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Blinding Lies

Page 11

by Amy Cronin


  “I think you misunderstand.” Tobias spoke softly, aware now that Gallagher had no idea what he was talking about. “The key is not replaceable – it cannot be covered by money. It is a computer key, you see – perhaps you call it a USB stick? Your son acquired some very interesting information that is worth a lot of money, information that very important people have paid a lot of money to secure. It is my job to return it to them. My life depends on it.” He smirked. “And so does your son’s!”

  Mae attempted to stifle a sob. Tom gripped her hand tight under the table.

  “Our dealings have been profitable. You have been very useful to us, and always honest. And I am a reasonable man. I’m willing to offer you a little time. I strongly suggest you find this thief, Mr Gallagher. Shall we say within twenty-four hours? Time really is pressing on. I will keep Mrs. Gallagher here company while you show Karl to your safe and pay some of your debts.”

  Mae looked at Tom, terrified. Tom had no choice but to follow orders. He hadn’t taken orders from anyone in years. It enraged him, threatening to erode his normally cool composure. A tiny vein bulged and pulsed in his neck, but he kept his anger in check as he rose and walked into the hall. He kept his face expressionless and waited for Karl Meier to follow him. He visualised himself pulling the gun out and blowing Karl’s face apart before running to the dining room to shoot Tobias in the back of the head. But he abandoned the fantasy and maintained his composure. The Meier gang was large, and his son remained at their mercy. Tom knew that if the brothers didn’t return to whatever rock they had crawled out from under, his son would be executed.

  Tom kept his wall safe hidden behind a family portrait in the study. Avoiding looking at his sons painted there, he lifted the frame from the wall and entered the combination. Karl pushed him roughly aside, took a folded-up shopping bag from his pocket, and filled it indiscriminately, taking every bundle of notes the safe contained. Once satisfied, he returned to the dining room. Tom followed, wondering how it had come to this.

  Karl nodded once to Tobias and the elder brother stood up to go.

  “Twenty-four hours. We will be in touch.”

  “Give me your word!” Mae spoke from her seat.

  Her voice startled the three men who all turned in her direction. She looked wretched, her face shiny with tears, but strength emanated from her eyes. “Do not harm my son until then. Give us time – leave him be!”

  Tobias studied her face for a long moment.

  “For now,” he answered quietly, and they were gone.

  After he heard the front door close, Tom Gallagher turned to the dining-room wall, and punched a hole straight through it.

  16

  On Saturday night Myles was waiting by the fountain on the Grand Parade when Anna arrived. He looked dapper, in jeans and a blazer, his wild dark hair straightened and gelled back off his face. He smiled warmly at Anna and pulled her into a hug as she reached his side. Anna was caught off guard by the physical contact and laughed despite the tension she felt about the evening ahead.

  “Hey!” Myles said. “You look great. I love your hair!”

  Anna touched the ends of it lightly. It felt so short – she wasn’t sure she had done the right thing. Her hair rested on her shoulders now, cut into flattering layers that framed her face. The hairdresser had assured her she’d get used to it, and Anna was sure she was right. It just felt so short!

  “And I love yours!” Anna said, gesturing to his.

  Myles adjusted his glasses, grinning broadly.

  Anna wore a black wrap dress, leggings and a short leather jacket. She also wore knee-high boots, to keep her legs warm as much as to dress up the outfit. A large red scarf was wound around her neck and shoulders. The streets were beginning to freeze. She rubbed her hands together, wishing she’d thought to bring gloves.

  Myles reached out and linked arms with her. “This is your city – lead the way!”

  Anna took a deep breath and smiled. “The Mad Hatter’s not too far from here.”

  “Thank God for that, it’s freezing!”

  Anna felt at ease as she moved away from the fountain in the direction of the Mad Hatter. Myles had a calming effect on her. As they walked through the busy streets and Myles chatted about his day, Anna realised that she was enjoying his company. He was fun and easy-going, and the pangs of loneliness she had felt earlier faded away. She was still having difficulty placing his accent – Dublin, Wicklow maybe? – but enjoyed the warmth of a body pressed close to hers.

  Cork city was thronged with shoppers heading to the multistorey car parks or revellers starting their night on the town, and the couple moved quickly between them to the club.

  Anna had been thinking about Kate all day, hoping she would turn up that night and that she’d get a chance to speak to her and warn her. Tom Gallagher had put a price on her head: thirty thousand euro dead, fifty thousand alive. Anna didn’t need to delve deep into the dark side of her imagination to picture what he would do to Kate if he found her.

  By the time they reached the Mad Hatter, they were freezing and spent the first few minutes inside rubbing their hands together and trying to blow some heat into them. The club was already busy. The bar area was crammed with bodies jostling to be served. Saber were setting up in one corner of the venue; it looked like they had a while to go yet before being ready to play. Anna chose a booth with a high leather sofa, a semicircle around a shiny tall table. It afforded them a view of the door and the bar area. It was a great vantage point to keep an eye out for Kate.

  The clientele of the Mad Hatter appeared to Anna to be young professionals letting loose. There was plenty of money on show. She observed the crowd from her seat while Myles went to get the drinks. Designer handbags and shoes, trays of shots, expensively applied hair extensions – these were people with cash in their pockets, determined to spend it. She wondered if there would be lines of cocaine snorted in the toilets later like the many she had been offered, and declined, in college – was that still a thing? While she adored the buzz and excitement of Cork city by day, it was a long time since Anna had been in the city on a Saturday night, and she felt woefully out of touch.

  As she scanned the venue she couldn’t see anyone she recognised from work – none of the Gardaí or detectives, nor anyone she knew from the drug squad. She knew they were here though – Elise Taylor would have made sure of it.

  Myles returned with two long-neck bottles of beer and passed one to Anna. It was ice-cold. “Cheers!” he said as they clinked bottles.

  “So where are you from?” Anna asked. “Your accent is confusing me!”

  Myles smiled as he shrugged off his coat.

  “I was born in Dublin. My mother is Greek, and we spent some time there when I was a child, then some time in America. So, I guess it’s a mixture of everywhere!”

  Anna sipped her beer and savoured its freshness.

  “So how did you get into the Guards then?” Myles asked, leaning closer to Anna as he spoke.

  The Mad Hatter was surely at full capacity now; couples and groups stood in clusters and swarms at the bar. The band started playing Snow Patrol covers.

  “I finished a post-graduate diploma and sat the civil service exams. I got stationed first in the Revenue offices, then I applied for a transfer to the Garda staff and the rest is history.” She didn’t add that she had hoped to find information on her parents’ disappearance, somehow, in that new role. It had been with great disappointment she realised the only files she could access were the ones she had typed up herself. Still, she enjoyed the work. It was a busy post, where she rarely had a clear desk, but she had learned that that was the nature of the job. The order of the role suited her – the logical compilation of facts to solve a crime.

  “What did you do your courses in?”

  “I have a degree in mathematics and a post-grad in statistical analysis.”

  Myles looked stunned.

  Anna laughed at his expression – she had seen it before. I
t wasn’t everyone had chosen her educational path.

  “What drew you to mathematics?”

  “I’ve been told I have a logical mind.” Anna shrugged. “And I like facts. They are ‘ordered’, you know? Mathematics is either factually accurate, or it didn’t happen. There’s no wriggle room, no mysteries.”

  Myles nodded. He could appreciate that.

  “And statistical analysis?”

  Anna shrugged and smiled. “I just find the logic and analysis of facts interesting.”

  Myles looked into her eyes appraisingly. “Pretty and smart – a killer combination!”

  “Very corny!” Anna groaned and Myles had the grace to look sheepish.

  Anna was embarrassed by the compliment but couldn’t help smiling. It was ages since she had been on a date, and she had to admit she was enjoying herself. She took a long drink of her beer.

  “And what about you?” she said, attempting to redirect the conversation.

  Myles laughed. “Now that would be telling!”

  Anna sipped her beer again and studied him.

  “Why so shy? How did you end up working in the Special Detective Unit?”

  Myles looked like he was considering his words.

  “I was caught doing something a little … outside the rules.”

  Anna’s eyebrows shot up – she was intrigued.

  “I came to the attention of the Gardaí for the wrong reasons. They could tell I’m a good boy though!” Myles put his hand on his heart and adopted a puppy-dog-eyes expression. “It was decided my skills could be put to better use. I was … shall we say … encouraged into the force.”

  Anna leant in closer to hear him – the band seemed to have grown louder.

  “Were you a hacker? Did you get caught hacking into government files?” she teased.

  Myles smiled and he sipped his beer. “I’m saying no more!”

  “You’ve got to tell me!”

  Anna couldn’t believe Myles would leave her hanging like this, giving her only half the story. He continued to shake his head, smiling.

  “OK, fine! You’re off the hook, for now.”

  The beers were gone, and Anna stood up, indicating she was going to the bar.

  It was then she saw her. As the music pulsed around her, and as she moved through the crowd to the long wooden bar, she kept her eyes on the woman. Hunched over a drink at a corner table, she was alone, with her back to the wall, gripping a glass of dark liquid, staring into it. Her hair was short, roughly cut, and dark. Her body language screamed tension. Her shoulders were hunched over, and she sat on the very edge of the seat, as if ready to spring up and run. She looked up, her eyes scanning the crowd. Her face was pale and tired, but her eyes were the bright green Anna remembered. It was the faint ring of darker skin at her hairline that convinced her – hair dye. This was Kate Crowley. She was trying to disguise her appearance, and she was in trouble.

  The crowd was heavy and swaying to the music from the band. Anna struggled to keep Kate in sight as she pushed her way forward.

  Suddenly Kate stood up, picked up her coat and began to move, heading towards the back of the club. She kept her head down, pushing through the dancers, and made her way into the ladies’ toilets.

  Kate was relieved to find the small space empty. She needed some time in the peace and quiet to steady her nerves. She stood at the sink, staring at her reflection. How was it possible to look so terrified? She was taken aback by her gaunt and pale appearance. She felt that she stood out a mile from the glamorous crowd – still wearing her jeans and blue jumper from Wednesday. She couldn’t believe she was still in this city! If she hadn’t stupidly left her passport behind, she would already be in France, instead of waiting for Nick in this packed club.

  What she knew for certain was that she was running out of options, and she was beginning to doubt she would get out of Cork alive. Her nerves were rattled as she waited for Nick – the loud music, the crowd – it was too much. She hadn’t eaten properly in days and she felt weak and cold. She pulled on her coat, checking that her scarf and hat were safely tucked into its pockets.

  Suddenly, the door opened and a man stood in its frame, taking up the whole space. He was huge. Dressed in black, he was what she knew was referred to as “muscle”. He smiled coldly, accentuating a scar that ran from his lip to his ear.

  “Kate, I presume?” He stepped towards her. “Tom Gallagher wants a word.”

  Terror paralysed her. She stood rooted to the tiled floor.

  Then a young woman appeared behind him.

  Kate registered her blonde hair, her black dress, saw her mouth open and form a familiar word:

  “Kate!”

  The man turned to face the blonde woman.

  She locked eyes with him.

  “Private business in here – get out!” he snarled.

  He reached to grab her by the hair, perhaps to throw her outside the door. Whatever his intentions, they didn’t materialise.

  As he reached out she swiftly stepped to the side and palm-blocked his arm, before punching him hard in the kidneys. His shock registered as she kicked out viciously, connecting with the front of his knee. He fell backward with a groan, and his head jerked to the side, hitting one of the white porcelain sinks. He fell to the floor, unconscious.

  Kate watched it all as though it were a slow-motion movie, her mouth hanging open.

  The woman held out her hand.

  “Kate, we don’t have much time – we have to get you out of here!”

  She gestured for Kate to step over the man.

  But Kate couldn’t move. Everything was still in slow motion.

  Standing at the door, Anna looked to her right and saw two men walking along the corridor leading to the toilets. They were dressed much the same as the man lying unconscious on the floor, with grim expressions marring their faces.

  She darted back into the ladies’, slamming the door behind her, feeling around the handle for a lock. “Damn!” she muttered, not finding one.

  Adrenaline pumped through her veins. The man on the ground was stirring and soon it would be three against one.

  Small windows opened outward in each toilet cubicle. She pushed Kate towards one of them.

  “You have to climb out, do you understand? Our friend here,” she jerked her thumb in the direction of the man stirring on the floor, “has two friends on their way in!”

  Kate just stared at her open-mouthed. Anna knew she had no choice – she slapped Kate sharply on the cheek. The slap was effective – Kate’s eyes regained focus and she darted forward.

  The window was small, but just big enough to squeeze through. Kate wriggled her way through it, Anna following. As she exited Anna saw the man rise from the bathroom floor and heard him roar out in anger. She jumped to the ground, her heart pounding. The concrete was hard and the heels on her boots thin – a jolt of pain shot up her legs and into her lower back.

  Both women stayed low to the ground.

  “Thanks!” Kate whispered, breathing hard. She looked at her rescuer in confusion. “Anna?”

  Anna nodded. “We need to get out of here. I can get you to a safe place – come with me, please!”

  Kate hadn’t seen Anna Clarke in years. She had survived this long by relying on her instincts and by staying alone. How did Anna know about the Gallaghers?

  They were in an alley at the side of the club. There were bins and empty beer kegs lining the walls.

  Anna wished she had her phone to call the Gardaí, but it was back at the table with Myles.

  Abruptly Kate stood up and jogged toward the entrance of the alley, intent on getting out of there.

  “Wait!” Anna called, struggling to her feet.

  Suddenly a man turned into the alley from the entrance of the street. It was one of Gallagher’s men. Kate was only feet away from him, and he grinned in satisfaction.

  Everything happened so quickly then.

  The man reached for Kate, but she twisted to the
left, pivoted on her left foot and spun, her right leg dead straight, kicking the guy in the face with such force he crumpled in a heap on the ground. She stepped over him and, without a backward glance, ran into the dark.

  Anna dropped to the ground behind a large bin, out of sight.

  What the hell was that?

  Anna recognised a skilled defensive kick when she saw one. Kate had just delivered a powerful blow and knocked a man out.

  Alarm bells rang loud in Anna’s head. What exactly was going on? Her theory that Kate must have shot David Gallagher in self-defence was looking less likely – with such skills she could have knocked him out! Why did she have to kill him? Anna thought of the pathologist’s report, that Gallagher had suffered a vicious assault. Was Kate capable of such things?

  Anna stood up and ran out of the alley, past the man now regaining consciousness on the ground. She needed to get back to Myles and their date. And she needed to speak with Elise Taylor.

  17

  Elise Taylor sipped her fourth coffee of the night at her work desk. This was not how Elise had wanted to spend a Saturday night. She was exhausted – sleep had been impossible since the shooting.

  She checked her mobile phone for the umpteenth time – no message. She was growing increasingly restless as she waited for word from the undercover drug crew from the Mad Hatter. The undercover detectives Connors and Moore were pros at this. Their professional façade was easily eroded by a few days’ unshaved stubble and the right clothes; they could easily blend into the nightclub. But they were all Janet McCarthy would sanction. Elise felt sour about that – this bloody political conference was taking over everything, pushing all other cases to the bottom of the “urgent” pile. The Chief Superintendent would deny it, but the fact that it was a serious criminal who was dead was contributing to her apathy, Elise was sure of it.

  She remembered her heated exchange with Janet McCarthy yesterday lunchtime.

  “David Gallagher will still be dead when the political conference is over,” Janet had said.

 

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