“He’s been shot,” Dr Brady said to the ambulance crew, “he’s lost a good bit of blood, but I’ve given him some morphine for the pain, and as you can see we have a saline drip up.”
“Thanks, Doc,” the senior paramedic said, “we’ll take it from here. Deirdre, get his B.P. and SATS for me. Who put the towel on his leg?”
“That was me,” Lyons said.
“Good work. You may just have saved his life,” the man said.
Lyons turned away, tears welling in her eyes. She didn’t realise how badly Mick had been injured by the shotgun blast.
Pascal Brosnan had arrived on foot, having parked his car further down the track to avoid blocking everyone in.
“How’s Inspector Hays?” he asked Lyons when he saw the medics working on Hays on the ground.
“He’s in good hands, but the bastards just shot him in cold blood. We have to find these two before they can cause any more damage. Can you get onto Séan and see what he can organise by way of a search party? And make sure all the local stations are well briefed. I’m going to get the forensics out to the house. The Geraghtys left in a hurry, so there’s probably some good evidence in there. They may even have gone without the stolen cash. Are you firearms trained, Pascal?” Lyons said.
“I am, Inspector, but I don’t have a weapon, and I don’t want one either. I hate the damn things,” the Garda replied.
Lyons walked off to a quiet spot at the side of the house and called Sinéad Loughran.
“Hi Sinéad. Look, I’m out here at Roundstone. Mick has been shot by the Geraghty brothers. He’s OK, well sort of, there’s a doctor and an ambulance here now. Can you get a team out here asap? The Geraghtys left in a hurry, and there’ll be lots of forensic evidence in the house.”
“God, Maureen, that’s awful. Are you OK?” Loughran said.
“Bearing up, Sinéad. I have to go now, I’ll text you the GPS co-ordinates of this place. Oh, and can you contact Eamon and Sally and put them in the picture. When I know where they are taking Mick, I’ll call them.”
“Yes, sure. What about the superintendent?” Loughran asked.
“He can wait till things have calmed down a bit. I’ll call him in a while.”
“OK. I’ll see you soon, and Maureen, I’m really sorry,” Loughran said and hung up.
Lyons walked back over to where the paramedics were attending to her partner. They now had Mick wrapped in a thermal blanket, and he had been placed on a stretcher.
“We’re ready to put him in the ambulance now, Inspector. Are you coming with us?” the senior paramedic asked.
“Where are you taking him?”
“Well, he’s stable now. His blood pressure is just about OK and we have managed to stop the bleeding, so I think we’ll head straight into the Regional Hospital in Galway. We’ll be there in forty minutes or so.”
“OK. Thanks. I’ll follow in Mick’s car when I have seen to a few things here. Before you load him up, can I get his gun out of its holster? It needs to go back into the secure compartment in the boot of his car,” Lyons said.
“Oh, yes, sure. But can you leave his belt on – just take the gun out, I don’t want the bleeding to start again from disturbing him?”
“Yes, OK.”
Lyons gently removed Hays’ handgun from its holster, turned away, and emptied the chamber, removed the magazine of bullets, and made sure the safety catch was on, before placing it inside her jacket. She gave Mick’s hand a squeeze, and then the paramedics lifted him into the back of the ambulance, closed it up, and departed with sirens blaring and blue lights flashing.
Lyons then thanked the doctor and his nurse for coming out so quickly.
“You must have just dropped everything, thank you so much. Were you in the middle of surgery?”
“Oh, don’t worry, they’ll keep. And they’ll enjoy the drama. Not in any malicious way, you understand, but we haven’t had anything like this happen out here before,” Dr Brady said.
“Yes, well thanks anyway. Send your bill to me,” Lyons said, handing him a business card.
“Oh, that won’t be necessary, Inspector, there’ll be no charge on this occasion.”
The doctor and his assistant duly departed, and left Lyons there standing close to Mick Hays’ spilt blood on the ground.
“Right, Pascal. I’m going to follow the ambulance back into town now. I need you to stay here on point until the forensic team and some more backup get here. But listen, I want you to take my gun. If this lot come back – and they could easily if they have left the money in the house – you can’t afford to be vulnerable,” Lyons said.
“God, they hardly will, Inspector. I’ll be fine.”
“But take the gun anyway, Pascal. I couldn’t bear it if another cop got shot on my watch. And if you get the chance, put one right between the eyes of that bastard – for me!”
She handed over her pistol along with the spare magazine that she had taken from Hays’ weapon, giving Brosnan twenty rounds in all. If they did come back, even if he wasn’t a great shot, that should give him enough ammunition to do some damage.
Chapter Thirteen
As Lyons drove back towards Galway, she telephoned Sally Fahy.
“Hi Sally, it’s Maureen here. How are things?”
“Oh, hi Inspector. How are you, and how’s Inspector Hays?”
Lyons filled the girl in on the latest developments, and asked Fahy to meet her with Eamon Flynn out at the Regional Hospital in about an hour. They needed to plan their next moves.
“And Inspector, the Super is going nuts. He’s been down three times already. Maybe you should give him a call,” Fahy said.
“OK. Will do. See you soon.”
Lyons spent a few minutes getting the story clear in her head before calling Superintendent Finbarr Plunkett. He would probably not be best pleased that herself and Hays had gone to the house on their own, without backup, but she didn’t think he would be too aggressive about it. In situations where the chips were down, as it were, he tended to be fairly supportive.
“Superintendent, it’s Maureen Lyons,” she said when he answered his phone on the first ring.
“Ah, Maureen. How are you, and how is Mick?”
“Well, he’s on his way to the Regional Hospital in an ambulance. But he’s stable according to the doctor who attended him at the house, and they reckon he’ll be OK – eventually,” she said.
“God, Maureen, that’s awful. I’m sure he’ll be fine. I haven’t lost an officer in thirty-five years on the force you know,” he said, as if that was a guarantee of some sort that he never would lose one.
He went on, “Any sign of the scoundrels that did this?”
“None, sir. I have all the available personnel out looking for them, and all the stations in the area have been alerted. Sinéad Loughran and her team are on the way out to the house where it happened, and Pascal Brosnan is on point. I gave him my gun in case they returned before back up arrives.”
“Right, that’s fine. We don’t want any more shenanigans with those two. Were you hurt at all, Maureen?”
“No, sir. I was concealed behind a vehicle when they came roaring out of the house and just … sorry, sir,” she said, unable to keep the emotion out of her voice.
“It’s all right, Maureen, you’ve had a terrible shock,” Plunkett said, not knowing quite how to deal with the woman.
“Oh, and there’s one more thing, sir. I discharged my firearm. As they were escaping, I fired into the vehicle through the back window, but I don’t think I hit anyone.”
“Hmmm. Well don’t write that up just yet, Maureen, we might put a bit of a different perspective on that in case it ever ends up with GSOC. Let me think about it.”
“Right, sir. Thanks.”
* * *
Galway Regional Hospital is located just at the end of the N59, the road that comes from Clifden and Roundstone into the city. When Lyons arrived, she asked at reception for the ward where Hays had been taken
, and was informed that he had been taken directly to the operating theatre where Mr Michael O’Flaherty, a surgeon, was looking after him.
Lyons was directed to a family room on the second floor where she could wait, and get a much needed cup of coffee. The room was functional, yet cosy for a hospital. There was a sofa, two easy chairs, a small table with three kitchen style chairs tucked in around it, and in one corner there was a kettle, a microwave oven, and a tiny bright metal sink. A jar of instant coffee, a box of teabags and a carton of fresh milk sat beside the kettle, and an array of brightly coloured mugs were stacked there too. A large window looked out onto the university campus nearby, with its peculiar mixture of old and new buildings and extensive grass areas and playing fields.
Lyons brewed a cup of strong coffee, and then called Sally Fahy giving her directions to the room in which she was waiting.
“Do you want me to bring a sandwich for you, or something, Inspector?” Fahy asked before hanging up.
“No, it’s OK thanks, I’ve no appetite at all, and if I do get hungry, I can get something here, thanks.”
Ten minutes later, the three detectives were seated around the little table in the family room.
“OK folks. Let’s look at what we know so far. These thugs rob the postman, killing him in the process, and get away with sixty thousand euro and change. They then swap their old Mondeo for a jeep at Deasy’s, but why do they not get out of the area? It doesn’t make sense to me. In their new vehicle, they could easily have got through, or they could have split up and we’d never have caught them,” Lyons said.
“You think there’s a reason why they have hung around?” Flynn said.
“I don’t know Eamon, it just seems odd. Anyway, what else have we got? Anything on the car?” Lyons asked.
“Sinéad gave it a good going over. Lots of prints, and you know about the wrapper from the money. There was an empty vodka bottle on the floor in the back, and apart from that, not much else. A few receipts for fuel from various petrol stations in the area, that’s about it,” Sally said.
“Who was the vehicle registered to?” Lyons asked.
Fahy and Flynn exchanged a nervous glance.
“An Garda Síochána,” Flynn said, trying to keep a straight face.
“For God’s sake! How the hell did that happen?” Lyons said.
“It seems when it was sold off, we didn’t do the paperwork, or at least not properly. They must have assumed it was going for scrap. It was never transferred to the new owner,” Flynn said.
“Sloppy – very sloppy. Which means it won’t have any parking tickets or speeding offences registered against it. I wonder if they knew?” Lyons said.
“I doubt it. I’d say they just bought it from some dodgy dealer, cash in hand somewhere. It wasn’t up to much anyway,” Flynn said.
There was a knock at the door, and a nurse came in.
“Ms Lyons?” the nurse said.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“Mr Hays is out of surgery now. You can see him for a few minutes if you like. He’s a bit woozy after the anaesthetic, but he’s awake – kind of.”
Lyons walked down what seemed like an endless set of corridors till she reached room 212A, a private room close to the lifts.
“Well, look at you,” she said as she entered and went to his bedside.
“Hi Maureen,” he mumbled, and she bent over the bed and hugged him as tightly as she could. Her tears flowed freely as she clung to him, and he held her closely for several minutes.
“Bloody hell, Hays, you sure know how to scare a girl. And what made you think you were Mr Invincible anyway?” she said, sitting down in the chair beside the bed and gripping his hand tightly.
“That’s more like it! Nothing about how are you, or does it hurt?” he said.
“I bet it does,” she said.
“And did we get the little buggers?” he said.
“’Fraid not. I did manage to shoot out the back window of their jeep mind you. I don’t think Plunkett is too pleased about that. But they got away. We have a big man hunt going on, so we may get them soon enough. How long will you be in here?” she said.
“Just a day or two. They boot out as many as they can this week with Christmas coming. I’ll probably be on crutches for a week or two. But they say it will heal up pretty well. They took thirty-two lead pellets out of my leg, and apparently they missed an artery by a whisker. Thanks, by the way.”
“What for?”
“For saving my life with your belt. I heard the doctor say it as I was lying on the ground out there.” He squeezed her hand.
“Ah, go on will ye. When I took it off, I was going to whip your backside for being such an idiot, but then I decided I’d better try and stop the bleeding instead,” she said, smiling.
“Did they get my gun?”
“No, not at all. I removed it when you were being put in the ambulance. It’s in the safe in your car boot. I had to give mine to Pascal Brosnan in the hope that the Geraghtys would come back to the house and he could shoot them both.”
The nurse came back in to the room.
“That’s enough for now, Ms Lyons. He needs to rest. You can come back later if you like. Visiting is from six to eight thirty.”
As Lyons was getting up, she said, “OK. I’ll see you later. Is there anything you need brought in?”
“A pair of pyjamas wouldn’t go amiss, and maybe a toothbrush and shaving kit.”
“Right, will your pink ones with the sequins be OK? I think the others are in the wash.”
“Perfect!”
The nurse gave them both a strange look.
Lyons found her way back to the family room and asked the two detectives to go back to the station and follow things up from there.
Chapter Fourteen
When she got to the house Hays and herself shared in Salthill, Lyons called the station and spoke to Sally Fahy.
“Any news on the two louts?” Lyons said.
“Not a whisper I’m afraid, they’ve gone to ground again.”
“So, what are we doing about it?”
“Well, Sinéad and her guys have spent most of the afternoon out at the house. She’s just been on the phone, and she’s coming back in now. They found quite a bit of forensic evidence it seems, but no money. But they found a half empty box of cartridges. She says she may be able to trace where they were bought from the batch number on the box. And she got loads of fingerprints and DNA, so when we find them they’ll be for the high jump,” Fahy said.
“I’m glad you said ‘when’, Sally, not ‘if’. But what I can’t understand is why they haven’t scarpered away out of there. Why are they hanging around?” Lyons said.
“God knows. I have no idea how their nasty little minds work. Are you coming back in?” Fahy said.
“No. I’m at home getting Mick some stuff, and then I’ll be going back to the hospital. I’ll be in first thing tomorrow though. Can you arrange a meeting for nine?” Lyons said.
“Yes, sure. Oh, and by the way, Superintendent Plunkett was looking for you.”
“Oh, right, I’ll give him a call later. Thanks. See you tomorrow.”
* * *
Lyons gathered up a bag of toiletries, a pair of plain navy pyjamas, socks, underpants and a clean pair of trousers, and put them all in a small green holdall. She managed to squeeze in Hays’ dressing gown too, and then she tidied up the house and put things away neatly before leaving again for the hospital.
They were just serving tea when she arrived back in, and the nurse looking after Hays went and got a spare cup for Lyons.
“You’re looking a bit better, Mick. You’ve got some colour back in your cheeks. How are you feeling?” Lyons said.
“A bit easier. They’ve got me on some pretty strong pain killers, so I feel a bit out of it, but at least there’s no real discomfort. Those shotgun pellets hurt like hell.”
Lyons then outlined what they were doing to try and find the Geraghtys, and as
ked Hays if he had any ideas, as they seemed to be getting nowhere in their search.
“Tell you what. Why don’t I see if Rollo will meet you? He seems to have some connection to this lot’s information, and he may know something,” Hays said.
“Bit of a long shot, don’t you think? And his last tip off was a good bit wide of the mark.”
“I know, but still, he might have heard something. And he’ll be keen to help after his last bit of information was so wrong. I’ll leave a message in that terrible dump of a pub he drinks in, if you’re up for it?” Hays said.
“OK, if you think it might help. I don’t mind meeting him,” Lyons said.
Lyons stayed with Hays for another hour, chatting about nothing of any great importance. She could see by then that he was getting very tired. The medication was clearly making him drowsy, and the nurse had said that sleep was the best cure at this stage, so Lyons kissed him goodnight and left the room.
Outside the room, Sinéad Loughran was seated on a chair in the corridor.
“Hi, Sinéad, what’s up?” Lyons said, quite surprised to see the woman there.
“I just dropped in to see how he is, but when I saw you were in there, I waited here,” Loughran said.
“Ah, that was kind of you. He’s doing OK, but he’s just going off to sleep right now,” Lyons said, feeling awkward that she was putting Sinéad off going into Hays’ room when she had been kind enough to come all the way out to the hospital to see him.
“That’s OK. I can see him tomorrow. There’s a lot of people at the station feeling very concerned about him, you know. Anyway, what about you? When did you last eat?” Loughran said.
“God, I can’t remember. Now that you mention it, I am a bit peckish.”
“Right. Well let’s go and get something to eat then. Where do you fancy?” Loughran said.
“To be honest, I just want to get home. It’s been a hell of a day, and I’m all in,” Lyons said.
“OK. Well then this is what we’ll do. I’ll drive you home and I’ll rustle up something for us to eat. You can have a soak in the tub while I’m cooking, and then I’ll leave you to it.”
Murder on Pay Day Page 7
