by Neal Martin
Edger nodded. "They should leave you alone now," he said, as he put bits of broken crockery into a steel pedal bin. "Sorry about the damage. They kicked your back door in as well."
"I know. I heard."
"You should really look into getting proper doors and windows fitted, Mr. McCrory." Edger knew he was wasting his breath saying that. The old man could doubtless afford the expense of having full UPVC doors and windows fitted. That was part of the problem in a lot of the houses being targeted by these gangs. Too easy to break into. If the old man's door had of been UPVC, Speedy would have never been able to kick it in as easily as he did.
"The council are supposed to replace them all. Haven't got round to me yet. Useless bastards, you know."
Edger smiled. "Why don't you go on back to bed. I'll sort things out here for you. I'll arrange for someone to come around later today and fix your door."
The old man held out a shaky hand, his gnarly fingers holding a few scrunched up ten pound notes. "It's not much. I can get you more."
"I don't want money, Mr. McCrory, honestly. You hold on to that."
"You did a job, so you did. You need paying."
"Not at all. I get enough."
The old man smiled, showing crooked, yellowed teeth. "You're a good man, Harry. You were a soldier, aye?"
"I was."
"I served myself for twenty years. Irish army. Best time of my life, so it was."
Edger smiled and nodded. He couldn't help wondering if he was going to end up as frail and helpless as the old man one day. He guessed it was inevitable. Life was just a slow crawl towards dying after all, and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it. He should have died half a dozen times over the years, but somehow, he didn't. Which often made him wonder why. Why was he so special? Or was it just dumb luck that he was still walking around?
Before leaving, Edger made sure the old man got back to bed okay, and reassured him that he didn't have to worry about Speedy and his gang anymore, but that if anything happened, he should contact Edger right away. "You're a rare breed, son," the old man said.
Outside on the front street, Edger stopped by his car, a silver Skoda, and looked around for a moment, a sudden feeling of being watched having made him pause. The street was quiet, full of parked cars, but no people. None that he could see anyway. Shaking his head, he put the feeling down to still being on edge after the confrontation with Speedy.
He got into the car and drove off.
Tiredness set in on the drive home to his apartment in South Belfast, and the heat in the car kept making him yawn. Edger couldn't wait to fall into bed when he got home. Later that morning, he was due to pick up his daughter, Kaitlin. Most of his Saturdays in the last six months had been spent with Kaitlin. This week's outing was to Dublin Zoo, which meant he would have to leave early to pick Kaitlin up and then drive for nearly two hours to Dublin. Not that he minded. He was glad to be able to spend time with a daughter that he had only been getting to know for the last eight months, having been completely absent from her life since she was born twelve years ago, a fact that he was doing his best to make up for now.
It was after 2:00 a.m. when he got home. The apartment was chilly when he got in, but he didn't turn on the heating. The Northern Irish climate was still a refreshing change to him, having spent the last decade or more in parts of the world that could only be described as hotter than hell. He had been back in Belfast now for over a year, and he didn't miss the relentless, unbearable heat of the foreign climates he had worked in. People in Northern Ireland moaned all the time about the weather, but he never did. Changeable weather was better than baking heat every day, all day, and the hellish swarms of flies that came along with it. God, the flies. He often thought that if hell existed it had to be home to great swarms of flies that never stopped buzzing.
Edger had done nothing to the apartment to make it his own since he bought it a year ago. The whole place had been furnished already, so he didn't need to do anything to it or buy very much for it. It was open plan, with a decent sized living room, small kitchen and two bedrooms. The smaller bedroom belonged to Kaitlin so she had somewhere to sleep when she stayed over. The only thing Edger really added to the place was the book case in the living room that he had been steadily filling with books since he got it. In his free time all he did was read. The only reason he put a TV in the apartment was to keep Kaitlin happy. She liked to watch her DVDs when she came to stay.
The apartment also came with a balcony that afforded a view of the River Lagan which flowed along not fifty feet from the apartment complex itself. Edger poured himself a glass of Glennfiddich and went outside to the balcony, where he sat in a green coloured garden chair next to a small table. On the table was a dog eared copy of Le Stranger that he had forgotten to bring in the last time he was out there. Luckily it hadn't rained since. The Camus novel had sentimental value. It was the first French language book he ever bought when he went to join the Legion. He figured at the time it might help him learn the language. It was a book he had read numerous times since and it still gave him a strange kind of solace when he read it even now.
Taking a pouch of rolling tobacco from his jacket, he proceeded to roll himself a cigarette on the small table. When he lit the cigarette with a silver zippo lighter he had been carrying with him for the last twenty years or more, he stared out towards the darkly flowing river nearby. It was a nightly ritual for him to sit out there and look at the water. He found it calming, and it often reminded him of the great River Congo, over which he had helped build bridges on his first overseas assignment with the Foreign Legion. He couldn't remember ever being happier than he was at that time. Everything had seemed so simple and straight forward. But he was also just a kid back then. Barely nineteen. What the hell did he know about life at that age anyway, especially the life of a professional soldier? How could he have known of what was to come over the next two decades?
Edger finished his cigarette and stubbed it out in the glass ashtray that sat on the table, then he proceeded to roll himself another one to go with the rest of his drink. As he sat smoking and gazing out over the balcony, something caught his attention on the far side of the river. An intermittent orange glow, as if someone was standing on the bank of the river smoking a cigarette. Edger squinted into the darkness, but there wasn't enough light to make out the shape of anyone standing there, even though he knew there was definitely someone there.
A cold feeling came over him, a feeling he knew well, and one which he had learned to pay attention to over the years. It was a feeling he got when something wasn't right. When there was danger nearby.
The orange glow on the far side of the river appeared and disappeared for another minute or so before stopping altogether.
It could have been anybody standing over there. It was Friday night after all, and there was always plenty of drunks about at that time, especially with so many students living nearby in Stranmillis. Still, Edger felt uneasy as he finished the rest of his drink. He couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him, a feeling he had experienced more than a few times over the last couple of months, the most recent being back in the Poleglass estate outside the old man's house. And now, less than an hour later, there appeared to be someone watching him from across the river. It may have been paranoia on his part, a symptom of living in war zones for most of his life, but he didn't think so. Besides, he had been an operator for long enough now to know that there was no such thing as paranoia when it came to personal security.
What worried him more as he stood up and walked back into the apartment, was the possibility that he was right, and that there was someone following him around and watching him from a distance. If that was the case, then who was it and what did they want?
Experience told him he would find out soon enough.
CHAPTER THREE
Dressed in dark jeans, black T-shirt and short black leather jacket, Edger left his apartment at 8 a.m. after showering and drinking t
wo cups of coffee. He didn't bother with breakfast, as he was taking Kaitlin to their favourite cafe on Botanic Avenue before the two of them hit the road for Dublin. Outside, the sky was grey and overcast. At least it wasn't raining, in Belfast at least. Who knows what the weather would be like in Dublin today? Not that Kaitlin would mind the rain, as long as she got to see the zoo animals she adored so much.
As he walked across the private car park to his car, Edger paused for a second as he opened the car door and looked briefly around, still slightly spooked after seeing the mysterious figure across the river the night before.
Relax, will you? Enjoy the day with your daughter.
He shook his head and got in the car.
Before he went to pick up Kaitlin, Edger drove to Donegal Square, parking the car outside the building opposite Belfast City Hall. He entered the brownstone office building and took the elevator to the top floor, whereupon he walked to the office at the end of the corridor, the one which had RANKIN INVESTIGATIVE SERVICES AND SECURITY stencilled on the glass of the door. He walked in to find his boss, John Rankin, sitting behind a desk, the roof of the city hall building looming through the window behind him.
Rankin was a man in his early fifties, an ex-military cop who served most of his career in the Specialist Operations Regiment, before moving into the private sector five years ago. His dark, slicked back hair was streaked with grey, and his brown eyes were heavily lidded, giving him a brooding presence that many often found intimidating. Edger, being an ex-military man himself, didn't find Rankin intimidating at all. In fact, the two men had a close mutual respect for each other since they first met a year ago, which is one of the reasons Rankin decided to hire Edger. The older man—dressed not in his normal dark suit, but in jeans and blue open necked shirt—looked surprised to see Edger. "What are you doing here?" he asked. "I thought you were seeing Kaitlin today."
"I am," Edger said as he walked to the desk and sat in the chair opposite. "I only came to give you this." He took a flash drive out of his pocket and handed it to Rankin.
Rankin took the flash drive and inserted it into his laptop.
Edger waited.
Rankin slowly shook his head as he stared at the screen. "Jesus Christ."
"I don't think Jesus would approve."
"She's fucking a priest?"
"She is."
Rankin shook his head again as he went through the pictures Edger had taken only yesterday. "I see he likes it kinky as well."
Edger looked at the half smile on Rankin's face, and the two men couldn't help laughing. "What do you think the client will say?"
Rankin snorted. "His wife is fucking a priest of all people behind his back. What do you think he'll say?"
"Praise the Lord?"
"Fuck off, Harry. It's me that has to show the poor man these pictures."
"Check out the last couple."
Rankin pursed his lips. "On the altar like a fucking sacrificial lamb." His mouth dropped open as he viewed the last picture. "Is he feeding her the Eucharist?"
Edger nodded. "He is."
"How'd you even get these?"
"I hid in one of the confessional booths at the back of the church."
"Well," Rankin said, pulling the flash drive out and putting it in a drawer in his desk. "The client wanted proof of an affair, he got it. Though I have a feeling he'll wish he didn't when he sees these photographs."
"Not our problem."
"No, it isn't." Rankin leaned back in his chair, rubbed the ever present growth of beard on his face. "You go round to that aul boy's house last night?"
Edger nodded.
"And?"
"Let's just say Mr. McCrory won't be getting any more trouble."
"Good. Glad to hear it. Man like that deserves a bit of peace. I'm telling you, kids these days should be made to enlist for a year. That'll sort them out."
"They wouldn't stick it," Edger said, thinking back to the training he went through in the Legion when he was eighteen. "They don't deserve it either."
"Probably not, Harry. So what's the plans for today then?"
Edger stood up. "Dublin Zoo."
Rankin smiled. "Haven't been there since I was kid. How about you stay here and I take Kaitlin down instead?"
"No thanks. You've a boy band to look after tonight anyway."
"Don't remind me. My daughter wants autographs as well."
"Who's doing it with you?"
"Young Jason. He hasn't much CP experience, but no one else is available."
"You know I'd be there if I wasn't seeing my daughter."
"I know, Harry. Go on. Go get your daughter. Enjoy the zoo. I'll see you Monday."
Edger left the office building and drove to his ex-wife's house to pick up his daughter. He married his ex-wife Gemma fourteen years ago, but the marriage had only lasted two. She had since remarried and divorced again. Now it was just her and their daughter, Kaitlin, which is as far as Edger could make out, is the way Gemma liked it. The house was situated in Wellington Park Avenue, just off the upmarket Malone Road area. Edger took the Lisburn Road direction. Traffic was already building up on the busy street as the Saturday morning crowds began to assemble in preparation for the shops opening. Edger turned the car left of the main road and drove into Wellington Park Avenue, stopping outside the three storey end of terrace house where his ex-wife lived.
Gemma greeted him at the front door after he knocked. She stood with a coffee mug in her hand, dressed in blue satin pyjama bottoms and a low cut white top, her long red hair spilling down over it. Her hazel eyes looked sleepy still, like she hadn't long gotten out of bed. Every time he saw her, he couldn't help but marvel at how good she looked. She had always been beautiful and she only seemed to get more so with age. Even at forty, she still looked better than most women half her age. "Morning, Harry," she said, giving him half a smile. "Missy is ready and waiting for you." She walked down the hallway into the living room as he entered the house and closed the door behind him.
Kaitlin was sitting on the large red fabric sofa watching TV as he walked into the living room. "Hi Harry," she said, smiling sweetly at him, a smile that never failed to melt his heart every time he saw it. It didn't bother him that she didn't call him Dad or Daddy. He didn't deserve that title yet anyway, if he ever would. You don't call someone Dad who has only been in your life for less than a year.
"Hey sweetheart," he said, sitting on the sofa beside her. "Ready for a day at the zoo?"
"I can't wait. I'm also starving. I hope we're going for breakfast first."
"Of course we are. What kind of man do you take me for?"
Kaitlin smiled and stood up. She was tall for her age, taking after him in that respect. While he doubted she would ever match his six feet three inches, he had no doubt she would certainly tower over most people if she kept growing the way she was. She also had her mothers long red hair, which was tied back in a ponytail, and she had on a red sweater and light blue jeans. "I'll get my shoes and coat on."
She left the room to go into the hallway, and Edger looked over at Gemma, who was snuggled into a huge rounded arm chair, her legs curled up underneath her as she cradled her over-sized coffee mug. "How's things?" he asked her.
"Fine," she said, giving him a smile that he felt was half forced. "Bit tired. Long week at the university with all the new starts."
Gemma was a lecturer in sociology at Queens University, a position she had held for the last ten years. She was also one of the smartest people he knew, which was one of the things that drew him to her in the first place all those years ago. Too smart to ever be with him, he always thought. "Any plans for today?"
"I have a load of work to get through." She sipped on her coffee and rested her head back on the seat. "After that, nothing."
"You're welcome to come along, you know."
Their eyes met for a second. There was a sharpness in hers. "No," she said, like it wasn't even a possibility. "Just be with your daughter, Harry."
<
br /> Edger nodded and shifted in his seat as a familiar feeling of guilt washed over him. He had left her after two years of marriage. Left her while she was still pregnant with Kaitlin. He had accepted that she would probably never forgive him for that, but it it hurt nonetheless when he saw the bitterness still in her eyes. He was glad when Kaitlin came into the room again, wearing a dark coat and white sneakers, carrying a small backpack. "I'm ready," she beamed.
Harry smiled at her and stood up. Kaitlin went to her mother and they both hugged each other tight, Gemma smoothing Kaitlin's hair and smiling sadly like her daughter was heading away for a week. "You be good for Harry, you hear me?"
"I will," Kaitlin said, pulling herself out of her mother's grasp. "And I have my phone. I'll take lots of pictures at the zoo."
"Okay. You do that. And have fun."
"We always have fun, don't we Harry?"
Edger nodded, uncomfortable under his ex-wife's gaze.
"Alright then," Gemma said. "Off you go."
Edger looked back at Gemma before he left, like he always did on these occasions. "I'll look after her. Don't worry."
Gemma gave him a tight smile in return, but said nothing.
The blue Ford Mondeo sat just down the street from Gemma McGuire's house. The man known as Blutwolf sat inside the car and watched as Harry Edger walked out of the house with his daughter walking beside him.
Blutwolf watched as Edger looked up and down the street as he held the front passenger door open for his daughter while she climbed inside the car. Edger then walked around to the driver's side of the silver Skoda, pausing to look up and down the street again one more time before getting into the car himself.
He knows. He knows someone is following him.
