Danny Dempsey and the Unlikely Alliance

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Danny Dempsey and the Unlikely Alliance Page 4

by Denis Byrne


  Now, as he traversed the winding country roads towards his destination five miles from town, all he’d done out of the ordinary was take Charlie along for the ride. But not in his original form. He’d ordered him to transform into a hook-beaked eagle, whose talons gripped the handlebars in front of him, bronze feathers ruffling in the breeze, as it stared imperiously ahead as though it were the symbol of an ancient Roman legion, leading the battle charge.

  The mobile phone in Danny’s pocket began pulsating. He applied the brakes a bit too abruptly before he pulled into the side of the road, resulting in the eagle having to flap its wings in a frenzied flurry to prevent itself from being dislodged. Danny laughed out loud, but the eagle was not in the slightest bit amused.

  This sudden loss of dignity wasn’t at all what it had been expecting, its only consolation being that there was nobody other than Danny on this deserted country road to view its desperate flapping. And when the crisis had passed, and imperiousness was once more restored, it turned its regal head and trained a look of fierce disapproval in Danny’s direction. It was letting him know in no uncertain manner what it thought of being made look foolish, especially if there happened to be any crows hidden in the foliage of the trees in the vicinity. It would set them smirking no end to see the king of the air almost flung headfirst into a ditch. Crows were always on the lookout for things like that.

  But Danny wasn’t even aware he was being given a royal look of distain. He’d already wheeled his bike over to a nearby gate of a field and parked it against it, fishing his mobile from his pocket as he did so. The eagle was still perched on the handlebars, though more composed now, as it twisted its head this way and that, scanning the hedgerows for thrushes and sparrows, who might be having a quiet snigger at its expense. It needn’t have worried, though, for the word had gone out some time back among the local feathered community that an eagle was speeding in their direction, and they’d already taken off for safety long ago.

  ‘I’m sorry, Super,’ Danny said apologetically. ‘But you know how frustrated Charlie gets when he can’t be himself now and then. I really thought it was early enough to let him have his head for a while.’

  ‘And I understand he nearly had Mrs. Pearson’s head while he was at it.’ Superintendent Clifford said on the other end of the line. ‘Not to mention climbing up the side of the house to get at her husband.’ Danny thought he heard a faint chuckle following, but it could have merely been some static interference in his ear. ‘Just try and be a bit more careful in the future, that’s all I’m saying. All right?’

  ‘Okay, Super,’ Danny replied. ‘I’ll try. But you know how it is sometimes. I kind of forget.’

  ‘Boys will be boys, eh? It just seemed like a good idea at the time? Is that it?’ The Superintendent asked, then added before Danny could agree, ‘I was one myself once, Danny. I understand. Now, though, we’ve got a big one on our hands. It’s time for serious concentration. How far away are you?’

  ‘About another mile. I’m on my mountain bike.’

  ‘Slumming, is that it?’ The Superintendent definitely did chuckle this time. ‘No magic carpet or flying goat to help you get here faster?’

  ‘I’ll be there before you know it, Super. And keep your eyes peeled for a surprise while you’re waiting.’ Danny laughed, then rang off before he could be asked what he was talking about.

  Superintendent Clifford replaced his mobile in the pocket of his lumberjack’s coat. He was sitting on a large rock on the bank of the river where he’d arranged to meet Danny. His car was parked between two oak trees in off the road, hidden from view. The rays of the sun were reflecting from his bright yellow waders, being defected into the water with the intensity of a searchlight. Had the Superintendent been on a genuine fishing trip, the only thing he was going to catch were squeals of laughter from the hares, rabbits and squirrels gathered on the far bank hiding in the tall grass, drawn there to view the dazzling display. The trout who normally inhabited the deep pool the Superintendent was overlooking had taken themselves downstream just as soon as the first fluorescent yellow ray had struck the surface of the water.

  Then, something flashed past the Superintendent’s head, landing with a tremendous splash in the pool. It looked like a bird of some sort, though it could have been anything really, for it had been going so fast, he hadn’t a clue as to its identity. Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t lightweight, for the amount of water it sent skywards as it disappeared into the pool splattered all over the Superintendent on its downward flight.

  He watched the surface of the pool intently, anxious to see what on earth it was had made the water explode like that. It would have to come up for air soon. But as the water settled and became calm once again, nothing broke the serenity the surface had again regained. The Superintendent scratched his head. Maybe it had been a big fat otter playing tricks on him, doing a hop, step and jump behind his back to gather speed before diving into the pool and swimming under the bank just for the fun of it. Otters were notorious for playing tricks on humans whenever the opportunity arose.

  As the Superintendent continued to speculate on what type of creature it might have been, Danny was turning in off the road, standing up on the pedals and driving the bike through wiry wild grass towards their meeting place. He had to skirt bushes, watch out for overhanging branches, keep an eye out for rabbit burrows, hidden rocks and the like, as the last time he’d negotiated this terrain, a bulging tree root had almost been responsible for catapulting him into a bed of nettles. He was glad he’d ordered the eagle to fly on ahead of him. Its weight on the handlebars would have been too much to cope with right now. He was also glad when he saw the Superintendent’s car in its usual spot. Danny dismounted and leaned his bike against one of the oak trees between which the car was parked. It was only a short walk to the bank of the river.

  But a short walk for Danny Dempsey was never as short as one for most other people, especially in the countryside. He had too many friends there who engaged him in conversation, and Danny was always so pleased to see them, he invariably forgot that he had more pressing matters calling for his attention.

  A fawn emerged from behind a sycamore tree and commenced asking his advice on what it should get for its parents wedding anniversary. It wasn’t in the slightest bit shy in approaching Danny with this problem it had been mulling over for weeks. It first nuzzled him in greeting, its big soulful eyes looking into his earnestly, as Danny patted its head and suggested that perhaps a nice silver necklace would do very nicely for its Mother. He’d get one himself in town and be sure to deliver it to the fawn well before the important date came around.

  ‘Would you really, Danny?’ the fawn asked anxiously, though knowing full well it had nothing to be anxious about once Danny had given his word.

  ‘Of course, Belinda,’ Danny reassured her. ‘I’ll have it here for you in a couple of day’s time. Don’t worry any more about it.’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about getting Father a dartboard. Do you think that would be appropriate?’

  ‘Well, it’s the thought that counts,’ Danny replied diplomatically, trying to recall whether Belinda’s Father was the stag with the new screw-in antlers, then remembering that he most certainly was, having had to come flying out one night about six months ago on his goat to break up a drunken brawl between Belinda’s Father and another tipsy stag, after the pair of them had partaken of a few too many fermenting elderberries. Belinda’s Father had been shorn of his antlers in the melee, and Danny had to fashion him a new set before he’d show his head in the woods again. He’d been holed up in a cave in the hills, too ashamed to be seen without his crowning glory until Danny sorted out his problem for him. ‘But I think maybe he’d appreciate two nice pairs of slippers instead. The last time I saw him, his hooves were badly shredded from all the pawing at the ground he’d been doing that night he was under the weather.’

  ‘Oh, that’s all over and forgotten about, Danny,’ Belinda laughed. ‘T
hey’re the best of friends again, and Father’s hooves are quite all right now. And nobody even pretends to notice his new antlers. But about his present. You see, he was watching Phil Taylor on the television a while back during the world darts championship, and ever since he’s been saying he’s sure he’d be able to get one hundred and eighty every single time without the slightest bother. That’s why I was thinking of the dartboard.’

  Of course, by this time a queue had formed behind Belinda, all anxious to talk to Danny and seek his advice on this, that and the other. Danny, having told Belinda he thought the dartboard was a splendid idea, then had chats with each of his friends in rotation. When Ollie the otter’s turn came, he was the same as ever. He’d more medical complaints than the entire patient population of the largest hospital in town put together.

  Every time Danny ran into him, it was something new. This time he was sure he’d contracted malaria. Weak as a kitten he was, Ollie moaned, hardly able to make himself a decent cup of tea any more. Danny, as he did on all previous occasions, gave Ollie the remedy to cure his latest ailment. Seventeen slivers of finely chopped moonlight, mixed carefully with half a spoonful of rainbow soup. Ollie thanked him profusely, then rushed off to check on his moonlight trap to ensure it was in perfect working order for tonight. Danny knew the malaria would disappear just as mysteriously as it had come, but also knew that the next time he encountered Ollie, some new, imagined exotic malady would have to be dealt with.

  He was deeply into a debate with Mrs. Vixen regarding whether or not she should allow her cubs to join the scouts this year or the following one, when every single animal Danny had been socializing with vanished as though by magic. One second, they were there, the next, he was standing alone in the clearing, talking to himself, still giving the absent Mrs. Vixen his own view on the matter.

  ‘Well, the way I see it, Mrs. Vixen,’ he was saying, when he heard movements behind him, warning him that someone was heading his way.

  Danny, realising that he was now conversing with the empty air, promptly sealed his lips and turned around. The immense figure of Superintendent Clifford was staring at him quizzically. Of course, Danny immediately realised that the animals, with their heightened senses, had heard the Superintendent approaching long before he had. He tried to act nonchalantly, but found it difficult not to laugh outright when he saw the manner in which the Superintendent was dressed. He looked like a particularly tall, well-built chicken, whose bright yellow legs extended all the way down from his thighs to his toecaps.

  ‘Giving a speech, Danny? Eh?’ the Superintendent asked casually, then glanced at his watch meaningfully. ‘I thought you’d got lost.’

  ‘Just clearing my throat in the clearing, Super,’ Danny said, striving for something witty to say, wondering how much of the one-sided conversation the Superintendent had heard, then realising that even if he had, he wouldn’t have understood a word of the Animal-Speak, anyway. ‘I’m not that late, am I?’

  ‘No more than the usual twenty minutes or so. You do get carried away sometimes.’

  ‘But only sometimes, Super,’ Danny reminded him. ‘You wouldn’thave recruited me if I was unreliable all the time, would you?’

  ‘Point taken, Danny, point taken,’ the Superintendent agreed. ‘And I’m going to have to rely on you even more now. Your special, er, services will be called on a lot for this case. Top secret. Even my own staff haven’t been told anything about it yet, though I’m thinking strongly of getting Harrington involved in this one. He’d raw, but he’s got splendid potential.’ He glanced in the direction of an oak tree as though he had a particular interest in it, then said, ‘What do you say we get down to business, Danny? I’ve a lot to fill you in on.’

  ‘That would be super, Super.’

  The Superintendent smiled in spite of himself. ‘You just can’t resist an opening, can you? Eh? And I’d have appreciated it if you’d have let me know Charlie would be here before you would.’

  ‘So he arrived on schedule, did he?’

  ‘Lucky I haven’t a weak heart,’ the Superintendent said. ‘What was it you ordered him to transform into before he flew over my head like that and emptied half the water out of the pool? He was going so fast all I saw was a blur.’

  ‘Golden eagle, Super,’ Danny said simply. ‘And he loved every minute of it. I let him come most of the way on the handlebars of my bike.’

  The Superintendent groaned. ‘I hope no one saw him. I don’t want another - ’.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Danny grinned. ‘The few farmers we passed probably thought he was stuffed. The way he was holding himself, all proud and haughty, staring straight ahead, not moving a muscle, I’m sure they were telling themselves he couldn’t possibly be alive.’

  ‘Well, he is now, prowling around in that pool and scaring anything that’s down there within an inch of their lives. I don’t suppose many of them have come across an alligator in this country before.’

  ‘I should hope not. I told him to change back to himself as soon as he went underwater, and I also ordered him that on no account was he to eat anything that might happen to stray into the pool. Just swim around and enjoy himself until I arrived.’

  ‘He’s doing that, all right,’ the Superintendent said. ‘At first I wasn’t sure what it was, but I might have guessed. After a while, he let me know he was there. Stuck his snout a couple of inches above the water and winked at me before he disappeared again. After another while, all that came up was a periscope, pointing in my direction. He was still playing submarines when I came looking for you.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  Danny found what he was being told difficult to believe. They were back on the river bank, the Superintendent sitting on the rock, Danny sitting on the grass beside it, taking in everything in silence. Their last cooperation together had been straightforward and uncomplicated in relation to what he was now being told about.

  *

  It had been a dangerous enough assignment, involving two ruthless twin brothers who used jet-propelled wheelchairs to carry out bank robberies all over the country. They’d already outfoxed numerous security guards and Garda officers before the Superintendent decided to take matters into his own hands. He’d called Danny to where they were now sitting to a private meeting, gave him the facts, then asked him if he’d be prepared to join him in putting a stop to the wheelchair raiders once and for all.

  The brothers had up to then eluded all efforts of the police to apprehend them. They were clever, and didn’t stick to any set pattern which might give away the fact where they were going to strike next. When all rural banks had been forewarned about their method of operating, which was by easing themselves into the buildings in their wheelchairs so as to allay suspicion, they altered their tactics. They parked the chairs in a convenient spot not far away, then hobbled in on aluminium crutches, evoking sympathetic glances from customers and tellers alike. Should a security guard be on duty, he’d invariably act the Good Samaritan, asking them politely if they required any assistance as they went about their business.

  As soon as the unsuspecting guard came close enough, one of them would continue the pretence of disability, divert the guard’s attention, while the second twin made a miraculous recovery, leaped across, then promptly squirted a jet of Mace from the end of one of the crutches into the guard’s face, rendering him temporarily blind and breathless for the length of time it took the twins to conduct their real business.

  One of them kept watch over the customers with a sawn-off shotgun which materialised from under his coat, whilst his brother ordered the terrified tellers to fill the neatly folded canvas sacks he’d thoughtfully brought along for the occasion. The sack-stuffing, he emphasised menacingly, must be done with speed and efficiently, otherwise, his nervous twin could possibly develop an itchy trigger finger.

  They were aware, he continued, that the alarm had most probably already been raised, some naughty member of the staff having more than likely pressed a panic butt
on while they’d been dealing with the guard. It always happened, he told anyone who might be interested, and hoped they’d appreciate why he was urging the tellers to get the blankedy-blank loot into the blankedy- blank sacks quickly, unless, of course, they wanted their blankedy-blank heads blown off.

  As soon as they heard the police sirens wailing in the distance, the twins made their exit laden down with their haul, nipped out to where they’d parked their wheelchairs, stashing the loot in the special compartments built under them, then rocketed away past the oncoming squad cars like a couple of shooting stars. Laughing, as one of them always said to the other after they’d made their getaway, all the way from the bank.

  As they counted the takings and had a celebratory drink in their palatial penthouse after each successful robbery, they smugly told each other that they’d never be caught. They were far too smart for the stupid forces of law and order, with their idiotic police officers and ponderously slow squad cars. Snails, they’d snigger sarcastically, would have a better chance of catching them. Then they’d toast each other with the finest champagne other people’s money could buy. But, after another few months, they’d become restless, then get down to planning what type of ruse they’d employ for their next robbery.

  Which was their last after Superintendent Clifford and Danny became involved in tracking them down. Danny decided to have a word with Madam Noseybeak as soon as the Superintendent gave him whatever scantly details were on the police files regarding the twins. There wasn’t an awful lot. But it was known that they were fond of a luxurious lifestyle, and certainly wouldn’t dream of living anywhere other than in the finest accommodation. It was also known that they were twins, for they were audacious enough to allow themselves to be filmed by security CCTVs without even bothering to wear balaclavas. It added spice to their crimes, this thumbing of their noses at the authorities.

 

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