacket. “I’m just going to check outside,” she told Annabel.

  Michael stood. “I’ll go with ya.”

  “No, stay put. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

  She walked outside and immediately met a very large man walking out of the darkness. He had the look of a boxer about him.

  “Evening,” he said in a gruff voice. “I’m Liam. Conall sent me and a few to look after ya.”

  “Thanks, Liam.” Maureen pulled her jacket around her. “Though I don’t think Tommy will try anything.”

  He opened his jacket to show Maureen the gun he had in his belt. He shrugged with a grin. “Now that would be a shame.” He raised his fist. “I’d hate to push this through his puny little face.”

  Maureen laughed. “I’m sorry you’re stuck out here in the cold.”

  “Not to worry. We’re in the car. And taking shifts. I could use a nip of somethin’. But Conall told us no drinkin’.” He laughed. “He’s turning into an old woman.”

  “True. But no boss will treat ya better,” Maureen said.

  Liam nodded and scratched his head. “Well, get back in. No sense in both of us freezing.”

  “Thanks again. I won’t forget it.”

  “You tell Mick to stay clean. That’ll be enough.” He turned and walked back to his car.

  *******

  Annabel pressed her face against the beveled glass of the front door window, watching Maureen with a very large man. She wished she could hear what they were saying. When Maureen made her way up the front steps, she opened the door.

  “That man was huge,” Annabel said as Maureen walked in.

  “Yeah. I wouldn’t want to mess with him. I think he’s a boxer. Ya shoulda seen the hands on him.” She was about to continue when her cell went off. She frowned when she looked at the phone. “Costello,” she said, walking away from Annabel.

  Annabel did not leave; she followed her out of the foyer and down the hall. Maureen glared at her over her shoulder, but Annabel smiled and wouldn’t leave.

  “What? Yeah, yeah.” Maureen’s look pleaded with Annabel.

  Annabel shook her head and folded her arms across her chest.

  “I have it. Yes. Yes. I have an idea, but I need time. Right. What? When? Can’t ya stop him?” Maureen angrily rubbed her forehead. “Yeah. Right.” She slammed the phone shut, jamming it in her pocket.

  “Stop who?”

  “Whom…”

  Annabel glared at her but said nothing. Maureen let out a sigh of resignation; she leaned against the staircase railing and looked at the ceiling.

  “Let me guess. Stop Tommy Doyle.” Annabel shook her head. “I have to tell you, I’m sick and tired of hearing that man’s name. As I’m sure you are.”

  “I have to go, Annabel.”

  Annabel’s heart sank. “Go where?”

  “Ya know I can’t tell ya. I can’t tell Michael, either. I wanted to take my time, but the word is Doyle’s leaving tomorrow for Paris. This has to be finished tonight.”

  “You’re going to see him?” Annabel couldn’t hold back the incredulous tone in her voice.

  Maureen looked at her then. “No, but I can’t tell ya any more. You need to trust me and let me go. I’ll come back when it’s done.”

  Annabel was so stunned she couldn’t move when Maureen walked past her and out the front door.

  She left just as easy as that, taking Annabel’s heart with her.

  Chapter 21

  Maureen found Conall’s men milling around their car at the driveway entrance.

  “I need to take your car,” Maureen said. “I’m goin’ to see Con.”

  “What’s happened?” Liam asked. “Doyle?” He tossed his cigarette on the ground. “I’ll go with ya. The rest of ya, stay put and keep an eye out.”

  “We’re not goin’ to the casino. I’m meetin’ him at the old school. Ya know…”

  Liam nodded. He drove too fast, but that was fine with Maureen. Her mind raced, knowing how this would play out. She felt the bile rise in the back of her throat as her stomach churned. “Stop… Pull over,” she said quickly.

  Liam skidded to a halt along the side of the road. “What…?”

  Maureen jumped out of the car and promptly vomited. In a moment, when the heaving stopped, she got back in the car.

  Without a word, Liam put the car in gear and sped off.

  “That happened to me before every fight.” He offered her a stick of gum, which she took.

  “Did ya win?” Maureen asked.

  “Not one fight.”

  “Grand,” she said sadly.

  Liam pulled into the lot of the deserted school. The windows were broken and graffiti painted all over it. She remembered this school of her youth. She wanted to say they were fond memories, but she couldn’t lie anymore.

  As Liam pulled up, the headlights found Conall leaning against the chained double doors of the school. She got out and walked up to Conall, who called out to Liam.

  “Go back and make sure that fucking idiot doesn’t get anywhere near that house.”

  They watched until Liam drove out of sight.

  “I remember this schoolyard,” Conall said, looking around. “I got in many a fight right there.”

  “So did Michael.”

  “Yeah. He was a bullheaded kid. Still is, I’m afraid.” He glanced at Maureen. “Ya can’t clean up after him forever, luv.”

  “Just this last time.” She too looked around the empty, overgrown lot. “Just this last time.”

  Conall let out a sarcastic grunt. “You’re a softhearted woman.”

  “And you’re so hardboiled.”


  “When I have to be. So what do ya have, Maureen? It’s bad if ya have to meet me here.”

  “It is.” She stood next to him and took out the book. “Take a look.”

  Conall took out a small flashlight from his pocket and shined its beam on the book. Maureen watched him as he looked at the few pages. He then looked up. “So what is this?”

  “Doyle’s payoffs. The first row, I believe, are dates.” She explained her theory about them.

  “I get you.”

  “The last rows are amounts of money. I think that’s evident.”

  “Right. But what is this row?” He looked at her then.

  She waited for a moment until she could muster enough courage or at least not throw up again. “Garda shoulder numbers. Their IDs,” she said sadly.

  Even in the darkness, she could see the shocked look on Conall’s face. “Are ya sure?” he whispered, looking back at the pages. He then gave their surroundings a nervous glance. “Wait, let’s get out of here and go back to my office. It’s safer.”

  They drove in silence the short distance to Con’s casino. Once safely in his office, he sat on the edge of his desk and looked at the book again. “So tell me how you know these are garda IDs.”

  She was about to elaborate when they heard yelling in the hallway. The door banged open, and Maureen hung her head. “Good God, woman.”

  Annabel stood there, wild-eyed with Liam, his hands in the air, standing in front of her.

  Con raised an eyebrow. “What the devil is going on, Liam?”

  “She, she came up behind me. I…”

  Maureen saw the gun in Annabel’s hand and groaned.

  “Okay, nobody move,” Annabel said.

  “Annabel…” Maureen started. “Please.”

  “Put your hands up,” Annabel said to Conall.

  He smiled and obeyed. “Yes, ma’am. But can you please put down the gun?”

  “I know how to use this.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of. Why don’t you let Liam go? I think you’ve embarrassed him enough.” Con gave Liam a disappointed glare; Liam withered.

  “Let him go, Annie,” Maureen said softly. “Please.”

  “Okay. But if he—”

  “He won’t. I promise.” Conall motioned for Liam to leave, which he did.

  “I’m sorry if I hurt you,” Annabel said to him.

  “Thank you, miss,” he mumbled and quickly left the office, closing the door, which Annabel locked.

  “Now let’s all be friends,” Conall said. “Can I put my hands down?”

  “Slowly.”

  Maureen saw Annabel’s hand shake. “Annie…”

  “Maureen? Would you please ask Annabel to put the gun down?” Con asked slowly.

  “Please, Annie. It’s all right. Con is helping me.”

  “If you’re sure.” Annie lowered the gun.

  Con relaxed. “Besides, the safety is still on.”

  Annabel examined the gun. “Oh.” She pressed the button then.

  The noise from the shot was horrific. Annabel reeled back and screamed, so did Conall as he jumped on top of his desk. “Jaysus fucking...” he yelled as the bullet harmlessly hit the floor.

  They heard Liam call out and bang on the door. “It’s all right, Liam,” Conall called out. “I think.”

  Maureen ran to Annabel, who held the smoking gun by the grip with her thumb and index finger. “Take this!”

  “Gimme that,” Maureen said roughly and took the gun from her and switched the safety back on. “What in the hell are ya doing here? Are ya crazy?”

  “Me? What are you doing here? You just leave like that? Michael is worried half to death. So were we all. And you…” She stopped and put her hand to her forehead.

  “Annie, please,” she whispered and reached out to her.

  Annabel swatted her hand away and cried. Maureen looked at Conall, who was still crouched like a monkey on top of his desk. “Ya can come down now, Con.”

  “Are ya sure? I’ve learned not to trust a woman with a gun, especially if she’s hysterical.”

  “I’m not hysterical,” Annabel said, wiping away her tears.

  Maureen smiled. “It’s how she deals with stress.”

  “Oh, like you puking your guts up?” He climbed down from his desk, mustering as much dignity as he could. “Well, that took several years off me life, which I can’t afford.” He looked down at the hole in the floor. “I sincerely hope no one was standin’ in that exact spot downstairs.”

  Annabel put a hand to her mouth. “Oh, my God. Do you think…?”

  “He’s joking. Aren’t you?”

  “Yes, luv. I’m joking. These walls and floors are made of steel. So let’s get back to what we were discussing.” He walked past Annabel and chuckled. “She’s got guts, Maureen.” He opened the door and said something briefly to Liam before returning. “Now…”

  “What were you discussing?” Annabel asked as Maureen led her to the couch.

  “Maureen figured out the code in that little book that’s going to be very disconcerting to one Thomas Doyle.” Con poured the whiskey and handed the glasses to Maureen and Annabel.

  “What do the numbers mean, Maureen?” Annabel asked.

  “They’re garda shoulder numbers, or IDs.”

  “Garda?” Annabel’s eyes widened. “Police?” When Maureen nodded, she gulped down her drink, handing the empty glass to Conall, who refilled it. “Cops on the take?”

  “Yes. That’s exactly what it means.”

  Again, there was commotion outside in the hallway and someone banging on the door. Conall opened it and stepped back.

  Maureen was shocked when she saw Michael and Kevin.

  “Who is that?” Annabel whispered.

  “Inspector Kevin Martin,” Maureen said, watching them.

  “Thank goodness,” Annabel exclaimed. “Finally, this is over.”

  When Kevin raised his service pistol, Annabel leaned back. “And maybe not.”

  “Michael. Inspector.” Conall exchanged glances with Maureen.

  Maureen let out a sigh of relief when Kevin holstered his weapon. But she said nothing while she held on to Annabel’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

  “C’mon into the room, Michael,” Kevin said. Michael skirted around him. “Maureen, I need the book.”

  “Why?” she asked softly.

  “So I can take it to headquarters and get ya all out of this. And finish Doyle once and for all.”

  “I can’t do that, Kevin.”

  He looked at her then. “And why not?”

  She stood and reached into the pocket of her jacket, pulling out the shoulder epaulette and black leather wallet. She watched as he withered right before them. “It’s from your old uniform.”

  “So what does that mean?” Michael asked.

  Maureen didn’t answer him; she went on instead. “We found it while cleaning up the mess you and Doyle made in my apartment. Looking for the book.”

  “Maureen, are ya crazy? Listen to what you’re saying,” Michael said, staring at Kevin.

  “So,” Kevin said softly. “Ya figured it out.”

  “Yes. We suspected but couldn’t prove anything.”

  “We?” Annabel looked around the room to see everyone just as stunned as she was, except for Conall. “Who’s we? I’m confused.”

  “It’s time to come clean, Maureen,” Conall said.

  “Come clean?” Annabel said, sounding like a parrot.

  “What’s he talking about, Maureen?” Michael asked, facing her. “Come clean about what?”

  Maureen watched Kevin. “Conall and I work for a task force. Scotland Yard has been working with Dublin, trying to get Tommy for years. When this happened with Michael, I knew what I had to do.” She looked at Michael. “I begged ya for so long to stay away from him. We told you they were trying to get Doyle.”

  Annabel’s mouth dropped. “You’re a policeman?”

  “You could have to
ld me you were working with the garda.”

  “By the time we were, you were already so strung out on that shit, you weren’t coherent enough to reason with. You know that. I tried to keep ya out of it.”

  “So what? Now I’m screwed?” Michael asked.

  “No,” Con said, stepping forward. “We did this with our own provisions. Your sister’s was that you were not to be charged with anything if we got Doyle. Though you seem a wee bit ungrateful. A thank you would be in order, boyo.”

  “And what provision did you require, Mr. Murphy?” Michael asked angrily.

  Con stepped closer. “None of your fucking business.”

  “Um, Maureen?” Annabel said, reaching blindly for her arm.

  Maureen looked at her, then followed her gaze toward Kevin, who now had his service pistol drawn once again.

  “Kevin,” Maureen said slowly. “Don’t do this.”

  “I need that book, Maureen.” His blue eyes sparkled from the tears that welled. “I mean to have it now.”

  “If you come with me, maybe we can cut a deal,” Maureen pleaded.

  “No, darlin’. There won’t be any deals. Tommy is leaving for Paris. I’m heading, well, I’m leaving, as well.”

  “How far do ya think you’ll get?” Con asked. “Doyle won’t let ya go.”

  “He will when he sees me destroy that book. All the proof up in smoke.”

  “Why, Kevin?” Michael asked. “You’re like a dad to me and Maureen. You were going to adopt us when we were kids.” The pitiful tone in his voice tore at Maureen’s heart.

  “That has nothing to do with this,” Kevin said, keeping his eye on Maureen. “It was money, pure and simple. And after a while, it got so damned easy. But Maureen is right. We tried so many times to get it through that thick Irish skull of yours. Tommy Doyle was no good.” He angrily shook his head. “But ya just wouldn’t listen. Damn you.”

  Michael swallowed and wiped away the tears in his eyes. “Ya can’t do this.”

  “I have no choice.” Kevin took a deep breath. “Maureen, give me that book.”

  “I can’t.” She slowly walked away from Annabel to get her out of the line of fire. “All my life, I looked up to ya. You treated me like a daughter. You loved us. That has to mean something to you now. Don’t do this.”

  “Kevin,” Conall said quietly. “This has to stop. Doyle has ruined so many lives. Let it end here.”