The Devil Read Free

recovery.
    The beast was no longer slouching towards Bethlehem, he
    was in full possession and even the wondrous bright flicker
    of Barack's victory had faded.
    I was in Conlon's Fish Restaurant, best fish in the country.
    29
    KEN BRUEN
    A n d h o w they achieved that w i t h us entering the second
    year of the water being contaminated was a wonder.
    The council was proclaiming that it wasn't really the
    water but the lead pipes, and oddly, 'twas little comfort.
    Y o u either boiled all water or bought it bottled.
    I was waiting on me
    cod
    with
    mushy peas
    and drinking a coffee that tasted like coffee!
    I'd almost given up on reading the papers, but Ray
    C o n l o n had passed me the Irish Times. A photo of a w o m a n
    killed in a freak accident leaped out at me. A brief para-
    graph noted how she'd been hit by an u n k n o w n car at the
    car park in Shannon airport.
    The photo.
    M y Aer Lingus w o m a n .
    H o l y fuck.
    I lost me appetite but wouldn't hurt Ray's feelings by
    bolting.
    I wanted a large Jameson.
    Fast, wet and lethal.
    W i t h the X a n a x , I was keeping a sort of l i d on me
    drinking.
    A w o m a n was standing over me, asked,
    'Jack Taylor?'
    Jesus, if I had a Euro for the amount of times this had
    happened.
    A n d yes, always, always ended in disaster.
    30
    THE DEVIL
    My getaway was meant to put all the past horrors of my
    time as a half-arsed PI behind me.
    She was that indeterminate age between forty and fifty,
    nice face, though looking heavily burdened. Blonde hair
    pulled tight in a ferocious bun and m i l d blue eyes that had
    seen too much of the w o r l d .
    She fidgeted nervously w i t h her wedding ring, the
    Claddagh band, and that more than anything else had me
    say,
    'Yes.'
    She looked like she was going to fall d o w n , so I offered
    her the seat opposite.
    She took it and I signalled to Ray, w h o was over in jig
    time, and I asked,
    ' M a y I get you something?'
    'Some water w o u l d be nice, thank you very much.'
    Ray gave me the look and I shrugged.
    The fuck d i d I know?
    He brought a bottle of sparkling Galway water, neatly
    took the top off the bottle and poured half a glass.
    She said,
    'I hate to bother you, Mr Taylor.'
    'Jack.'
    She nodded and said,
    'I'm Teresa Jordan, a Galwegian too.'
    A rare and rarer breed.
    I waited.
    Spent all my bedraggled life doing that, though for what,
    I don't know.
    31
    KEN BRUEN
    She took a dehcate sip of the water, then said,
    ' N o e l , my eldest lad, is at N U I - one year left of Science -
    and he's disappeared. I told the Guards and they said not to
    worry, students were always up to shenanigans and he'd
    show up in his own sweet time.'
    For perhaps the first time in my whole screwed-up
    relationship w i t h the Guards, I agreed with them.
    Easy as I could, I said,
    'They are probably right. Students, they get up to mis-
    chief.'
    I couldn't believe I'd used the w o r d mischief.
    Evelyn Waugh w o u l d love me.
    H e r eyes fired, and believe me, I've seen it often enough,
    Irish women do wrath like no other women on the planet.
    'He's been missing two weeks, and missed my birthday.
    N o e l w o u l d never miss my birthday.'
    She did scream that last w o r d .
    I took out my notebook, it was for the horses and the
    latest runners and riders at Lingfield and the Curragh.
    Adopted my biz tone, like I knew what the fuck I was doing.
    'Description, friends, what clothes he might have been
    wearing, his address, and if possible, a photo.'
    A real pro.
    Right?
    I dutifully took d o w n the data and then she reached in her
    handbag, took out, like a piece of valued jewellery, a
    snapshot.
    He looked like . . .
    A thousand other young kids.
    32
    THE DEVIL
    Dark hair, long, lean face with lots of acne, nothing else
    to say. He was any face you'd see on the street, just an
    ordinary young student.
    She said,
    'I don't k n o w what you charge, Mr Taylor, but I have this.'
    Handed me a slim envelope. I had the decency or shame
    not to look inside,