said. “And I need your assistance and advice as to how best to do it.”
“I’m not sure what exactly you’re proposing,” said O’Tuaime affably.
“I want the Army to provide me with a list of persons in the ranks who admit to being members of Opus Dei and any other confraternities like that, such as the Knights of Columbus. I want an accounting for the use of Army firearms and expenditure of ammunition in the last while. And a note of missing ammunition, high-velocity ammunition, susceptible of being fired by a handgun.”
O’Tuaime’s boyish face broke into a smile. Minogue heard feet shuffling behind the Commissioner’s desk. Even Tynan was moved to cross his legs and avert his gaze.
“Confraternities?” asked O’Tuaime, the smile a little more indulgent now, as though he was sure he was dealing with a naive child. “Are you telling me that religious associations are particularly suspect?”
“Yes.”
“Ah, but Inspector,” rejoined O’Tuaime quickly in Irish, “this is a kind of an upside-down thing, isn’t it? The more disciplined and honourable are to be heading your list of suspects?”
O’Tuaime’s Irish translated ‘suspects’ as ‘gangsters’. Minogue believed that O’Tuaime had chosen that word to add a hint of sarcasm.
“I’m sure that the associations are full of dedicated, honest men, General. It’s merely a lead that I cannot ignore. Were this information to be gathered discreetly, as I’m proposing, the men would have no need of feeling slighted. Nobody’s saying that these associations harbour criminals. If I were looking for a murderer involved in banking, say, would that mean that I considered all bankers suspect?”
“That’s a good one,” said the Commissioner. “You picked the right crowd there, I’m telling you. They might be all crooks. I like that.”
O’Tuaime’s smile had settled.
“Nicely put, Inspector. But we’re talking about a group of responsible and dedicated people here. I can tell you that membership of confraternities in the Army is almost exclusively drawn from commissioned officer ranks. These are men who want to serve their country and their people, and hold to the lights of their religion. There’s nothing sinister about that-except perhaps in a cynical age. It takes the cynic to see and fear the dedicated, thus to scorn him.”
Minogue didn’t know what to say. O’Tuaime had kept the tone gentle, so much so that the rhetoric had not grated much on Minogue. O’Tuaime’s ease with Irish was so evident that Minogue almost forgot that the man’s use of the language was a rebuff to him.
“So the Army knows which of its members belongs to confraternities?”
“That is so,” replied O’Tuaime. “Our oath obliges us to so inform our commanding officers.”
“What about Opus Dei?”
“There are Opus Dei members in the Army too, I’m sure,” O’Tuaime replied easily. “But I don’t know for certain.”
“Do you mean that they might not observe their oath and make their membership known?”
“I believe from hearsay that that organization explains to its members that its own membership vows are directed toward a higher Commanding Officer,” said O’Tuaime. He glanced briefly at the ceiling. Tynan smiled. “God doesn’t have to tell our Chief-of-Staff what’s going on, you see,” added O’Tuaime.
“Is Opus Dei a problem, then? For you and the High Command, I mean?”
O’Tuaime paused before answering.
“It has been mentioned as a concern before-only on the basis that Opus Dei members don’t inform their superiors of their membership. We have tended to be lenient, and given them the benefit of the doubt.”
“ ‘Them’, Major-General?”
“Those officers who may be members of Opus Dei. These officers who we believed were members were in every case exemplary soldiers and citizens. There’s been nothing to suggest any conflict in loyalties for a man to be in Opus Dei. In fact membership might even add to an officer’s value as an indicator of his dedication and service.”
“Will you draw up a list of those officers who are members of Opus Dei?”
“I have already said that there may be Opus Dei members in the Army.”
“You mentioned exemplary officers: you must be thinking of specific men.”
“I am guessing.”
“Will you give us those names, then?”
“I will not,” O’Tuaime replied in English. His tone had not changed. He was looking expectantly to Minogue as if waiting for the next question. Ever-ready, Minogue thought sourly. He must have known.
“I have no rational bases for my guesses, you see,” O’Tuaime went on, oblivious of the spell which had frozen the other men in place. “It would be irresponsible of me to claim that my guesses mean anything to anyone else, especially to a policeman who must of necessity deal with hard facts. You can see my position and my duties, I’m sure.”
O’Tuaime’s expression suggested an innocence and a happy readiness to be helpful. Without looking over, Minogue knew that Tynan’s eyes had settled on him again. The Commissioner now had a small silver pen doing tricks on his desk.
“Can we move on to the arms and ammunition issue, then?” Minogue said.
“To be sure we can,” said O’Tuaime. “I’m a little rusty on small-arms details, but it seems to me that what you’re looking for, we won’t have. High-velocity ammunition for sidearms makes no sense for Army purposes.” He smiled wanly at Minogue. “Nonetheless, I can have a check done on both for you, and I’ll give it the highest priority.”
“That would be appreciated,” said Minogue.
“No bother at all,” O’Tuaime continued. “I should tell you, though, that you’ll have big holes in the book. I know, for example, that several companies had firearms drill and target practice with small-arms down in Wicklow over the weekend. There was a lot of live ammunition used, maybe fifty rounds a man. I don’t know if different stocks of ammunition were used. Naturally we keep track of gross amounts of expenditures there, but accounting for each and every single bullet is impossible. How many are you looking for?” O’Tuaime said guilelessly.
“Three, actually,” said Minogue.
“Firing a rifle on automatic is a standard part of practice so the bullets fairly fly when there are dozens of groups taking their turn. There’s some wastage, a small percentage-duds, actual losses we can’t put our hands on right away…”
Minogue waited before asking: “Could a person take ammunition for his own use off the firing range?”
“Yes,” O’Tuaime replied without hesitation. “Nothing is watertight. Ever.”
“Could a soldier take a firearm home with him?”
“It is very, very unlikely that he’d get away with that. We’re acutely aware of what Army weapons could be used for if they fell into the wrong hands, Inspector. Our security is as tight as a drum.”
“Do you know if soldiers who were abroad could have brought home guns illegally?”
“I do. There were two corporals court-martialled several years ago for that offence. It was a matter of grave importance for us. These men had been representing Ireland as members of a UN peace-keeping force. They brought souvenirs home here in the form of an automatic pistol and a Russian-made pistol. Two fine careers ruined-but that’s how we run our ship.”
Every avenue covered. Quick accurate answers. Was he born like this, Minogue wondered.
“Tell me this now, Inspector,” said O’Tuaime then. He folded his arms and looked genially at Minogue. “Will your investigation, applying the same rigorous checks to the Garda Siochana?”
“It certainly will,” Minogue replied quickly.
Tynan showed O’Tuaime out after handshakes all around and Hoey moved with speed when the Commissioner suggested that ‘Haughey’ could meet Minogue outside.
“Hoey,” corrected Minogue.
“Right,” said the Commissioner, watching the door close behind Hoey. He clasped his hands together and leaned his elbows on to the desk. “About you wanting to run a check on the Gardai, the same as O’Tuaime there in the Army…”
“We can’t be asking them to do things that we wouldn’t be willing to do ourselves,” said Minogue. “We have firearms and dedicated and good-living officers as well.”
