Irish Throwdown (What Happens In Vegas Book 4)

by Matt Lincoln

  27

  Charlie

  “Here you are, boys,” Seamus beamed as he set two large cartons of food in front of us. “Couldn’t let you leave Ireland without having some fish and chips, could I? It’s a staple of the Irish diet, after all.”

  “Thanks,” I replied cheerfully as I dug into the food. The fish was flaky and white and covered in a thick, crispy fried batter. The fries were similarly crunchy with a smooth, soft center. We’d retreated to another small bar after I was discharged from the hospital. Junior and I were both dead on our feet, and by the time I’d been rescued from the roof by the fire department with a ladder, I’d been about ready to collapse.

  The day wasn’t over yet, though. We still needed to interrogate the man I’d saved from falling to his death and figure out how the Irish mob of all things was connected to the bomb. Seamus had insisted we at least take a break for lunch in a move that had once again reminded me of Harry.

  The bar was located right by the Ha’Penny Bridge and had outdoor seating that allowed us a nice view of the river as we ate. Despite the earlier panic over the explosion, the city still appeared to be bustling with tourists.

  “I’m surprised the streets are so crowded,” I remarked as I took another bite of my food. “Considering all the commotion this morning.”

  “It’s probably because of the commotion that people are out and about,” Seamus replied. “Bunch of nosy busybodies wanting to get a close-up look at what’s happening. Your little stunt on the roof probably helped with that. Then there’s Halloween tomorrow.”

  “Oh yeah,” Junior interjected. “I almost forgot. Tomorrow is the thirty-first, isn’t it?”

  “Aye,” Seamus nodded. “And it’ll be a complete mess, too. A street full of drunk eejits. It’s all good fun, though. You two will get to watch the parade. It’s a real treat, one of the biggest Halloween celebrations in the world. We’ve got some pretty impressive floats as well.”

  I smiled at how proud Seamus sounded as he spoke. It was really clear how much he loved Dublin.

  “I hope we can,” I replied. “Depending on what the suspect tells us, we might not even be in Dublin tomorrow.”

  “Ah, that would be a shame,” Seamus responded sadly. “Well, let’s worry about that later. Just eat up and replenish some of your strength for now, boys.”

  We spent another hour or so talking and eating, and by the time we climbed back into the car to head back to the station, I was feeling significantly more refreshed.

  It was raining by the time we made it back to the station, and the gray sky cast a gloomy atmosphere over the entire building. I’d noticed that the rain seemed to start and stop suddenly and at random points throughout the day, and by that point, I’d grown used to it.

  Seamus stepped forward to speak to an officer as we entered the station.

  “Alright,” he announced to us a few moments later. “The suspect’s ready for us. They want a Garda in there since he’s claiming to be affiliated with the mob, but I’ll let you do all the talking. I don’t want to distract from your case. His name is Patrick Gallagher. Apparently, he’s been very forthcoming and hasn’t resisted or given anyone a hard time.”

  I remembered what the man had said about not resisting since he owed me for saving his life. I was a little surprised to hear he’d been true to his word.

  “Gallagher?” Junior repeated. “So he’s the one we’re looking for, then? That was the name on the note.”

  “I suppose so,” Seamus shrugged. “Though Gallagher is a pretty common name in Ireland. And if he’s telling the truth about being in the mob, there’s probably a number of fellows named Gallagher. They tend to keep it in the family, you know?”

  “I see,” Junior responded. “Why don’t you be the one to conduct the interrogation, Charlie? You’ve already built a rapport with him. You might be able to leverage that save over him for information.”

  “I agree.” I nodded. “Let’s go, Seamus.”

  He led us in the direction of the interview room. It was nicer than the one we had back at the office, with a little seating area behind a two-way mirror that multiple people could watch the interview from and speakers built into the wall that allowed officers to communicate without having to open the door.

  I could see Gallagher sitting inside, calmly reading a book.

  “Now hold up a moment,” Seamus frowned. “How on earth did he get that?”

  It took a moment for it to click in my head. A detained suspect shouldn’t have anything with them, even something as innocuous as a book. Seamus charged into the room, and I hurried in after him.

  Patrick looked up and smiled when he caught my eye.

  “Well, if it isn’t--” he started to say before he was abruptly cut off.

  “Where’d you get that, you wee little scoundrel?” Seamus barked as he snatched the book out of Patrick’s hand. Patrick just smiled at him calmly.

  “A friend gave it to me,” he answered simply.

  “A friend, eh?” Seamus repeated. “And how exactly did this friend get into the Garda station and back into this room?”

  “Who knows?” Patrick shrugged. “I don’t pry into his business. I just said thank you for the book. He could probably tell I was getting bored in here by myself.”

  Seamus was fuming, but my mind was moving at a hundred miles a minute. Someone had clearly managed to sneak into the police station and all the way into the interview room but, for some reason, hadn’t bothered to break Patrick out after doing so. There was no way someone would take such a high risk just to deliver a book, unless…

  “A Garda,” I stated aloud as I moved to take a seat in front of him. “Your friend is a Garda, isn’t he?”

  Patrick smiled at me knowingly in response, which told me all I needed to know.

  “Who is it?” Seamus demanded as he slammed the book onto the table between us and dropped himself heavily into the other chair.

  “Settle down, old-timer,” Patrick sneered. “You don’t really think I’d rat out a friend like that, do you?”

  “So you aren’t going to give us information on who your boss is?” I interrupted before Seamus could get worked up again.

  “Now, I never said that,” Patrick corrected before eyeing me curiously. “And what exactly makes you think I’m not the boss myself?”

  “The boss wasn’t even at the bar today,” I explained. “If you really had a man on the inside with the Garda, then you knew we were coming long before we got there. Which means your boss had plenty of time to get away. Am I wrong?”

  Patrick raised his eyebrows at me appraisingly as I finished my explanation.

  “You’re a clever one, agent,” he smirked. “You are an agent, aren’t you? I heard rumors that the feds were onto us, and once I heard your accent, I knew they must be true. Ah, well, the jig is well and truly up, isn’t it?”

  “Why did you get left behind?” I asked as I ignored all his other comments.

  “That old turnip left me behind as insurance,” he shrugged. “Told me to kill the feds when they arrived while he went off on his merry way. That’s why I don’t feel any qualms about selling him out, you know? I’m the underboss, and that beast just left me behind like I was one two-bit underling.”

  “What’s an underboss?” I asked.

  “You know, like the second-in-command,” Patrick explained. “I was his right-hand man. Well, aside from the other boss, that is.”

  “The other boss?” I prompted.

  “Yeah,” Patrick snickered. “Sounds funny, doesn’t it? Like a ship with two captains or a country with two kings. Worked out about as well as you’d expect, too. They were always going at it. They had the entire family split down the middle, right up until the other one left.”

  “What about you?” I asked, though I suspected I knew the answer. “Whose side were you on?”

  “I quite preferred the other guy, myself,” Patrick smirked. “Most of the younger members did as well. Old Fin
nian was too old fashioned, always sitting back on his arse while the young’uns ran around doing his dirty work for him.”

  “Finnian?” I repeated. “That’s the name of the boss?”

  “Aye, Finnian Gallagher,” Patrick confirmed.

  “How is he related to you?” I asked, noting the identical last names.

  “Dunno,” Patrick shrugged. “I think he’s my great uncle or something. My ma’s cousin’s grandfather. Something along those lines.”

  “And you’re still willing to betray him?” I asked.

  “He’s no family to me,” Patrick spat. “What good is it being someone’s blood if they treat you like dirt and leave you behind to take the fall so they can save their own skin? Nah, my family are my brothers and sisters who are sick and tired of the way he’s been running things.”

  “So that’s why you’re speaking to me about him now?” I confirmed.

  “You’re catching on,” Patrick smiled. “And, of course, I do owe you for saving my neck back there. I figure if I can kill two birds with one stone, then I may as well take advantage of the opportunity.”

  “What about the ‘other boss’?” I asked. “You said he left. Did Finnian kill him, or did he leave on his own?”

  Patrick grinned maliciously at me.

  “Now, I’m afraid I can’t tell you about that,” he replied. “I have no problem turning on an old bloke like Finnian, but the other guy still has my loyalty.”

  That much was obvious, considering Patrick wouldn’t even reveal his name to me.

  “Alright,” I nodded. “Do you know where we can find Finnian now?”

  “Maybe not right this second,” Patrick replied. “But I know where he’ll be tomorrow night. There’s a big shipment of goods coming in from China. Illegal goods. He’ll be at the port tomorrow overseeing everything during the big Halloween parade. All the Garda in the city will be busy keeping watch then, so it’s the perfect opportunity. Finnian doesn’t trust people, so there’s no way he won’t be there keeping an eye on things.”

  “Alright.” I nodded as I took in the information. “How do I know I can trust you? It seems every time we get a lead, it ends up being some kind of ambush or trick. You’re obviously hiding something. I can tell that much by that little power move you played with the book. How can I guarantee this won’t end the same way?”

  Patrick regarded me carefully for a minute as he drummed his fingers against the table.

  “I suppose you can’t,” he finally shrugged. “I can’t give you anything other than my word. I know it probably doesn’t mean much coming from me, but I’m being honest when I say that I’d much prefer to see that old geezer knocked down off his throne. There’s been a lot of unrest within the family for years, and it’s high time that somebody did something about it.”

  I thought carefully before speaking again. There was a lot here to mull over, and I still wasn’t sure I could trust this man.

  “You’re really so willing to turn on your boss like that?” I scoffed skeptically. “How do I know this isn’t all some ruse? Maybe Finnian left you behind deliberately so you could lead us into another trap.”

  “Oh, he left me behind,” he muttered bitterly. “But not for anything as important as that. No, he just left me behind so he could save his own arse. He had a feeling you’d be coming, and he told me to stay back and hold you off while he went on his merry way. Finnian expects loyalty but gives none in return. We’re all just disposable pawns to him. To tell the truth, I only stuck by him because it was a safer bet than going along with what—with the other guy’s plan. He probably expected me to roll over and die for him, stay loyal to the end. Well, he’s got another think comin’.”

  He seemed genuinely upset, understandable for a guy who’d done so much dirty work for someone only to be used as a sacrificial pawn in the end. Maybe he really was our key to finding Finnian.

  “The other boss you mentioned, is he the one who sent us the cough syrup?” I asked. I studied him closely for any sign of a reaction to my words.

  “The what now?” He raised an eyebrow at me. “I have no idea what he has or hasn’t done. I already told you that he’s been missing for…” he trailed off, and I saw a glint in his eyes as something finally connected in his mind. “Wait just a moment. Are you saying what I think you’re saying? That voice on the telly was him? He’s the one who sent you after the boss?”

  His voice rose in pitch as he spoke, and an unsettling smile was spreading across his face. This proved that, at the very least, he hadn’t been privy to the other boss’s plans. He looked positively thrilled at what he was hearing.

  “I knew he wouldn’t just abandon us.” Patrick beamed. “To think he pulled off something like this! Ha! Best of luck to you in catching old Finnian, agent. I truly do mean that.”

  He continued to chuckle maliciously even as I pushed my chair away from the table with a scrape and stood up. I had the information that I needed, and I didn’t think I would have any luck in prying the identity of the ‘other boss’ out of him, so as far as I was concerned, this interview was done.

  “You go ahead, Agent Hills,” Seamus turned to address me from his seat. “I need to have a few more words with our guest here about this friend in the Garda.”

  “Oh, come off it, old man,” Patrick snorted. “I already told you, I’m not going to snitch on my pal.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Seamus muttered darkly. Internal matters involving the Garda weren’t any of my business, so I turned on my heel and slipped quietly out of the room. Junior was seated just outside. He’d watched the entire interrogation through the two-way mirror on the other side, and now he was staring pensively off into space, as though thinking over what he’d just heard.

  “I don’t think he’s lying,” he sighed as I took a seat next to him. “For the first time since we started this mission, I don’t feel like we’re walking into the perp’s trap.”

  “I agree.” I nodded as I watched Seamus and Patrick through the glass. “I have a feeling things are going to get messier than they already are, though. Familial relationships can bring out the best and worst in people. When it comes to the mob, loyalty is everything. The fact that their organization has fractures to the point where everyone is turning on one another means we can’t trust anyone.”

  We sat in silence for a few more minutes as we watched Seamus become visibly angrier while Patrick kept a stoic and bored expression on his face.

  “Let’s go get some sleep,” Junior suggested as he stood up from his chair and stretched. “We’ll be striking tomorrow night, right? We should catch up on as much rest as we can before then.”

  “Great idea,” I replied.

  I’d been running off coffee, adrenaline, and the occasional bit of alcohol for nearly seventy-two hours now. As much as I loved the heart-pumping excitement that came with being face-to-face with danger, even I had my limits. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to take a long, steaming hot shower before collapsing into bed.

  28

  Junior

  I woke up to the sound of raindrops tapping against the window of my hotel room. It was a relaxing noise, and since our mission to capture Finnian at the port wouldn’t begin until well after dark, I was sorely tempted to just fall back asleep. Charlie and I had been running all over Ireland almost non-stop since we’d gotten off the plane. I'd barely been able to sleep the first night after hearing about what happened to Fiona, and then I’d ended up pulling an all-nighter as we tried to figure out where the bomb had been hidden. I’d forced myself to have a thorough shower the previous evening and then promptly lost consciousness the second my head hit the pillow.

  I might have actually fallen back asleep if it hadn’t been for my phone, which chose that exact moment to ring. I groaned as I untangled myself from the thick down comforter and reached over to the nightstand where I’d left my phone charging last night. I immediately felt more awake when I saw that it was Fiona calling me.

>   “Hello?” I answered as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes.

  “Hey, Junior,” she replied. I could tell she was smiling by the tone of her voice. “Were you still asleep?”

  “Oh, no,” I replied. “Well, yeah, but I had literally just woken up. You didn’t wake me up.”

  “It’s like eleven in the morning over there.” She chuckled. “You’re still in bed?”

  “There’s no way it is.” I frowned as I pulled the phone away from my ear to check the time. To my surprise, it really was a little past eleven in the morning.

  “I overslept,” I groaned into the phone as I threw the covers off entirely and sat up in bed.

  “You must have been really tired,” Fiona giggled. “You’re usually pretty good when it comes to punctuality.”

  “Yeah, I was,” I admitted. “It’s been a rough couple of days. What about you, though? If it’s eleven here, then it’s the middle of the night over there, right?”

  “Yeah,” Fiona replied sheepishly. “It’s a little after three. I can’t sleep. My brain is too wired going over all the details of the case. While I was lying in bed, something occurred to me, and I couldn’t relax until I looked into it. It turned out not to be a lead, and now I’m wide awake.”

  “So you just called me because you’re bored?” I teased.

  “No!” she exclaimed indignantly. “I thought it would be a good opportunity to call you since there’s such a big time difference, and I assumed you’d be up and awake at this hour.”

  “I haven’t been able to sleep much either,” I replied. “We finally got a pretty big lead in the case, though, so we were able to turn in early and get some rest.”

  “That’s good,” Fiona responded. “Have you had a chance to see the sights yet?”

  “Kind of,” I shrugged, even though she couldn’t see me. “We’ve been doing a lot of traveling around, so I’ve gotten the chance to see a lot of Dublin and the countryside.”