Authors: Roger Barry
Recognition hit them both simultaneously, as they froze, about twenty feet apart, staring. The others at the counter, one by one, turned.
It’s Tom Feeney, I was right after all,
thought Brad,
well I’ll be…
Pat looked from one to the other, and back again.
It’s that girl Sally, it must be. A girl on crutches, the look on Tom’s face, it has to be her,
he surmised.
Oh fuck, it’s her,
thought Grainne.
Tom felt a lump in his throat, while Sally’s eyes began blinking in an effort to clear her vision, as they stood there immobile. Then emotion took over and Tom sprinted those remaining twenty feet, sweeping Sally up as he wrapped his arms around her, all the while repeating ‘I’m sorry, Sally’, ‘I’m really sorry’ over and over. Finally they separated, and Tom looked down at the crutches.
‘How are you Sally, I mean how are your legs. Are you on the mend, are you still in pain?’
‘No, I’m fine, well, getting there anyway. You look good, how are you holding up, and what the hell are you doing in Denver?’ she asked.
‘That’s a long, long story’ he answered, and I might ask you the same. There’s some people I want you to meet over here’ he continued, gesturing to the car hire counter.
‘I was going to say the same’ she countered, as they headed across. They were all introduced to each other and shook hands, the handshake between Grainne and Sally appearing a little cool, Tom observed. An awkward silence followed for a few moments, before Pat spoke.
‘I think we should all go over and sit down for a bit, maybe have a little chat’ he said, gesturing back towards the coffee dock.
They all waited until Pat brought a tray of coffee over, and sat down, dishing out the cups as he did so.
‘Right, someone’s gotta start off, so it might as well be me’ began Brad. ‘As Sally’s already said, Brad’s the name, Brad Johnston. But what she didn’t say, is that I’m a detective with the Boston Police Department, and the reason I’m here, we’re here, is to try and shed some light on what the hell Mark Fielding is up to. I believe he’s directly involved in the murder of two people, one of them your girlfriend, sorry, ex-girlfriend’ he said, gesturing towards Tom. ‘I found a business card with the name of a Crawford company in Lowanski’s apartment, and seeing as I had nothing else to go on, me and Sally here decided we’d take a trip to Nebraska, and maybe sniff around a bit. I would like to ask a few people a few questions, like how the fuck did Tom here, a murder suspect, manage to get back to the States without anyone knowing. I’d like to throw a few questions Lowanski’s way too, but apparently he’s not in a position to answer anything’ he finished, looking towards Pat.
‘Ok’ began Pat, ’let’s lay our cards on the table. As Brad here is intimating, I’m indeed responsible for Lowanski’s premature demise, but considering he came to Ireland with the intent of killing my nephew here, he had it coming to him, and no mistake. I did however, get the chance to ask him some of the questions you may have wanted to put to him, and he was forthcoming with his answers, eventually. You may not have approved my method in doing this, but the end justifies the means in my book, especially with a lowlife like Lowanski’.
As Brad looked into Pats eyes, he knew he was looking at a man who’d seen and done most things in his time, and wouldn’t flinch at whatever was needed to get results.
‘So’, continued Pat, ‘ here’s the upshot. I’ll give you a brief guided tour of what we know, but don’t be afraid to stop me if you think you can fill in any blanks. Fielding is the creator of a drugs ring, using all the contacts and influence he’s built up over years of undercover operations. The heroin originates in Afghanistan, is brought over the border into China, transferred to Shanghai, then imported through a company in Nebraska, whose business card you found in Lowanski’s apartment. Each delivery has a street value of about $6,000,000, and they plan on making a shipment a month, which would give a total street value of $72,000,000 in a year, give or take. Of course that’s a street value we’re talking about, and there’s people to be paid, and offices to be maintained, and other incidental expenses, but I reckon Fielding should be coming out with six to eight million dollars a year, unless his bean counting isn’t up to scratch, or too many people dip their fingers in the honey. The Chinese guy was killed because he was being difficult, they wanted Tom dead because he witnessed that murder and they were trying to tie up loose ends, Christine, in the wrong place at the wrong time, was killed by accident, and Sally was just part of an information gathering exercise. I know that in Ireland, and I imagine America is no different, you can get someone killed for €, 10,000, so when we’re talking tens of millions, as we are in this case, killing a few people here and there to protect your assets is no big deal. That’s about the jist of what we know’ Pat concluded.
‘So, what happens now? Asked Brad. ‘All I’m sure of is that here I am, a police detective, sitting across the table from a double murder suspect, beside his uncle, who’s practically confessed to the homicide of one Stanley Lowanski’.
‘Oh cut the crap, Johnson. You know Tom had nothing to do with those murders, and as for Lowanski, he had it coming to him. Besides, you’re a Boston cop, and have no jurisdiction here anyway. The way I see it, we’re both after the same thing, namely nailing Fielding, and I reckon that end would be best served by pooling our resources. So, what do you say, we join together and get this Fielding fucker?’
‘Agreed’ answered Brad, ‘provided we stick to information gathering, and don’t start murdering and torturing people. The end doesn’t necessarily justify the means, in my book’.
‘Jesus, not even a little bit of torturing? What a killjoy’ said Pat, extending his hand, and they both shook on it.
‘Well, that’s it’ exclaimed Grainne, ‘the elder statesmen have made their pact. Don’t mind us, whatever you do. You two geriatrics just go ahead and make the decisions, we’ll fall into line, won’t we boys and girls?’
Tom and Sally nodded subserviently.
‘Should we still get two cars? asked Tom.’
‘I think we’d be better with two, don’t you think?’ asked Pat of Brad, ‘it’d be better if we had to follow one of their cars, we could switch every so often and the tail would be less noticeable’.
‘Yes you’re right, Pat, two’d be better’.
‘Oh yes, you’re right Pat’ mocked Sally,
‘Whatever you say Brad, after you, no after you Brad. Jesus, what a pair’ added Grainne, and the three younger ones all laughed in unison while the two elders looked on disapprovingly.
‘Right’ said Pat, I think the best thing to do is for us to head for Crawford, book into a hotel for the night, and start our search in the morning. Agreed? ‘
They all nodded.
‘Grainne, can you go on the web and do the booking?’ he asked.
Grainne nodded again, and went to work. She located a hotel in Crawford, Fort Robinson State Park Lodge, and began logging in the details. Then she got stuck. How many rooms, singles, doubles, twins? She looked up from the screen to the people gathered around her. This was awkward. If she asked, it may only make matters worse, become an issue.
Fuck it,
she thought finally.
I’ll book four rooms and they can sort it out when we get there
.
As far as I’m concerned, I’m still in a room with Tom until informed otherwise by him. The rest can make their own plans.
They arrived at the hotel in convoy, and approached the check-in. The question as to what the sleeping arrangements were going to be seemed to dawn on several of them at the same time.
‘I wasn’t sure of the exact sleeping arrangements, so I booked a double for Tom and I, plus another double, and two twin rooms’ she stated defiantly, looking at each in turn, starting with Sally, before adding, ‘I presume everyone is ok with that?’
Nobody seemed to disapprove, including Tom, and Grainne thought she detected a look of gratitude on his face, as if he was pleased she’d brought the issue to a head. As they made to take the luggage up to their rooms, Grainne turned to Sally.
‘Sally, mind hanging back a few minutes?’ she asked.
Tom looked concerned, and was about to say something, until both girls gave him a look which said ‘leave us be for a bit, this is for us to sort out’, and he relented.
‘I’ll bring your bag up’ said Brad.
Sally nodded.
They walked over to a couple of seats in the foyer, Grainne gesturing for Sally to sit. Grainne went over to the bar, returning with a bottle of wine, and two glasses.
‘I don’t know if you drink or not Sally, but it’s been a long day, and I sure could do with a drink anyhow’
‘Well, I’m not averse to the odd sniffle, and today seems to me to be just about as odd as it gets’ answered Sally.
‘Good’ said Grainne, pouring out two glasses.
‘You fire away on that’ she continued, ‘I’m just going out for a smoke before we start’, then went outside to roll herself a cigarette. She needed these few minutes alone to compose herself and figure out how to begin. When she had finished, she returned to the table and sat down, taking a small mouthful of wine before continuing.
‘Sally, this is an awkward situation for both of us, so I thought it might be an idea to get it all out in the open, especially if we’re going to be working together. Pat laid his cards on the table, so now it’s my turn’.
She took a deep breath.
‘I’m involved with Tom, and as far as I’m aware, he has feelings for me too. I know you and he had an emotional attachment, so I’d like to hear where you feel you stand at the moment, regarding the two of you. All I’m asking is for you to be honest, and I promise to be honest in return’.
Tom lay on the bed in an oak veneered room lit by the fading winter sun shining through a large bay window, staring up at a white stippled ceiling, trying to come to terms with his own thoughts. Seeing Sally again was a shock. It might have been different if he had known he was going to come face to face with her, but for it to happen out of the blue like that had completely thrown him.
Well Feeney, like to see how you get out of this one.
He struggled to nail down his emotions. The thought of two women fighting over his affections should have been the ultimate ego boost, but it wasn’t. It just made him feel sad. He felt upset that one, or possibly even both, would be hurt, which is the last thing he wanted to happen to two women he felt so deeply about.
Ok Feeney, be pragmatic. Forget about the feelings of both girls for a minute, if that’s possible. In an ideal world, who would you most want to spend the rest of your days with?
Both.
No Feeney, wrong answer. You’re not a Mormon. Both is impossible. You have to choose one, only one.
Honestly?
Yes!
He knew the answer.
Could he live with Grainne, never to set eyes on Sally again?
He thought that it would be difficult at first, but yes, he could.
Could he live with Sally, never to see Grainne again?
No.
It would have to be Grainne.
He just hoped the conversation between these two exceptional women would yield the same result. If it didn’t, he didn’t know what he’d do.
He returned to frowning at the ceiling.
Sally took a sip of the wine, deep in thought for a few moments, then began.
‘Ok, here’s how I feel. Yes, Tom and I built up a special relationship when we were thrown together those past few weeks. We just clicked. It was like a sort of whirlwind romance that happened over a period of a couple of days. It just happened. Why? Well, he’s a great guy, as I’m sure you know. In my view, I think that before all the trouble started, he was lost. Then, when all hell broke loose, and his emotions were stripped back to the bare bones and he had nothing, he actually began to find himself, his real self. He began to change. A new Tom Feeney emerged from the ashes of the old one, if you like. When we were separated, I still had very strong feelings towards him, longed to see him again, and missed him badly. Then, I was beaten up by Lowanski and his cronies, and, although I didn’t forget, he sort of faded into the background a bit. I still thought about him, though not as much, if I’m honest about it. When Brad showed on the scene, and took me in, it was another factor to be thrown into the equation. Now don’t get me wrong, Brad and I have a purely platonic thing going, probably best described as a sort of father/daughter thing really.