‘Bastards!’ Sparrow said aloud as he slammed down the receiver. Sparrow would not get another chance. His only hope was that the first message he gave had been understood. He headed for Stephen’s Green.
* * *
Phoenix Park, 11.00pm
Michael stopped the car outside of the security hut at Áras An Uachtaráin. This beautiful building, formerly the home of the Viceroy of Ireland in the centre of the Phoenix Park was now the home of the President of Ireland. There was a twenty-four hour police guard on the building. When the two detectives pulled up in the car the guard on duty made his way from the security hut to their side window. Michael lowered his window.
‘Good evening, lads, can I help you?’ he asked in a heavy Dublin accent. Quickly Michael explained that they were looking for a bridge in a park and that they had taken the Phoenix Park as their best bet. But the guard shook his head.
‘Well, I’ll tell you where the bridges are here, but if you ask my opinion you’re on the wrong track altogether.’
Kieran leaned across Michael. ‘Why? Where do you think we should be looking?’
The guard took off his hat and looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘Well now, if I was looking for somewhere quiet, in a park that had a bridge, I’d probably be thinking more like Stephen’s Green,’ he said. He didn’t even have time to replace his cap before Kieran had screamed, ‘Go!’
The car did a reverse handbrake turn. At full speed Michael and Kieran belted towards St Stephen’s Green, four miles away.
* * *
St Stephen’s Green, 11.11pm
Sparrow carefully scaled the spiked railings of St Stephen’s Green Park. It had begun to snow again and the fresh blanket meant that his feet simply crunched softly as they landed. Stealthily he made his way through the bushes, crawling in places through undergrowth to a spot where he could be concealed and yet watch the bridge over the small stream that runs through the park. Sparrow crouched low and waited for some sign of life. Within minutes Sparrow heard a rustling sound in the bushes behind him. He sank lower into his hiding place. The rustling got louder as whatever it was came towards him. With the orange street lights for a backdrop, Sparrow saw a dark, shadowy figure getting closer, and closer. As the figure passed by Sparrow’s hiding spot, Sparrow pounced. He placed his hand over the mouth and pulled the figure to the ground. Instinctively he drew his left arm up in the air to punch into the face. He pulled his punch just in time. It was Froggy.
‘Froggy, for Christ’s sake, what the fuck are you doin’ here?’ Sparrow eased his hand off Froggy’s mouth.
Froggy looked terrified. ‘I follow you. Help you. Are the bad mans comin’?’
‘You shouldn’t be here!’ Sparrow was annoyed at this new complication.
‘I help you, Spawoo. We box them?’
‘No, we won’t!’ The thought that went through Sparrow’s mind was that of all the friends he had it had to be the retarded man who was with him in his deepest moment of fear. Sparrow sagged.
Froggy sat up. ‘Spawoo angry with Froggy?’
‘Yes! Sparrow is angry with Froggy,’ Sparrow said, trying not to sound too angry.
‘Spawoo not Froggy’s friend now?’
Sparrow put his arm around Froggy. ‘Yes! Yes, Sparrow still Froggy’s friend.’
Suddenly in the distance Sparrow heard the click of a steel heel-cap. He pushed Froggy to the ground, and crouched down low. Slowly Sparrow raised his head until he could just about make out the bridge. Three figures strolled casually down the path towards the small bridge. Froggy put his head up, but Sparrow pushed him roughly back down and put a finger to his lips. ‘Shush,’ he warned.
Froggy repeated the motion and the sound.
In the dim light that was bleeding in from the street lights outside the park it was hard to tell Teddy Morgan and Bubbles Morgan apart, as both were wearing dark overcoats. But there was no doubt that the stocky man in the tan camel-hair coat with the brown velvet collar was Simon Williams. Sparrow supposed he should be delighted. It had worked, Simon was here. But instead he was terrified. There was no sound of police cars screeching up. No other noises in the bushes of Serious Task Force men stealthily making their way towards the bridge. There was no sound but the click of Simon’s heel as he made his way to the bridge. The entire plan had gone badly wrong. The Morgan brothers were supposed to be incarcerated in a cell somewhere. They weren’t. Kieran Clancy and his Serious Crime Squad were supposed to be here. They weren’t. Froggy was not supposed to be here. He was. The whole thing was a mess.
* * *
Ormond Quay, 11.12pm
‘Task Forces Two and Three, I repeat, St Stephen’s Green, entrance at the Shelbourne Hotel end. Wait for me there. Over,’ Kieran barked into the radio.
‘I could make better speed if you’d let me use my siren and light,’ Michael called to Kieran.
‘No! No sirens, no lights, I don’t want to scare them off!’ Kieran checked his watch. It was 11.13pm. He repeated that same thought into the radio microphone. ‘Task Forces Two and Three – no lights, no sirens. Over.’ Both cars acknowledged receipt of Kieran’s message.
‘Step on it!’ Kieran said to Michael.
‘I have me foot to the floor, what d’you want me to do – take out a hacksaw and cut a hole in the floor?’ Michael called back sarcastically to relieve the tension. In other circumstances Kieran would have laughed. Not this time. Instead he took out his pistol, checked that the cartridge was full, shoved it back up into the handle, and cocked his gun.
* * *
St Stephen’s Green, 11.14pm
Slowly and quietly Sparrow slid out of his jacket. He handed it to Froggy.
‘Froggy, do you want to help Sparrow?’ he asked earnestly. Froggy simply nodded in reply.
‘Okay, see this jacket, Froggy? This is an important jacket. Froggy, stay here and mind this jacket. Okay?’ Again Froggy nodded. The jacket wasn’t at all important, of course, what was important was that Froggy stayed exactly where he was. Sparrow had enough to worry about with his own life, he didn’t need to worry about Froggy’s as well.
‘Stay here and mind jacket, okay?’ Froggy repeated in a whisper. Sparrow curled his hand around the back of Froggy’s neck and pulled Froggy’s head toward his own. When they touched foreheads Sparrow patted Froggy on the side of the face. ‘Good man!’
Sparrow began to crawl through the bushes for a couple of yards. When he felt he was clear of Froggy’s spot and that where he had come from couldn’t be detected, he made for a pathway. He then stood, brushed himself down and casually strolled over to meet the three men. On his way he glanced around. There was no sign of Detective Clancy or anybody else.
Right on the brow of the bridge the four men met face-to-face.
Teddy was the first to speak. ‘Well, well. The little Sparrow is out of his nest!’
Sparrow ignored Teddy and looked directly at Simon Williams. ‘Hello, Mr Williams.’ He spoke casually, as if meeting Simon in a supermarket.
‘Hello, Sparrow. You look a bit rough.’ Williams looked very confident.
Sparrow examined himself. ‘Yeh, well, I’ve been having it kind of rough for the last few days, if yeh know what I mean. Still, it’s over now, isn’t it?’ As he spoke, Sparrow’s eyes never left Simon’s eyes. Sparrow could see the anger there.
‘Indeed it is, Sparrow. Indeed it is.’ Williams spoke through clenched teeth.
Sparrow took his hands from his trouser pockets and held them out by his sides. ‘Sorry to bring you out on a night like tonight, Mr Williams.’ Sparrow looked around while speaking, making it look as if he was checking on the weather. There was no sign of Kieran Clancy. All was quiet.
‘No problem, Sparrow.’ Simon took a step towards Sparrow. ‘Of course, I would like to be partying with Angie, but one must take care of business first!’ He sounded every inch the businessman.
‘Your wife is out partying, Sparrow, in some disco, with some young fellow stuck into her!’
Teddy goaded Sparrow, and both Morgan brothers laughed.
Simon raised a hand. ‘Now, now boys, let’s mind our manners.’
Sparrow gazed at Simon. ‘That’s okay, Mr Williams, yeh don’t expect anything from a pig but a grunt.’
Teddy made to move at Sparrow but Simon placed his hand across Teddy’s chest. ‘Easy, Teddy. I’ll take care of this.’
Sparrow’s mind was now racing. To the left over the bridge was deep water. To the right over the bridge was also deep water. He discounted these two options as points of exit. To run back from where he came meant running at least ten to fifteen yards in a straight line. This was something Sparrow didn’t particularly want to do. Between the three men they had the small bridge blocked on their side. Sparrow made the decision not to plan, but to wing it!
‘So, Mr Williams, did you bring the stuff?’ Sparrow asked.
‘Indeed I did.’ As Simon answered he dug his hands into his coat pockets. From his right-hand pocket he extracted a white envelope.
‘In this pocket I have twenty-five grand.’ Simon had obviously decided to do a commentary. He then extracted his left hand, in which there was a foil-wrapped parcel in a clear plastic bag.
‘And in this pocket,’ he was beginning to sound like a game-show host, ‘one kilo of heroin!’ He put the money and the heroin together in his left hand.
‘Great, I knew you’d bring the stuff,’ Sparrow said.
‘Yes, indeed I did – but you’re not getting it.’
The Morgan brothers smiled simultaneously, like synchronised swimmers.
Sparrow knew this, of course, but he played dumb.
‘What d’yeh mean?’ he asked, like a little kid.
Instead of answering, Simon barked at Bubbles. ‘Search him, Bubbles.’
Bubbles hurriedly walked to Sparrow and began to frisk him. As he was frisking, Simon inserted his hand into an inside pocket and pulled out a revolver.
‘This is what I brought for you, my little Sparrow.’ The pistol had a silencer on it, giving it an exaggerated length. Without further ado Simon pointed the pistol directly at Sparrow. In one movement, as Simon was squeezing the trigger, Sparrow grabbed Bubbles and turned him to face Simon. The gun spat and two slugs buried into Bubbles’s chest. Bubbles looked down at his chest and then up to Simon Williams, his face looking puzzled.
‘Mr Williams?’ were Bubbles’s last words before he passed out. Even as his body was dropping to the ground, Sparrow had taken off like a sprinter. Teddy Morgan immediately ran after him. Simon moved to the edge of the bridge and squeezed off two more shots at Sparrow. The first one ricocheted two feet in front of Sparrow as he ran; Sparrow heard the second one whizz past his ear, giving off a little bang as it broke the sound barrier. Simon Williams, still on the bridge, had gone completely crazy now.
‘Happy New Year, Sparrow! Ha, ha, ha, ha!’ he bellowed into the night air. His eyes were bulging and his face red with frenzied rage.
Very clearly and sharply from out of the bushes beside the bridge came another voice.
‘And a Happy New Year to you, Mr Williams!’
Simon Williams spun towards the source of the voice to find Kieran Clancy, Michael Malone and three uniformed policemen surrounding him, all five of them panting. Kieran Clancy was pointing a pistol at Simon. In his crazed frenzy, Simon raised his pistol, but too late! Kieran’s gun barked off one shot. The bullet caught Simon on the shoulder, cracking his shoulder blade and tearing four inches of muscle apart as it exited. Simon Williams crumpled to the ground with a yelp.
Kieran turned to Michael. ‘Michael, put handcuffs on him and stay with him. You three fan out.’ He shouted to the other policemen: ‘And don’t shoot at anything you don’t recognise!’ This was good advice as the uniformed Gardaí were carrying uzi sub-machine guns, which they only got to carry twice a year, at most. As the Gardaí spread out, Kieran took off, sprinting in the direction he saw Sparrow and Teddy go.
Sparrow was running as fast as he could. As he was bursting through the bushes, they ripped at his face and tore his shirt, and red streaks appeared across his face and chest. He felt no pain. At first when he began to run he could hear Teddy Morgan cursing and swearing behind him; but now he heard nothing. He stopped and listened carefully; there was no sound. I must get to the street, he thought to himself. He began to head for where he saw lights. Within seconds he emerged into an open space. He found himself beside the bandstand in the centre of Stephen’s Green. In the cover of the bandstand he stopped and began to catch his breath; this was difficult as he was crouching, his breath coming in gasps. He surveyed the damage to his clothes, which were now shredded and dirty and speckled with blood. Carefully he ran his shaking hand along the scratches on his face which were oozing blood.
Once he had his breath back he began to inch his way around the bandstand. Just as he got to the steps that led up onto the platform, he heard the metallic click of a revolver being cocked behind him. Slowly he turned. Teddy Morgan was standing no more than ten feet from him. He had a smile on his face and his right arm was extended with the pistol pointed directly at Sparrow’s head.
‘Tweet, fuckin’ tweet,’ Teddy said with a smirk.
* * *
The McCabe home, 11.19pm
Mickey was lying sound asleep in his bed. The only light in his bedroom was that which was spilling in from the landing, as the door was half open. Suddenly, like a flick-knife, the child shot up into a sitting position and screamed.
‘Daddy!’
He was terrified and shaking. His mother’s footsteps came pounding up the stairs. Eileen burst in the bedroom door and took Mickey in her arms.
‘Mickey, are you all right?’
Mickey put his head on her shoulder and held her tightly. ‘Daddy,’ he said softly again.
Eileen hugged her son, rubbing her hand up and down his back. ‘Shush now, Mickey, I’m sure Daddy’s fine.’ She took him by the hand and led him out of the bed and onto the landing.
‘Come on, Mickey, let’s go downstairs and turn on the television. We’ll watch all the people bringing in the New Year.’ She closed the bedroom door, which sent a puff of wind into the bedroom. This blew the curtains away from the window. They brushed lightly against the photograph of Sparrow and it toppled to the floor.
* * *
Bandstand, St Stephen’s Green, 11.20pm
Keeping his eyes at all times on Teddy, Sparrow walked backwards up the steps of the bandstand. Teddy walked after him, keeping the distance between them. In the centre of the bandstand Sparrow stopped, his hands up like in an old cowboy movie. Teddy now walked towards him. The distance was closed down to about two yards.
‘Well, Sparrow, it’s over!’ Teddy sneered.
‘Is it, Teddy? I thought it wasn’t over until the fat lady sings?’ Sparrow was talking smart, but feeling terrified.
Teddy put his hand to the side of his head and cocked his ear in the air. In a mocking tone he said, ‘I think I hear the fat lady clearing her throat.’
From out of the darkness came another voice.
‘No, that was me. I have a cold.’ It was Froggy.
Teddy glanced with a start in the direction Froggy’s voice had come from. Froggy was standing two steps down on the bandstand steps. With Teddy distracted for a second, Sparrow lunged at him, slapping at his wrist. The two men grappled. The gun fell from Teddy’s hand and slid across the bandstand floor towards Froggy. Froggy picked it up and looked at it as the two men wrestled on the ground.
Sparrow called out, ‘Run, Froggy. Run!’
Froggy ran; he didn’t know where, but he ran anyway. He headed for the bushes, where suddenly he was tripped up and floored. Froggy found himself lying on his back with an elbow in his throat. The figure standing over him held a gun to his head and looked just as surprised as he was.
‘Who the fuck are you?’ Kieran Clancy asked.
‘Hawoo. I’m Froggy. Spawoo friend. Are you a good guy or a bad guy?’
Kieran frowned at the question, and then answered it.
‘I’m a good guy.’
‘Here!’ Froggy said and handed Kieran the gun. Kieran took it and pulled Froggy to a standing position.
‘Where are they, Froggy?’ he asked. Froggy pointed in the direction of the bandstand.
Kieran ran towards the bandstand. Halfway there he could make out the two figures standing, now about three yards apart. They seemed to be just looking at each other. He slowed first and then stopped. Froggy arrived and stood beside him. On the bandstand Sparrow and Teddy remained standing apart.
‘Well, well, Teddy, no gun? Oh dear. Are we a little bit scared now?’ Sparrow goaded.
‘Scared of you? Yeh little shit!’ Teddy shouted. He lunged at Sparrow.
Sparrow sidestepped, and Teddy ran straight past him. Sparrow changed his stance to a boxing stance. Teddy smiled and threw off his overcoat.
‘Okay, little champ. Let’s see what yer made of.’ Teddy took up a boxing stance too.
The two men prowled in a circle on the bandstand. Teddy feigned a blow at Sparrow who immediately threw up his guard. Teddy laughed. Sparrow moved forward towards Teddy. After two jabs and a punch to the stomach, Teddy reeled back. But he regained his footing and wiped his mouth. There was blood on his hand. He looked down at it.
‘You’re good!’ Teddy said.
The Scrapper Page 15
