FEARLESS FINN'S MURDEROUS ADVENTURE Read Free Page B

fecker from the third century,” I smiled.
    “He was a right one for the Nordic women, isn’t that so?” gibed Mary, with a daring look directed straight at me.
    I reached across the table and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Jaysus, why didn’t I think of that meself?! You’re after giving me the answer. I’ll have to see if I can reach her. You’re brilliant Mary, feckin’ brilliant!” I announced, with as much joy as I could muster.
    Of course they haven’t a clue what I’m on about – and I’m not about to tell them. I’ve just remembered Anna, the Swedish girl I had a fling with back in Brighton. I don’t really know why, but I’ve a feeling she’ll come to the rescue and give me a bed until things settle down. I decided there and then that I’ll head across the road to the Stand Farm Pub and make a few long-distance calls in the morning…after I get my delivery from Mac.
    ———
    I’ve rung Mac and Anna, and I’m headed to Lime Street Station with my new passport. My plan is to quietly catch a train to Harwich, and then I’ll jump on a ferry to Gothenburg in southern Sweden.
    The station is swarming with police; I do not need this. There are cops – mounted on enormous horses – with serious-looking batons by their sides, and dog handlers with vicious German shepherd dogs straining at their leads. The steel-helmeted riot police are wearing anti-stab vests, and brandishing clear plastic shields that protect them from head to toe.
    “Are you catching a train?” a stern-faced sergeant asked me.
    “Yeah, hoping to. I’m trying to get to Harwich, sergeant.”
    “Catching a ferry are we, sir?”
    “Yes, to Holland,” I lied.
    “Follow me. The Man U supporters are due in any minute. They’re playing Liverpool FC and there’ll be hell to pay,” yelled the sergeant while clearing a path for me.
    It’s a funny auld world. I’m probably the most wanted man in Ireland, and here is a British police sergeant helping me on my way.
    Seeing the phone kiosks on the platform reminds me to ring Mac.
    “Mac, I’ve talked to Anna. I’m meeting her in Stockholm tomorrow.”
    “Good on ya…be sure ta keep a low profile…and keep yerself outa trouble. And enjoy those twenty-three hour Swedish nights tucked up in Anna’s arms. Don’t fret about the fuck-up in Tipp. The lads got clear and they’ve gone ta ground, just in case. The Yank ya had was interviewed on the TV and said he was well treated and never felt in fear of his life. So there ya go Finn. You’ve lost yer touch and ya can’t even put the fear o’ God in a wee little chemist. Mind yerself, and if ya come across Ingrid over there, tell her the bear says hello.”
    I stepped on the train for Harwich just as the Manchester United football supporters began pouring off their special train. I thought all the dogs, horses and shields were a bit too much…until I saw the hordes racing down the platform, straight at the waiting line of police.

3

    STOCKHOLM and UPPSALA, SWEDEN

    It’s six a.m. and I’m huddled under a lifeboat stanchion, freezing my balls off on the Harwich to Gothenburg ferry. The kidnapping fuck-up was only three days ago, but it seems longer than that.
    An icy mist hangs over the sea as we creep up towards the River Gota. We slipped silently alongside the ferry terminal, arriving to a typical Gothenburg winter’s day. There’s just a hint of daylight in the grey sky, and it’s cold as a widow’s teat.
    The moment the gangplank landed on the ground I ran down to the wharf and trudged through the snow, trying to avoid the long queue waiting for taxis. I managed to flag one down before it turned into the terminal. The taxi man dropped me at the railway station and didn’t complain when I paid him in Irish pounds – the only money I have.
    The train is just about to leave the station. I ran past the ticket collector, yelling that I’ll buy a ticket on the train.
    I telephoned Anna from the first station on the