The Devil Read Free Page A

said,
    'I'll get right on it.'
    Took her telephone number and was so relieved when she
    stood up and said,
    'Thank you so much, Mr Taylor.'
    I gave her the hollow bullshite about not to worry, I'd get
    right on it, and finally she was gone.
    A new case.
    I was w o r k i n g . W h e n the whole country was losing their
    jobs, I'd just been hired.
    Was I delighted?
    Was I fuck.
    Ray brought my dinner and I'm sure it was up to their
    usual excellence, but my mind . . . Jesus, that photo, that
    w o m a n . Shannon airport and my, dare I say, curt response.
    I shrugged it off, shouted,
    'Ray, got any more tartar sauce?'
    This seems too crazy to be true, but within two days of my
    arrival back in Galway, I'd found a place to live.
    A guy I knew was emigrating, like so many, and wanted
    to rent his apartment.
    In Nun's Island!
    33
    KEN BRUEN
    My previous case had involved nuns and was a bitter and
    twisted series of events.
    I took the apartment.
    It overlooked the Salmon Weir Bridge, not that I'd see any
    of those gorgeous creatures jumping, the poisoned water
    had killed them off.
    It had w o o d floors, two bedrooms, a tiny kitchen and a
    large sitting room, crammed with books.
    Books.
    A l w a y s and ever my desperate salvation.
    A coffee-maker, washing machine and an internet
    connection.
    W h a t more could you want?
    A p a r t from
    love,
    care,
    purpose,
    family,
    belonging.
    I was so long from any of the above, you think I'd be used
    to it.
    N o p e .
    Few things as lonely as shopping for one, and eating alone
    in your o w n home, aw fuck, that is the pits.
    Y o u keep the TV on, the radio in the mornings, just to
    blank out that awful silence.
    As usual, I had me favourite music:
    Gretchen Peters,
    Johnny D u h a n ,
    34
    THE DEVIL
    T o m Russell.
    I had two friends.
    Sort of.
    Ridge, Ni lomaire, a gay G u a r d , w h o had recently, in a
    desperate effort for promotion and to belong, married an
    Anglo-Irish landowner, w h o ' d lost his wife and was merely
    seeking companionship and a mother for his teenage
    daughter.
    H o w was that w o r k i n g out for her?
    H o w d o you think?
    Every case I'd worked, she'd been involved and we had a
    love/hate relationship of the Irish kind. That is, we tore strips
    off each other, verbally, every chance we got, and yet had saved
    each other's arses more times than we'd believed possible.
    A n d then there was Stewart.
    Y o u want to talk enigmatic?
    H e ' d been a highly successful dope dealer, looked and
    dressed like an accountant, till his sister was murdered
    and he engaged me.
    By pure fluke, I solved the case. Stewart went to prison on
    dope charges, back when it seemed like the government gave
    a shite, and emerged a Z e n , deadly, totally unreadable ally.
    He and Ridge had paid for my ticket to America.
    I'd phoned them and Ridge had said,
    ' Y o u stupid bollix.'
    Stewart went,
    ' Y o u can travel without moving.'
    I preferred Ridge's response.
    35
    3
    'The Divil loves those who deny his existence.'
    O l d Irish proverb
    I'd barely got started on the case of the student, had asked
    round and mostly heard he'd been a nose-to-the-grindstone
    kind of guy.
    Sure, he partied at weekends, but seemed to take the idea
    of getting his degree very seriously.
    One girl, a very pretty wee thing, told me,
    'Lately, he got involved in ouija boards and all that occult
    crap, began reading books about Aleister Crowley and shit.'
    I was about to say, thank you very much when she added,
    'Then he met L o r d of the frigging Dance.'
    I nearly said,
    ' M i c h a e l Flatley?'
    Bit d o w n and waited.
    She said,
    ' M r K himself, turned up recently and has like . . .'
    I'd have sworn she was Irish, but she had that half-arsed
    American idiom gig going, and sure, used the w o r d like.
    Like a lot.
    I asked,
    39
    KEN BRUEN
    ' A n d he is? Mr K, I mean, w h o is he?'
    She gave a world-weary sigh that proved she was indeed
    Irish, then said,
    ' H e preaches some weird bullshite about empowering