He seems to have a grin on his face as he points the gun at me. I’m pretty certain, even though I didn’t hear, that his partner in crime has just ordered him to kill me. I think about screaming and shouting but for some reason I’m quiet. I believe he isn’t really going to do it. He can’t do it.
That’s a fake gun, right?
‘Any last requests?’ he asks.
12:00
Jack
Here he is! He has the phone to his ear as he rushes towards the car, hugging the final two cases with his other hand. They’re not even cuffed to his wrists. He’s obviously pleading with Darragh. He jumps into the back of the car without noticing John slumped in the passenger seat.
‘My apartment, John, quick as you can,’ he says before realising it’s not John he aimed that demand at.
I don’t hesitate. I dig the taser under his arm and squeeze the trigger. He falls flat into the gap between the front and back seats. Perfect! I turn the key in the ignition and pull away slowly, noticing that nobody has followed Vincent out of the bank.
I’ve done it! I’ve fuckin’ done it!
The rush feels insane. As I’m pulling away, Darragh calls.
‘JR, he’s out, he’s out. We’ve done it,’ he yelps. ‘He said he’ll be back here in less than ten minutes.’
‘Game over, Darragh,’ I say. ‘It’s midday now and he’s not back. Do your job.’
‘Sorry?’ he asks, puzzled.
I didn’t think he’d be. I figured he couldn’t wait to blow Ryan’s head off.
‘I’ll look after Vincent from here. I’ll get the money. But kill Ryan. Vincent missed the deadline. We stick to our plan.’
‘But he’ll be … Vincent is … he’ll be here in a few minutes with all the money.’
‘It’s midday and he’s not back at the apartment. Do your job.’
‘But I … Really?’
‘Stick to the plan!’ I say, raising my voice a little.
‘Of course, JR. I’ll do it now.’ I know he’ll do it. But I’m not taking any risks.
‘I’ll stay on the line. Let me hear you do it,’ I say.
I’ve always trusted Darragh to carry out the murder. His eyes lit up when I first told him about this whole plan. He kept telling me I was a genius over and over again. Maybe he’s right. It is a pretty smart plan. I told him as much as I possibly could. He knows I have two getaway cars parked up in different areas of Dublin. I wanted to sound legitimate to him at every opportunity. I certainly achieved that. He never guessed for one minute that I was setting him up. As soon as I hang up from Darragh, I call the cops.
‘There’s something huge going down at the penthouse of Arbour Building on Horse Fair. A man is holding another man at gunpoint. He’s probably already killed him. You need to get there as soon as possible,’ I say in one long breath.
‘Okay, sir, please calm down. Can you stay on the line?’ It’s unbelievable how cool these emergency operators remain in circumstances like these. But I know this woman has already ordered a police car to arrive at Vincent and Ryan’s penthouse through the push of a button.
‘No, I can’t stay on the line. This is very real, ma’am,’ I say. ‘You need to be quick.’
‘A police car is on its way right now, sir,’ she says. ‘But if you can stay on the line to give me—’ I don’t let her finish. I hang up. I have to call Darragh back. It’s an important part of the plan. I wait two minutes before making the call.
‘Darragh,’ I say, deliberately sounding panicked.
‘Yeah, JR?’
‘Where are ya, buddy?’
‘I’m just headin’ out of the apartment now. Everythin’ alrigh’? What’s wrong…’
‘The cops are coming. I think Vincent, the fag bastard, had somebody call the cops. You need to get out of there as soon as possible.’
‘Wha’ the fuck? Comin’ here, ya mean?’
‘Yeah. On their way to the penthouse. You should be fine. Get out as quickly as you can. Darragh, listen to me. Best of luck, buddy, okay. And remember, whatever happens, stick to the plan.’
I can’t keep the smile off my face as I drive down Sherriff Street to head towards East Wall. That’s where I have my second car parked up. That’s my job done. I’ve no more calls to make. All I have to do is slot this car in behind the grey Toyota Corolla that I have waiting for me and transfer the money into the boot. The cops should be arriving at the apartment any minute now. It’s touch and go whether Darragh will make it out before they come. But even if he does, they’ll catch up with him within minutes. I’ve spent a large amount of time wondering whether he’ll try to shoot himself out of this situation or just hold his hands up. I’d prefer he spent the rest of his life in prison over a quick death. But I made my peace with both possibilities a long time ago.
As I turn onto East Road, I look at the clock on the dashboard. 12:08. I’m so good with time. I think I have a natural clock in my head. This morning couldn’t have gone any more perfectly. I slowly roll the BMW into the space behind the Corolla and take the first two cases Vincent dropped in the back of this car with me as I get out. I take a good look around the street as I do this, but I know nobody will be lurking here. It’s too remote. It takes me two more trips from car to car before I have all eight cases flung into the Corolla. Vincent and John are still out cold in their car. They will probably start to come round in another fifteen minutes or so. A flutter of relief runs through my body when I drive away. It’s not that I didn’t think the car would start, it’s just that driving away in this car confirms the robbery went as planned. There’s no way I’ll be caught from here. Even when the cops are on this case they won’t be looking for a grey Toyota Corolla in Dublin. I smile at myself in the rear-view mirror as I pull out onto Alfie Byrne Road and head north. I’ve one more car stop to do before heading for Belfast.
12:00
Darragh
I shouldn’t be surprised that JR still ordered me to kill Ryan. I guess he’s right. Vincent’s instructions were to be back here by midday, not to be coming out of the last bank at that time. I gotta stick to the plan. I don’t think Ryan knows what’s comin’. He’s very quiet for someone who’s about to have their brains blown out. I screw the silencer onto the barrel of the gun after I place the phone on the arm of the sofa with JR listening in. Then I point the silencer between Ryan’s eyes.
‘Any lasts requests?’ I say, really cool, before firing a bullet through his head.
His chin just rests on his chest after the shot. I’m amazed at the lack of blood. It was the same with the sick rapist I killed a few months ago. The small amount of blood from a headshot is really surprising. I always assumed it’d be a mess. That’s not the case. Maybe that’s the difference between movies and real life. I grab a fistful of his hair to lift his head up, just so I can make sure there are no signs of life.
‘Rest in peace, fag,’ I whisper into his ear before dropping his head back down.
‘Job done, JR,’ I say into the phone.
‘Excellent, Darragh. I’ll see you tomorrow as planned, okay?’
‘You got it.’
I feel high as a kite as I begin to pack my bag to leave. I notice the broken tape on the chair under Ryan and tut. That was me only mistake of the day. It’s disappointing but I’ll learn from it. At least I sorted out the mess. The morning has gone almost perfectly for me. I got the job done. Here I am. It’s midday and I’m a multi-fuckin’-millionaire, just as JR promised I would be. I’m almost skippin’ out the door with pride when the phone buzzes.
‘Darragh,’ JR says in such a way that it frightens me.
‘Yeah, JR?’
‘Where are ya, buddy?’
‘I’m just headin’ out of the apartment now. Everythin’ alrigh’? What’s wrong…’
‘The cops are coming.’
I can’t believe what he’s saying to me. I’m so stunned that it almost stops me in me tracks but I gotta keep moving. I need to get the fuck outta her
e.
‘You should be fine,’ says JR, tryna keep me calm. ‘Get out as quickly as you can. Darragh, listen to me. Best of luck, buddy, okay. And remember, whatever happens, stick to the plan.’
Holy fuck!
I can’t help but take a look at Ryan’s body hanging off the chair before I slam the front door of their apartment behind me. I can’t take the lift. At least getting down the stairs will be easier than comin’ up. With me bag thrown over me shoulder I bounce as quickly as I can down each step. I bet it was that Noah what’s-’is-name that rang the cops. JR always said he’d be the troublesome one. I started the day feeling a mix of nerves and excitement. That’s certainly how I’m feeling now. I’ve just killed another man. That’s three on me list now. But this is the closest I’ve been to gettin’ caught. I have no idea how long it will take the cops to get here.
I’m almost on the ground floor when I get me answer. The sirens ring through me ear. It’s the scariest sound I’ve ever heard. I’ve been frightened before but this is proper fuckin scary. It’s a really, really strange feeling to be properly frightened. Your stomach turns. I can feel fear inside me body. I hold me hand out in front of me to see how much it’s shaking. Quite a lot. I’m normally cool. I manage to get meself into the cramped staff area I broke into this morning when I hear the cops screech outside and make their way into the lobby. I don’t fuckin’ believe this. I’m literally trapped. I have to think my way out of this mess. My only option is to sneak back up the stairs to break into another apartment. I could probably hide out there until the cops go. But surely they’ll check each apartment. Staying here is probably me best bet. At least I can hear them from here if I press me ear up against the door.
‘Everything okay?’ I hear one booming cop’s voice say.
The receptionist is quite quiet. I can’t hear her response but I get the feelin’ she’s surprised by all this. So am I. Everything had gone perfectly right up until the last minute, literally. Now I’m about ten feet away from bein’ arrested for murder. I stare at the gun in my hand. I know I’ve five bullets left in the round. That should be enough to get rid of a couple of cops. But I know that’s the stupid decision to make. I wonder what JR would do in this situation. He gave me strict instructions to get away from the rapist’s house a few months ago but I have no instructions for leaving this place. We never thought it would get to this. I’m just supposed to return home now. I’m conscious of the mobile phone in me pocket but I can’t ring JR. If I can hear them talking in the reception area then they would surely hear me.
I’m lookin’ for ways of hiding in this small room when I hear another cop car pull up outside. I’m really fucked now. I’ve gone from being high as a kite to practically shittin’ meself. I feel me stomach again. I genuinely need to shite right now. I notice the empty bucket I tripped over this morning. Shitting shouldn’t be at the forefront of me mind, but I can’t hold it in. Maybe it will relieve some of the tension. Sometimes I do me best thinkin’ on the jacks. I hear the ping of the elevator arriving on the ground floor and I know the cops are on their way up to the fags’ apartment. They’re gonna find Ryan’s body and call for more backup. They’re bound to search every inch of this place. I loosen me belt, pull down me jeans and squat over the bucket. Me stomach rumbles as my ass practically pukes. I really am sick with worry. Me hole seems to think I’m finished but me stomach has other ideas. It’s still rumbling. The shitting isn’t helping me relax. It’s not doin’ the job I hoped it would. I can’t think straight. I find meself eyeballing a rack of towels and decide that they’ll be great to wipe me hole with. How can I be thinkin’ about that right now? Then I notice a janitor’s uniform hanging behind the towels. That seems to stop the shitting.
Yes, Darragh! You fuckin’ genius.
I kick me shoes off and pull the waistband of me jeans over me feet. The uniform is way too big on me. The sleeves look like a fuckin elephant trunk hanging over my arms. But at least it looks like I work here. I should be able to walk out unnoticed. I’m thinkin’ ’bout whether to take the direction of the stairs or whether to brave it and walk out onto the lobby floor and straight through the exit. I can’t hear any cops in the reception but I’m sure there’s one or two out on the street waiting to see if someone comes out. I’ll have to bide me time. I decide I should head upstairs. I’m about to make me way to the stairwell when me stomach rolls again. This has only ever happened to me once before when I got food poisoning. Fear genuinely does seem to make you shit yourself.
I zip down the top half of the uniform towards me knees and squat over the bucket again. Me shit is still wet. It slaps against the rest of the shit in the bottom of the bucket at the exact same time the door slams open.
‘Stay where you are,’ a fat cop shouts at me before yellin’ out for backup.
I pat me hand around to feel for the gun but I don’t know what way I’ve pulled this uniform down. It seems to be inside out. The realisation that I’m fucked makes my stomach roar again. The two of us hear the shite spray outta me hole as we stare into each other’s eyes awkwardly. He holds his gun in one hand and his nose in the other as he makes his way towards me. I’m fuckin done for.
Six months later
12:00
Jack
I don’t feel Frank’s presence that much around here anymore. Especially not on these rooftop terrace bars. We didn’t come up to one of these when we visited together. I did feel his presence the first few times I returned after his death. But ever since I moved here permanently, his shadow seems to have disappeared from every street corner. It’s probably the clearest sign that I’ve started a new life. He’s still very much in my heart, of course. My memories of Frank are my most treasured thoughts. They’re worth a lot more to me than the millions I possess.
I split the money between sixteen different banks throughout Europe. Four of those are here in Rome. I’m so rich. I’m rich in more than just monetary terms. I couldn’t be happier. Which is some achievement given how much of my life has been filled with heartache. I’ve been living in Rome for over four months now.
I drove to Belfast straight after the robbery, only stopping in Drogheda for another car change. I stayed in the Radisson Blu Hotel for ten days. My flight to London was always booked for May the third. I spent two weeks there, setting up four accounts with two different banks. I don’t like London. There’s a real lack of warmth on the streets of that city. I’ve travelled through France, Belgium and Switzerland on the way to my new life and, while they all have many beautiful traits, spending time in them has reassured me that Rome is the most idyllic place in the world to live in. My travels went perfectly well except for patches of boredom. But I got everything done that I needed to without any hitches. It went almost as perfectly as the morning of the robbery itself. I was always certain Darragh would do as instructed. His commitment was never really an issue for me. The little prick was so gullible – gullible and stupid. It was his stupidity that made the whole plan possible. I almost felt sorry for him on occasions. He’d make me laugh. He was so dumb that he became the comedy in my life for seven months. But there was never a moment where I forgot he murdered my son. I was intent on screwing him over, more so than getting the money. I often wonder what he’s up to. I know he was brought to Portlaoise prison initially. I’m not sure if he’s still there now. They sent him there the day after he was arrested. That’s what I read in the Irish Daily Star, crashed out on the bed of my hotel room a couple of days after the robbery. His trial can’t be far off. He’s most likely racking his brain trying to figure out who the hell I am. Then again, he might not be. He probably still thinks we’re best pals. Maybe he’s still sticking to the plan. The cops must be leaning heavily on him for any nugget of information about his accomplice. He knows nothing. I covered every track I made. I went through everything with a fine-tooth comb countless times and couldn’t find any holes in the plan. We executed everything perfectly. The only time I felt worried through the whole ord
eal was when I bumped into Antoinette. I often think about her. I never used to. But she became a central figure in my most memorable morning ever. When I was shacked up in Belfast, I worried that I would see a picture of myself in the newspapers. But I knew in my heart that Antoinette had no idea who she was talking to that morning. I was totally unrecognisable. There was another small instance when a police car siren almost made my heart jump out of my mouth after I’d picked up the third car just outside Clogherhead. I had literally just transferred the cases into it and had driven only twenty metres when I heard a blaze of sirens. The cops flew by me, much to my relief. I laughed out loud, banging on the steering wheel.
I’m certainly safe now. There’s no catching up with me here. I adore Rome so much. There’s character on every street. But it’s been slightly lonely, living here for seventeen weeks without much company. I made friends with a Dutch couple, who were staying in the first hotel I was living in, but ever since they went home I’ve had nobody to share a drink with. That’s all about to change. I look at my watch and release an excited puff of my cheeks. Two minutes past twelve. I’m so excited about our new life. My favourite thing about Rome is these rooftop terraced bars. There is no better place on the planet to be on a bright day. It’s not hot, but the glare of the sun is making me squint. My eyes take in as much as they possibly can from this height. The Hotel Forum overlooks the Colosseum and the grounds of the Roman Forum. In the distance you can just about make out the steeples of Vatican City. That’s a country all to itself. The smallest country in the world. I’ve walked through it twice now, laughing at the hypocrisy of Christianity. Religion is a joke, but it’s a funny joke – ye gotta give them that. The big tourist attractions aren’t the reason we’ve hungered to live here. It’s the tiny nuances of this ancient city that made us crave living here. My stroll down Via Margutta and Via Gregoriana this morning still had the same effect on me that it had the very first time I walked it ten years ago. I love the effortlessness of the architecture. Nothing’s flashy, but it’s all beautiful. It makes Dublin seem really ugly. Rome makes every city unimpressive by comparison, in fairness. I take another sip of Château Petrus as I breathe in the excitement of today through my nose. That’s the sort of wine I can drink now. I just paid almost two thousand euros for this bottle. I guess that’s what multi-millionaires do. As I place my glass back down onto the table I hear a faint shuffle of footsteps brush the patio ground behind me. My stomach flips over.
The Tick-Tock Trilogy Box Set Page 23
