‘Who are ye talkin about? What’s yer name anyway?’ replied Sadie.
‘John Brown and our mutual friend is, sorry was Clara Blackmore.’
‘Oh God help us,’ she screamed in blind panic, all the while backing into the house, trying to close the door in his face but Clements was too strong.
‘Take it easy Sadie, nobody’s gonna hurt ye honest. Calm down will ye, just calm down.’ The terrified woman kept reversing, never taking her eyes off the intruder. ‘What do ye want Mr., please don’t hurt me. Look the kids are at school,
they wont be back for ages. I’ll do what ever ye want,’ she pleaded looking toward the stairs.
‘God I’m sorry Sadie,’ replied Billy, trying to allay the distraught woman’s fears. ‘I swear te God I didn’t come here te harm ye. Look here’s me hand and here’s me heart,’ he said, placing his right hand across his chest. Slowly he moved to a chair by the fire and eased himself into it. Feeling a little less frightened she asked, ‘What is it ye want Mr.? I don’t know nothin.’
‘Clara was yer friend. Do ye not want the bastard who did those terrible things te her and the kids te get what’s comin te him?’
‘Of course I do, what do ye think? Clara was the only real friend I ever had and as for what that animal did te those poor wee children. He deserves…’ Sadie could not finish her tirade as her body was suddenly wrecked by shuddering sobs. Her heart-rending grief sent torrents of tears streaming down scarlet beefy cheeks, streaking them with cheap mascara and giving her the appearance of a grieving clown. Clements was at a loss; he had no experience at comforting the distraught. Still he awkwardly put an arm around the wailing woman’s shoulders rocking her gently to and fro. ‘Please stop crying Sadie, I didn’t come here te upset ye, ye have te believe me. Our only concern is te catch the man who committed this crime. He has te pay Sadie, he has te suffer worse than Clara and her kids.
Her sobs became sniffles as she fought to bring herself under control,
‘Sorry, I thought ye were him. Stupid eh, but I haven’t really slept since that night, ye know how it is.’
‘That’s understandable Sadie. Where do ye keep the tea and stuff? I’ll put the kettle on and we can have a chat after we’ve had a cuppa, alright?’
‘Thanks, I could murder a cup. The kitchen’s through there,’ he was informed, her meaty finger pointing the direction. Like most Irish housewives Sadie believed unwaveringly in the medicinal qualities of tea. Her demeanour changed miraculously after the first swallow.
‘Feelin better love?’asked Billy, showing genuine concern. Encouraged by her timid nod, which accompanied the hint of a smile, he decided to forge on.
‘Okay first question, did ye see her after she arrived back from England?’ Sadie appeared shocked by the question.
‘How do ye know she was over there?’ she queried anxiously, once more on the defensive.
‘She was invited te meet someone, a colleague,’ he lied. ‘Look, let me try te help ye out here. I can see ye still don’t trust me.’ The frightened woman eyed him warily. ‘Right, after George was lifted she received an invitation and some spendin money, correct.’
‘Aye she did,’ answered Sadie suspiciously.
‘And she was confused, so she called ye cause ye’re mates,’ continued Clements. ‘She thought that ye could give her advice seein yer auld man’s in the Kesh.’ Sadie answered his revelations with the slight nod of her hilighted head, still unsure of the stranger’s motives. ‘Ye also told her that someone was probably tryin te see her alright, just as they had done for yerself, when yer man got taken,’ again a nod.
‘Clara’s case was different from your one Sadie. Considerin the circumstances of George’s arrest. The operation was a shambles and we wanted to know why the army were in the area. To be straight we ye Sadie, yer mate was under suspicion. Wait a minute now before ye interrupt,’ demanded Clements, as the woman began to rise from her seat. ‘Don’t get yer knickers in a twist Sadie, we know that Clara had nothin to do we it. Slowly Sadie regained her seat assured that her friend’s honour was not in question. ‘Anyway, we had no way of telling whether or not she was guilty at the time. That was why she was brought over the water, to be questioned. After talkin to her for a bit, it became obvious that she had no idea of George’s outside interests.’
‘I’m beginnin te understand, you people make me sick,’ she spat. ‘No way could it have bin an accident, oh no, somebody had te be a traitor, for yer never wrong. Well ye were wrong twice this time weren’t ye? Poor Clara didn’t even know yon fucker was capable of bein a member. I hate te speak ill of the dead but if he and the likes of ye went out and worked for a livin, she would be alive today. Jasus, she was so upset when the peelers wrecked her wee house, she went to the citizens advice bureau to ask what te do. Where were the brave boys then eh?’ she screamed, disintegrating once more to tears. ‘If she had known he was a member she would have coped better with the situation. She would have tried to get in contact we ye. Come te think of it, that would have put the cap on it. Guilty as charged. After yer bloody package arrived she was nearly at her wit’s end and that’s when she rang me. I hurried over when I heard the state of her on the phone. It was me who told her about help from ye know where. Oh Christ I suppose that makes me a tout now, is that why yer here?’
‘No Sadie, that’s not it at all. As a matter of fact what ye have just said is exactly what she told us, word for word. No one is blamin ye for helpin a friend in need. The only reason I am here is te possibly pick up a clue as te who killed her, honest. Now to get back to the first question. Did ye see or speak te her after she got home?’ No I feel guilty about that,’ answered the bedraggled housewife, ‘I got some messages in for her but when I got te her house I realised that I had left her key on the mantle-piece. I had te get te town for the sales, the boy needed new shoes. Ye know how it is. Anyway I left the carrier bag on the doorstep with a note explainin the problem and promised te ring her that night. One thing led te another and I didn’t get the chance. So the last time we spoke was before she left for England.’
‘She never called when she got in?’
‘No I told ye, she probably never got the chance. God I hope that bastard rots in hell,’ which was the cue for a fresh outburst of weeping.
‘Sorry I had te put ye through that, it must be desperate for ye but we have te know every detail if we are gonna catch the bastard. If anything strange comes back te ye, anything at all givus a bell. Here’s a contact number Sadie,’ he offered quickly, scribbling on a piece of paper. ‘I don’t have te tell ye not te mention it te anybody. One last thing, how are ye fixed for cash? Do ye need anything? What about the house? It looks like a coat of paint wouldn’t go amiss, if ye don’t mind me sayin.’
‘Naw the auld place is all right but I could always use a few bob. I’ve bin on the bones of me arse for two years. The kids are gettin bigger and it’s hard to keep up we shoes and the like. The wee buggers keep growin outa them, ye know how it is, There she had said it again, the fact was, Clements had not an inkling of how it was, he was oblivious to the cost of raising a family but was beginning to understand. ‘Say no more love, some-one will be round te give ye a wee hand and regards the cash ye can rest assured that matter will be taken care of right away. Well then, best of luck Sadie. If we catch him ye’ll be the first te know.’ Clements was up and through the door before she could say a another word. ‘I don’t know what te make of him, still every cloud has a silver lining,’ she said, as she observed the stranger disappear behind the tattered hedge.
Making his way to the main road Billy mulled over the events of the past week. The more he thought about it the more convinced he was that the IRA could not possibly be involved with the Blackmore deaths. His hatred for the republican movement was deep rooted but he had an undeniable respect for its members. ‘This atrocity was not their doin, I’m sure
of it,’ he muse aloud. He assumed that the murder of the postman was somehow tied into the equation but how? Why would anyone want to torture innocent children? Clements was beginning to realise what a sick mess he had become involved in. Convinced that he was dealing with a maniac, he pondered, how do nutters think? What is the catalyst that makes them behave the way they do? If the killer is a homosexual, why would he make the boy have sex with his sister? What perverted pleasure would he derive from watching that? Fear and frustration were eating at him. The inability to formulate a plan of attack was a nightmare. How was he going to achieve something that he had absolutely no training for? He concluded that he needed assistance. Some form of guideline to follow. The realisation of his ineptitude forced him to consider his only option. A meeting with his superior was imminent and that is where he must make John aware of his shortcomings. Decision made he strode purposely to his vehicle and onward to his own side of town where he would down a few pints and try to forget the whole sorry affair, at least for tonight.
CHAPTER 26
A glorious spring sun reflected from the windscreen of Black’s car as it disembarked from the ferry at Larne harbour. His mood was sombre, being preoccupied with his next plan of attack, as he sped along the dual carriageway toward Belfast. The port of Larne faded from view.He glanced in the rear view mirror to see its twin high-rise blocks that would soon become a memory. Hedgerows replaced concrete but the landscape slipped past unnoticed by the killer. Having determined his latest objective Nathan was pondering on the possible hazards that may arise during the mission. He had started thinking of the brutality as a kind of extension to his crusade therefore his actions wholly justifiable. Carrickfergus with it’s medieval castle and historical import was gone in a flash, discarded without thought by the Englishman. As he entered the apartment the lap top computer, his conveyance to the ultimate goal, was summoned immediately to life. His face creased as the gadget flickered into action. Punching in the password he was rewarded by the contraption’s sensual greeting. ‘Welcome my avenging angel,’ it purred.
‘Good afternoon my pet,’ replied Black. With each passing day hatred was devouring all sense of reality, replacing it with an insatiable lust for vengeance. ‘To work,’ he muttered. ‘Breen, Hubert, serving thirty years for the bombing of a public bar in Lurgan, thereby bringing about the deaths of several people. Taking into consideration numerous crimes the recommended sentence was life imprisonment. Married with five children all under the age of seventeen. ‘Perfect, absolutely perfect,’ purred Nathan, scanning through the transcript. With a smirk he decided to inspect the Breen family home, which was situated on the outskirts of Belfast. ‘We must keep an even balance,’ he sniggered, ‘Don’t want to be accused of racism do we. First a Protestant and now a Catholic. Let’s hope you are made of sterner stuff than that cowardly bastard Blackmore, Mr. Breen. Sensuously he drew the back of his hand across the screen before shutting down. Concentrating on his next task he rigged up a tape deck via the audio output of his video recorder, chuckling as he struggled to decipher some of the colloquialisms of the local statesmen. He was compiling another tape that was to be played to the reporter, What was his name? It began with a D, Dane that was it, Walter Dane. Well Mr. Dane I am about to make you famous. One of these days I may even grant you a personal interview,’ he cackled.
Antrim Road transforms from commercial buildings at the city end to terraced housing as it reaches for the suburbs, becoming semi-detached residences a mile or so further along. The change is quite dramatic as one leaves behind the industrial housing constructed, to accommodate mill workers, toward the end of the nineteenth century. Continuing on, one enters an area, which boasts the residences of their former employers and other professionals. The once cherished abodes of the aristocracy have alas seen better days and most are merely a shadow of their former glory but it is sill easy to imagine their elegance considering the size of the sweeping lawns. Black was seeking a cul-de-sac situated away from the main road in close proximity to the zoological gardens, another reminder of Victorian splendour. Bellevue was constructed to educate the Belfast populace about the animal habitation of foreign fields. Unfortunately it’s residents are as sparse and aged as the structures that house them. Nevertheless it did and still does afford a pleasant interlude on rare sunny afternoons. Taking in as much as he could, without drawing attention to himself, he cruised past the enclave at a leisurely pace. He made a mental note of landmarks or any possible hindrance to escape, should one be necessary. Satisfied that he was fully conversant with the geography, he drove on to the zoo where he spent the remainder of the afternoon. Darkness approached bringing with it a chill to the air and causing Nathan to give an animated shiver. Glancing at his timepiece, he smirked, donned his overcoat and made for the exit. He had noticed a bar across from the
zoo on his earlier reconnoitre of the area and decided to make it his next port of call. Cheered by the pub’s warm atmosphere he chose a suitable table and waited patiently to be served. A pretty girl appeared, commented on the change in the weather and proffered a menu. It was rather too early for dinner so he opted instead for a sandwich and large scotch. ‘Yes it has turned colder dear, but you are positively glowing.’ The girl smiled, accepting the remark as a compliment. ‘It’s always warm in here sir,’ he was politely informed, ‘I’ll be back in a tick with your drink.’
‘That would be wonderful, thank-you very much young lady.’ His choice of a roast beef filling was a wise one and he devoured it with relish. I really must eat at proper times, thought Black, silently admonishing himself for being hungry at such an early hour. Sipping his drink the Englishman glowered at his watch. Too early to visit the Breen residence,’ he mused, ‘Far too early,’ he muttered, confirming the thought audibly. The waitress was treated to one of his most expansive smiles as she approached, ‘Marvellous sandwich miss, I’ll pay now if that is agreeable.’
‘No problem sir,’ replied the young lady pleasantly. She produced the bill with a flourish, Nathan following in her wake to the bar where the cash register took pride of place. Producing the required amount he settled the debt before turning to the waitress. ‘Thank-you for a most pleasant repast, and delivered with such grace.
My compliments to the management,’ he enthused, before slipping a large tip into her hand.
‘Thank-you sir,’ she preened, ‘Call again soon.’
‘In a pigs eye you silly little bitch,’ whispered Nathan, as he exited the bar.
‘Shit Jimmy, what did ye think of him?’ bubbled the girl.
‘Not my type love, I prefer bigger tits,’ replied the barman sulkily, as he skimmed the head from a pint of Guinness which was settling on the counter. Nathan spent the rest of the evening at a local cinema theatre watching without conviction, a trite comedy that flaunted the limited talents of the latest female icon. His mind was firmly set on other things, namely the Breen family. He was picturing in his mind’s eye what the interior would be like. Presently, having lost all interest in the movie, he promptly left. His face twisted into a leer as he recalled the computer’s information. Four girls and one boy, ‘Wonderful, that should make this apathetic shower sit up and take notice.’ He sat in the car anticipating the pleasures that his evening with the unsuspecting family would hold. Slowly his hand slid to his crotch. Dragging himself from his reverie he started the vehicle, ‘A quick run to the house of the living dead, then over to my little friend’s place I think,’ he muttered, smirking as he pulled away. ‘Oh what a night,’ he sang, as he exited the
cinema’s parking area. Turning right he drove to the home of his intended victims.
The place was deathly quiet, it’s silence broken only by the swish of leaves disturbed by a gentle breeze which swirled through the trees foliage overhanging the kerb. ‘I adore trees,’ he told himself, as he scrutinised the number of each dwelling in turn. ‘Fourteen, sixteen, eighteen, twenty, ah here we are, home sw
eet home,’ he uttered maliciously. ‘There’s no place like home for a holocaust,’ he sang, as the madness took hold. Bay windows gave the inhabitants an uninterrupted view of Belfast Lough. From the front gate Nathan turned to take in the scene. One of the numerous ferries was gliding noiselessly toward the Lough’s entrance from where it would pick up speed as it made for the Scottish port of Stranraer. Returning to matters at hand he sauntered on. Noticing a BMW parked in the driveway prompted him to pass another verbal comment, ‘Nice motor, terrorism pays well.’ Downstairs, lights were burning, affording the assassin a comprehensive view of the lounge. A woman in her early forties was wagging an angry finger at a youth, who was quite obviously ignoring her tirade. By her side, presumably adding moral support stood a tallish girl. Black continued casually strolling up the street, glancing in both directions. To the casual observer he was searching for a particular household but there was not a soul to be seen. Retracing his steps he reached the Breen’s gate. To his surprise he was knocked almost sideways by the irate teenager as he ran from the house. ‘Sorry.’ he said.
‘Fuck you,’ was the boy’s curt reply. The youth glowered at Nathan but realising that the man was much taller and could probably beat the shit out of him opted to let the matter drop. The boy spat at the stranger’s feet before running off in the direction of the main road. Black was amused by the incident. ‘You’ve a lot of spirit my boy. It will be a delightful pleasure breaking you in,’ he whispered maliciously but his comments went unheard as the wind had picked up forcing the branches overhead to sing their own lament. Satisfied that he had seen enough and he would incur few problems he returned to the comfort of his car. His mind was on the Breen boy as he typed his friend’s number into the mobile. ‘How are you my pet, guess who?’ he purred. ‘I’ll be over shortly, be sure to have it warm for me.’
Seeds of Evil Page 17
