Red Light (42 page)

‘Did she say what she was after?’ he asked, without looking up. He was busy totting up his accounts. There was usually a fall-off in income during the summer months, but this year business had been very steady. He guessed that fewer Corkonians had been able to afford a foreign holiday and so they had been obliged to get their jollies at home. His Washington Street premises didn’t compare with brothels in Gran Canaria or Magaluf, but you didn’t have to fly to get there, and if you wanted to get hammered after getting laid it was only a short walk to the Long Island Cocktail Bar at number eleven.

Trisha shrugged. ‘All she said was, she was looking for work.’

‘She’s white, is she?’

‘Yeah, why?’

‘No reason. What does she look like?’

‘Not too bad at all, I’d say.’

Michael turned around to his minder and said, ‘Sounds harmless. Let’s get a sconce of her, shall we?’

Charlie was sitting in the corner by the large grey safe, reading the
Sun
. His black hair was neatly cut and he was dressed in a crisp white short-sleeved shirt and well-pressed black trousers. He could have been handsome, but his face was unnaturally beige and there was a deadness about it, like a dummy in the window of a menswear store.

‘Molloy says it’s a darkie you have to watch out for,’ he said. He had a distinct Limerick accent but no intonation in his voice at all. When one of Michael’s creditors had threatened him, Charlie had said, ‘Come here, boy, and I’ll kick the heart outa ya,’ but he had said it so flatly that it was difficult to tell if he meant it or not.

There was a loud clumping of wedge-heeled sandals on the spiral staircase and then the girl appeared. She was young, about seventeen or eighteen Michael would have guessed, because she still hadn’t quite outgrown her puppy fat. She was pretty, though, with a heart-shaped face and curly ash-blonde hair. She was wearing a very short white mini-skirt and a sleeveless black satin top. Michael sat back in his chair and noted with appreciation that she was very big-breasted.

‘Well, hello,’ he said, dropping his ballpen on to his desk. ‘And what’s your name?’

‘Are you Mr Gerrety?’ the girl asked him, glancing nervously from Michael to Charlie and back again.

‘That’s me,’ said Michael. ‘Don’t be taking any notice of him, he’s just part of the furniture, aren’t you, Charlie?’

‘That’s me,’ said Charlie, without raising his eyes from his newspaper. ‘Charlie the chair.’

‘My name’s Branna. A friend of mine told me you could help me find work.’

‘Here, sit down, you don’t have to be nervous,’ said Michael. ‘What kind of work are you after?’

Branna sat down on the very edge of the bentwood chair on the opposite side of Michael’s desk, with her knees together and her feet splayed out. ‘Like, you know, escort services, that kind of thing.’

‘Have you done anything like that before?’

‘No, never. I was working at Dunne’s up at Ballyvolane for a while, but then they accused me of taking make-up which I never did but they sacked me anyway. I did a bit of waitressing and then a bit of bar work but the money’s rubbish, and my friend said that you paid really good money.’

Michael smiled. ‘You can make good money if you work through me, but you have to earn it. You have to meet a lot of different men and you have to be nice to them, which is not always easy.’

‘I think I’d be good at it. I really do. I’ve always been a great listener. Anyway, they take you out and stuff, these men, don’t they? Buy you meals and drinks and all that. I wouldn’t mind if some of them were boring.’

‘Sometimes they want something in return for taking you out.’

‘You mean like sex?’ said Branna. ‘I’m not a total innocent, Mr Gerrety. If a man’s given you a really good evening out, there’s nothing wrong in it at all. He deserves a cuddle, you know, or whatever.’

When she said that, she parted her knees a little. Michael didn’t look down, but kept his eyes fixed on hers.

‘What if that’s
all
he wants? What if he’s not interested in taking you out for the evening, but just wants the sex?’

Branna lowered her eyelashes for a moment and gave a small, self-satisfied smile that Michael couldn’t interpret. He liked to believe that he could read women better than books – not that he ever read books. Branna’s expression, though, was like a hieroglyph. It meant something. It might even have meant something significant, but he couldn’t understand what.

Charlie said, ‘Ten past eleven, Mr Gerrety.’

Michael checked his watch. ‘Shite, I didn’t realize it was so late. I have an important meeting at the Maryborough like ten minutes ago. Listen, Branna, why don’t you come and see me at home so that we can discuss everything in detail? I can tell you how you can use my website to advertise your escort services, and what it’ll cost you, and what you’re likely to be earning after all of your expenses. I won’t try to finagle you at all. I’m the straightest guy in the business. You ask anyone.’

‘Expenses?’ asked Branna. ‘What expenses?’

‘Well, for instance, do you have a place of your own, a place that’s suitable for bringing a man back to? If a feller’s bought you dinner at the Hayfield Manor he’s going to expect something a bit classier than a bedsit with a single bed heaped up with teddy bears and a poster of Pa Cronin on the wall.’

‘I’m sharing with a friend at the moment. You know, because I’m so broke, like. It’s my friend who suggested I come to see you. I expect she can’t wait to see the back of me.’

‘There you are, you see, you’ll need a decent room, and I can provide you with that, but I can’t let you have it buckshee. That’s what I mean by expenses.’

He stood up, took his wallet out of his back trouser pocket and handed her a business card. ‘That’s where I live, The Elysian. I can’t see you tonight because I have to go to a charity banquet, but make it tomorrow evening, say around seven? There’s guards on the door outside but I’ll let them know that you’re expected. Show them that card and they’ll let you in.’

Branna stood up, too. ‘I’m excited now,’ she told him.

‘Well, you’re a very good-looking young lady if you don’t mind my saying so. I think you’ll be raking it in. How old are you, incidentally? You don’t mind my asking but some girls these days look a whole lot older than they really are.’

‘Yeah, like my girlfriend,’ said Charlie.

‘I’m nineteen,’ said Branna.

Michael gave her a paternal pat on the back and guided her towards the spiral staircase. He stood at the bottom as she went back upstairs so that he could see up her skirt. Charlie came and joined him and said, ‘Yes or no?’

‘Thong,’ said Michael.

‘Oh well. Halfway there.’

‘Come on,’ Michael told him. ‘We’re going to be late, and you know how much I hate to be late. It gives people the chance to cut the back off you before you arrive, and then they’re all sardonic smiles and you don’t know why.’

‘If I catch anybody smiling at you like that, boss, I’ll give them a kick in the back of the forehead, don’t you worry.’ He hesitated, and then he said, ‘What’s “sardonic”? Is that looking at you like a fish, like?’

‘We’ve found the vehicle,’ said Detective Sergeant ó Nuallán, solemnly.

Katie was standing by her office window, staring at the Elysian Tower with its dull grey concrete and its shiny green glass. It made her feel like a knight in a fairy story – a knight who can see the wicked king’s castle in the distance, but who is bound by a spell not to enter it, and so is powerless to put an end to his reign of evil.

It was raining, but only softly, although the hooded crows that were clustered on top of the car park would occasionally flap their wings in irritation.

‘Where?’ she asked.

‘The shopping centre car park at Ballyvolane, burned out. The only thing was, the front wasn’t too badly burned, and there was damage on the bumper that matches the rear of your car, as well as traces of blue metallic paint, which we’ve already sent off to be analysed.’

‘What was it?’

‘Nissan X-Trail 4×4. It went missing from Nolan’s Construction at Dennehy’s Cross two days ago.’

Katie turned away from the window and went back to her desk. ‘Whoever stole it, they were after me. I don’t have any doubt about that. Nobody saw it being stolen, I suppose?’

‘It happened at night, apparently. The wire fence around their building yard was cut through.’

‘I wonder if it was Obioma,’ said Katie. ‘Like, it was a very terrorist thing to do. Take out the leader of the people who are looking for you, and throw them into a state of fear and uncertainty. While they’re all flapping their hands and running around in circles, she can go in quick and complete her mission – which is to kill Michael Gerrety.’

‘You really think she would target you like that?’

‘Yes, I do. She looks beautiful, and she’s already eliminated four people without whom we all agree the city of Cork is a much better place, but she’s utterly and completely ruthless. What’s more, she’s totally unafraid. I really believe that if I had shot her in that flat in Washington Street, she would have blown her own brains out just to make sure that I suffered for it.’

Detective Sergeant ó Nuallán came a little closer. ‘How’s your father?’ she asked.

Katie made a face. ‘How do you think? He’s in bits. I stayed the night with him last night and all I could hear was him howling. I’ve never heard a man howl like that before. It was like a dog baying at the moon.’

‘And how are you?’

‘Me? I’m very upset, of course. I didn’t know Ailish very well, but she took such good care of my father and I hadn’t seen him so happy since my mother passed.’

‘I wasn’t talking about Ailish,’ said Detective Sergeant ó Nuallán. ‘I meant you and John. How are you coping with that?’

Katie frowned at her. ‘Me and John? What about me and John? That’s none of your business, Kyna.’

Detective Sergeant ó Nuallán said, ‘I’m sorry, ma’am. I apologize. I didn’t mean to stick my nose in, considering your rank and all. It’s just that your John phoned me this morning and asked me to keep an eye on you and make sure that you were okay.’

‘I don’t believe this,’ said Katie. ‘I’m surprised he didn’t phone the
Echo
as well. Then everybody would have known about us.’

‘I’m really sorry, but he said you had mentioned my name to him and seemed to believe I was reliable. Which I take only as a compliment – not as a free pass to interfere in your personal life.’

‘Go on, then,’ said Katie. She was finding it hard to keep her voice steady. ‘What did he say to you?’

‘If you’d rather I just backed off—’ said Detective Sergeant ó Nuallán.

‘No, tell me what he said to you. Please. I want to know.’

‘All right. He said that you were breaking up, the two of you. He said that he couldn’t stay in Cork because he didn’t feel at home here any more, but he couldn’t expect you to go to America with him because of your job.’

Katie took a deep breath, and then she said, ‘Well, yes. That’s right. That’s about the shape of it. Was that all he said?’

‘He asked me to make sure that you were all right. Just keep an eye on you, like.’

‘Well, thank you, Kyna. I expect I’ll survive. I don’t really have much of a choice, do I?’

Detective Sergeant ó Nuallán’s eyes were glistening with tears.

‘He also said that he loved you more than life itself, and that whatever happened he would never forget you, ever.’

That was more than Katie could take. Standing in front of Detective Sergeant ó Nuallán she started sobbing, her fists clenched in frustration that she couldn’t stop herself. She simply stood there with her eyes squeezed tight shut and the tears pouring down her cheeks,. Her chest hurt so much that she was hardly able to draw breath.

Detective Sergeant ó Nuallán put her arms around her and hugged her very close. Katie knew how wrong this was, but she desperately needed somebody to hold her, whoever it was. Detective Sergeant ó Nuallán shushed her and stroked her hair and very gently rocked her. Katie could smell her floral deodorant and feel her breasts pressing against hers. She hadn’t felt so comforted for as long as she could remember, and perhaps the wrongness of it made it all the more comforting.

She lifted her head up and opened her eyes. Detective Sergeant ó Nuallán was smiling at her tenderly.

‘Katie,’ she said, so softly that Katie could hardly hear her, and then she kissed her on the lips.

Their kissing was tentative at first, but then Detective Sergeant ó Nuallán ran her fingers into Katie’s hair and kissed her harder, and slipped her tongue into her mouth. They kissed for almost half a minute, more and more passionately, holding each other close. At last they let go, although their fingers trailed together as if both of them were reluctant for this to be over.

‘Well,’ said Katie. ‘What can I say to you? That was lovely.’

Detective Sergeant ó Nuallán said nothing, and Katie thought she could understand why. She didn’t want to say that she was sorry, because she wasn’t, but at the same time she didn’t want to admit how she felt about Katie, because she probably didn’t know how she felt herself. Not only that, but Katie knew that she adored her job and didn’t want to jeopardize it.

‘Why don’t you go and see how the Technical Bureau are getting on with the Nissan,’ Katie suggested. ‘And ask Detective Ryan to check if it appears on any CCTV in the past couple of days? If they stole it in Dennehy’s Cross, it’s likely they drove it past Victoria Cross or Magazine Road or else they took it round the South Ring, and there are cameras at all of those locations.’

Detective Sergeant ó Nuallán nodded, and said, ‘Yes, ma’am. I’ll have Horgan check with the pathologist, too, to see if he’s completed his post mortem on Mister Dessie.’

Katie smiled at her. She could still feel the tears drying on her cheeks, and still taste Detective Sergeant ó Nuallán’s lip gloss. ‘Thank you,’ she said. And then she said, ‘Thank you,’ again, and they both knew what that was for.

Detective Dooley called her just after 4 p.m. to see if she could help him make sense of some scribbled notebook reports. While she was standing over his desk trying to decipher a witness statement that looked as if it had been written in the dark, in the rain, Katie’s iPhone played
And it’s no, nay, never –
no, nay never no more
—