Rugby Runner

by Siggins, Gerard;

  Paddy nodded.

  ‘Now,’ grinned Eoin, ‘please go out there and make sure I have something to get back to when I’m allowed to!’

  ‘Ach, sure I’ll do my best but I’m not sure I’m up to it,’ Paddy sighed.

  ‘Stop that talk,’ laughed Jarlath, who had just arrived at the doorway. ‘Those Italy lads aren’t much use, and sure you won’t be on your own. The rest of us are pretty amazing anyway.’

  Eoin laughed at Jarlath, who was always up for a laugh and a member of the Connacht team that had given Leinster such a lesson. That game in Limerick seemed like years ago, not weeks.

  ‘Hey Jarl, what do you remember about the day the cup went missing?’

  ‘Well, it’s hard to remember anything, to be honest. We were getting such a pasting out on the field, and then you getting stretchered off was a bit of a distraction. I do remember seeing the cup just after you scored though, so it could only have disappeared after that. It’s amazing they didn’t find it though – everyone was searched leaving the ground. They even came into the dressing rooms to check our kit bags before we left.’

  ‘Really?’ asked Eoin. ‘They must have been very thorough – how on earth did the thieves smuggle it out.’

  ‘Or thief,’ said Paddy. ‘How do you know it was more than one?’

  ‘Good point,’ said Eoin. ‘I’m very confused about that day, and it’s not just because I got a bang on the head. I’m trying to work it out, but I think the ambulance driver took a longer route to the hospital, going over bumps and around bends when there was a straight clear run from the way he had come beside the pitch.’

  ‘Ach, sure why don’t you check it out on the computer?’ suggested Paddy. ‘One of those mapping sites will tell you in a second. Here, I have one on my phone.’

  Paddy twiddled around with his smart-phone and discovered that the distance from the Belfield Bowl to the hospital was just 700 metres.

  ‘But the ambulance ride took about ten minutes,’ Eoin puzzled. ‘They could have carried me down on foot in that time. Where on earth was he going?’

  ‘Maybe he was new in the job,’ offered Jarlath. ‘He mightn’t have known the area.’

  ‘But the hospital is less than a kilometre away. He must have known the area,’ said Paddy.

  ‘Anyway, that’s all very well,’ said Eoin. ‘But that’s not going to help us find the trophy – or beat Italy. Do you want me to through the plans with you or not Paddy?’

  Chapter 33

  Paddy was a quick learner, and he, Sam and Neil worked hard on getting their tactics right for the game against Italy. There had been a bit of disrespectful talk among some of the players about the opposition, but Neil wasn’t haven’t anything to do with that. He hammered home his points about the Italians’ strengths and made sure there was no complacency.

  It worked, and Ireland ran out 38-3 winners with Paddy settling brilliantly into the role and kicking four of the six conversions as well as scoring a try. The result put Ireland in a stronger position, but as there was no chance of Italy beating the Kiwis, whether Ireland qualified or not now depended on the other results.

  Alan kept Eoin updated on the situation with regular texts over the next few days, and also called over to watch some of the games. They arranged to meet in Belfield to watch the final two games of the pool stages.

  ‘It doesn’t matter who wins between Australia and England because they both have a smaller points difference than Ireland, so the loser will be below us anyway,’ Alan explained as they walked over to the ground. ‘But the last game could be messy, because Scotland and South Africa both had big wins over France.’

  ‘So what does that mean for us?’ asked Eoin.

  ‘Well, if South Africa win, Scotland can go through too if they stay within two points,’ explained Alan. ‘But if Scotland were to win, then the South Africans would just have to avoid defeat by more than fifteen points and we would be out.’

  Eoin inhaled sharply. ‘Oh dear, that’s not great is it?’ He liked the Scots lads he had met in London during the summer, but there was only one thing for it.

  ‘Come on the Springboks!’ he laughed. ‘And of course the Aussies – for Charlie.’

  The boys found a place to sit on the grassy banks opposite the main stand, and chatted. Eoin was embarrassed to admit that because of the lack of developments he had given up hunting for the William Webb Ellis Cup – and he wasn’t looking forward to William’s return.

  ‘There’s fewer policemen around today, too,’ he observed. ‘I suppose they’re busy doing other things now the fuss has died down.’

  ‘I suppose there’s nothing left to protect here except the much smaller and less fancy trophy you’re playing for,’ Alan pointed to the group of four security guards who now stood beside the platform. ‘That’s a good example of closing the stadium door after the horse has bolted,’ he chuckled.

  Eoin laughed too, but then suddenly stopped in his tracks. ‘What did you say about closing the stadium door?’

  ‘After the horse has bolted?’ replied Alan.

  ‘No, forget the horse. Stadium door… bolted… lock… key…’

  Eoin stared at Alan, and back at the security guards.

  ‘I have it,’ he says. ‘I know how they got away with the trophy. But catching them and proving it is another story…’

  ‘Hang on, Eoin, hang on,’ gasped Alan as he trotted along behind his friend. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I’m going to talk to one of the World Rugby or IRFU guys. They’ll know if there’s any Gardaí around still working on the case.’

  Eoin scanned the grandstand to see if he spotted anyone he knew. Right in the middle, carrying a clipboard, sat Neil.

  ‘Eoin, are you here to watch the games?’

  ‘Well, yes,’ he replied, ‘but that’s not what I came to ask you. Is there anyone around from the IRFU who might have anything to do with the missing trophy?’

  Neil stared at Eoin. ‘Trophy? Well, the union’s security officer, Keith, is around somewhere. He’s been very involved with the investigation.’

  Neil stopped and looked towards the pitch where the teams were lining up.

  ‘That’s him there, the tall man with the moustache. Tell him…’

  But Eoin never heard the rest of the sentence, as he took the steps two at a time in his rush to get onto the field.

  He tapped the tall man on the arm.

  ‘Sir,’ he started. ‘I was on the Ireland team on the day the cup was stolen. I think I know how they did it.’

  Chapter 34

  The IRFU official stared at Eoin, and checked his name on the card he had hanging around his neck.

  ‘Eoin Madden. Well, Eoin, that’s very interesting. Let me just finish up here and we’ll have a chat.’

  The official stood and watched as the game kicked off and checked his watch.

  ‘Right, I can give you precisely four minutes. Come in here,’ he added, directing Eoin to a prefab office.

  ‘What’s this about the trophy?’

  ‘Well…’ Eoin started, scrambling to put his thoughts in order. ‘It started when Roger Savage was injured during the game, and was put in an ambulance. The driver must have been poisoned, as he was throwing up and had to abandon his ambulance just outside the back gate there.

  ‘Then I was injured later and a different ambulance collected me. I only found that out later, but I was suspicious because he we went a longer roundabout way to the hospital.’

  Keith looked baffled, and a little irritated.

  ‘This means nothing, Eoin, you’re wasting my time.’

  ‘No, I’m not, honestly. There was a bit of delay getting going and I found out that the ambulance driver wanted to leave by the other gate because, he said, it was a much shorter journey through the college and out the main entrance. It was actually much longer and bumpier, and the gate was locked anyway.

  ‘But he must have asked the security man guarding the trophies
to get the key so he could have a chance to steal the trophy.

  ‘The one thing I remember before we left was the driver dropping a kitbag on the floor of the ambulance and kicking it under the bed. The guys on the team said that the Gardaí searched all their kitbags, which put that idea into my head.’

  The IRFU man nodded, and pursed his lips.

  ‘How big was the bag? Did make a rattling noise?’

  Eoin shook his head. ‘I was lying down so I didn’t have a great view, sorry.’

  ‘But they had to leave you down at the hospital…’ the IRFU man muttered. ‘There might be CCTV pictures of the vehicle and the driver…’

  He stood up quickly. ‘OK, stay right here and I’ll be back in one minute.’

  He returned with the nice World Rugby official, Fitzy, and three Gardaí, who looked excited. Eoin told them his story.

  ‘That’s not a bad theory at all,’ said the senior garda. ‘Have you any career plans yet? You’d make quite a decent detective.’

  Eoin smiled. ‘I had a bit of spare time after I got injured so I spent a lot of time thinking about the case.’

  ‘Well if you decide, give me a call,’ she smiled, handing him her card.

  The detectives quizzed Eoin for almost an hour, asking him to go over his story several times while stopping him to ask questions every few seconds.

  When they were finished they thanked him and told him they would be in touch, and Eoin left the office buzzing.

  He found Alan and told him what happened, filling him in on his theory about the theft of the William Webb Ellis Cup.

  Alan had loads of questions, and was delighted to hear that it was his mention of locking the stadium door that had led to Eoin coming up with his solution. He was completely captivated by the story, but he was rudely interrupted by a cheer from the grandstand alongside.

  Alan looked up to see boys in blue shirts celebrating a try. He checked the scoreboard and, with a look of horror, returned to his calculations.

  ‘What’s up?’ asked Eoin.

  ‘We’re in trouble,’ he replied. ‘If the Scots convert this they’ll be one point ahead of us on points difference. And there’s less than two minutes left.’

  Chapter 35

  The conversion sailed over and Eoin winced. It pained him to remember back to his try against the All Blacks and how he would definitely have put the conversion over had he not been flat on his back.

  ‘Oh no!’ groaned Alan. ‘We’re a goner. What are the chances of South Africa getting up the other end?’

  Eoin shrugged. The Baby Boks were already in the semi-finals; he didn’t expect them to make any great effort to score again.

  As the time ticked away, the Scots started to relax and sense the place was theirs. But a Garryowen from their scrum-half failed to make touch just outside the Springbok 22 and it was collected on the bounce by the South African winger. He looked up to see the Scots trotting after the ball and spotted a gap. Like the African antelope that sprang across their national crest, the winger hit top speed almost immediately and burst through the fingertips of the defence. With one delicate change of direction he was away, charging 70 metres at full tilt towards the posts.

  The score brought the crowd to its feet, both for the brilliance of the move and what it did to the result, which ensured the host nation would qualify for the last four.

  The Scots boys’ heads fell, and one or two burst into tears. The South Africans were delighted, and whooped their joy as the final kick went over the bar. But none of these displays of emotion were as extraordinary as that shown by Alan, who took his Ireland replica shirt off, twirled it around his head and went off on a trot along the top of the grassy bank, strutting like a chicken and singing ‘We Are the Champions’.

  Eoin was amused by his pal’s display, if a little embarrassed that he thought singing about being champions was the right thing to do when Ireland had just about scraped into the last four. Still, it was well worth celebrating. ‘Put your jersey back on, you’ll get pneumonia,’ he laughed. ‘Or some chicken disease anyway.’

  Alan leapt in the air and embraced Eoin. ‘Wasn’t that try fantastic? And we’re into the semis!’

  ‘It’s brilliant,’ agreed Eoin. ‘I wonder who we’re playing next.’

  ‘Australia,’ blurted Alan. ‘Sorry, I thought you knew.’

  ‘No, but that’s not too bad. I was afraid we’d have to play New Zealand again.’

  ‘They organise it so the best second-placed team can’t play the team from the same group. I had all the different options worked out before the game,’ he said, showing Eoin a piece of paper that looked like a drawing of a plate of blue spaghetti.

  Eoin took one look at the calculations and handed the paper back.

  ‘I’ll take your word for it,’ he chuckled.

  The boys spotted Neil in the stand and raced over to him.

  ‘Well coach, you’ve got to be happy with that,’ smiled Eoin.

  ‘Yes, that was fantastic. I feel sorry for the Scots, but it would have been very hard on us to be knocked out that way. Now we have to get you match-fit as soon as we can – we’re playing the Wallabies just three days from now. Their coach is over there, I must go over and have a word.’

  Neil pointed over to the corner of the stand where a man in a bright gold blazer was deep in conversation with someone they knew well… Charlie Johnston.

  As Neil greeted the Australia coach, Charlie looked across to where the boys were standing. He grinned sheepishly, and shrugged his shoulders.

  The next three days passed in a whirl for Eoin. His sitting-out period was over and he was able to take a full part in training. He slotted back in perfectly at No.10, and Paddy was happy to move back out to centre. Joe Kelly was distraught that his tournament was over but Neil asked him to stay with the squad and enjoy – as a non-combatant – whatever lay ahead.

  After their last training session was finished Eoin sat down beside Joe and asked him how the Irish side looked from the sideline.

  ‘You’ve a great eye for a move, when to run and when to kick,’ he told him. ‘You must have some ideas for what we need to do against the Aussies.’

  ‘Thanks, Eoin,’ Joe smiled. ‘I have noticed a few things you do differently to me, but they’ve been successful for you so don’t go changing at this stage.’

  ‘Every day’s a school day, Joe. My grandad’s always saying that. I’m always open to suggestions.’

  The pair chatted away and compared their different approaches. Joe made a good point about Sam.

  ‘When he picks up the ball after a ruck or a scrum he always has a look where the backs are before he gets the pass away. If he had his look while the ball was still inside the set-piece he’d have that extra second to make the pass. I was only in the team for one game so I didn’t want to mention it, but you seem to know him pretty well.’

  Eoin nodded. Sam had been slow against Castlerock in the warm-up game, but then he had been much better against the All Blacks. He said he’d have a chat with Paddy first to see if Sam would mind this being pointed out.

  One good thing about Joe’s injury was that Neil had to rejig the squad a bit, and as he was well covered at out-half with Paddy and Eoin, he decided to bring in some cover on the wings, which meant a call-up for the delighted Dylan.

  After dinner that night Eoin went for a run with his friend and when they reached the rugby ground they paused to lean against the gate.

  ‘Look out there, look at that field,’ said Dylan. ‘That’s where it’s all going to happen over the next few days – you’re going to become a national hero with five million people knowing your name, or you’re going to disappear back into being an anonymous nobody who’s adored by only about five hundred kids. That would be a big win, wouldn’t it?’

  Eoin had been thinking of the game the next day, but hadn’t quite thought of it in that way. And he was more distracted by a familiar figure who was wandering around in front of the grandst
and on the far side of the pitch.

  ‘Who’s that?’ asked Dylan. ‘He’s a weird looking character. Is he in fancy dress?’

  Eoin laughed.

  ‘That’s your man you were talking to back in Castlerock, isn’t it? The lad who invented rugby!’ asked Dylan.

  ‘Yeah, that’s him,’ replied Eoin. He’s going mad looking for the trophy because it’s named after him. I hope the Gardaí are able to find it.’

  ‘He’s waving now. Do you want to go over to him, he seems like he wants a chat?’

  ‘Time to go, I think,’ said Eoin. ‘We’re under a curfew tonight so let’s get back to the living quarters before we get into trouble,’ he said, before turning and jogging away from the sports ground.

  Chapter 36

  If Eoin thought he had escaped William he was sorely mistaken. As he brushed his teeth later that night he noticed a stern-looking face over his shoulder in the mirror.

  ‘Are you avoiding me, young sir?’ asked the ghost.

  ‘Oh… hi, Will,’ muttered Eoin. ‘Well, not really. It’s just that as far as I know they still haven’t found the trophy. I had an idea that it had been stolen by the ambulance man, but the Gardaí haven’t been able to track him down. They found him on CCTV driving into the hospital but they lost him after that.’

  ‘CCTV? What’s that? … Oh, never mind. Please let me know if you hear anything at all.’

  Eoin nodded, and said he would, before William disappeared.

  Later, as he lay his head down on his pillow, he remembered what Joe had said about Sam and resolved to say something to him over breakfast.

  There was a much bigger crowd next day, with television cameras all around the ground as both semi-finals would be played back-to-back. The press box was packed too, and Eoin had been a bit embarrassed earlier when he was shown the newspaper previews, which all insisted that his return was a great boost to Ireland.