“Hi, how are youse doing, I’m Brian,” he said shaking both our hands, before ushering us in. He looked to be in his forties, pepper hair with a few sprinkles of salt. He wore a casual blue shirt and black jeans. It wasn’t even that he was especially warm. But there was something about him; a sincerity.
“Good cheers, nice seeing you again,” said Mike.
“Yeah, thanks for seeing us,” I added.
“I’d offer a tea or a coffee,” he said stubbing out his smoke and shoving a pile of papers out the way. “I’m outta’ milk and I don’t think I’ve a clean cup – it’s the maid’s day off,” he said smiling. He leaned over and switched off a little portable record player in the corner of the room. The office was untidy and a little dusty, but I’d seen worse. I just couldn’t think when. There wasn’t much in the way of decoration except a well-stocked bookcase with some other vinyls resting on top of it, and a little Glentoran FC match pendent dangling off a filing cabinet to the side of the desk.
“Iron Butterfly,” he said by way of explanation, setting a bright yellow sleeve down on top of the player. “Sublime. So, what can I do for youse?”
Mike beamed at the mention of his beloved Iron Butterfly, then coughed and straightened himself in his seat.
“Maybe I should begin,” I said.
I set about starting to explain things and hesitated.
“You want to know if there’ll be any client confidentiality? Well, the short answer is yes. I don’t always operate exactly by the book myself, okay?”
“Okay, thanks,” I said, looking at Mike. He nodded to go on.
“And listen – I know that you guys may have got up to a few things that aren’t, well, necessary legal, but I’m looking at the big picture here. I know Mike a little and you seem like a nice girl. So look – worst case is I say I don’t want the gig.”
“Alright, okay,” I said, breathing out heavily, a natural and warm smile appearing on my lips. I felt better already.
I started into the story – leaving nothing out. The whole sorry mess of it. His face was serious, but he actively listened, his expression open. After about ten minutes he lit up an ordinary smoke and gestured for us to smoke too if we wanted. Mike lit himself one and offered me too. I declined. I was still trying to do better. I went on talking for another five minutes, Mike chipping in to clarify parts occasionally. Brian listened attentively, smoking. He didn’t interrupt once. When I was done, I felt nervous, but lightened. Telling a stranger was cathartic.
Maybe I need therapy.
“Well you’ve been through a time alright,” he said and reached across and squeezed my hand for a moment. “You really have.”
He put one big hand flat on the desk and took in a long breath.
“Okay, well I’m guessing that first off you want someone to trace this gang and check there’s nobody else out there who’s gonna come looking for you or the material. Am I right?”
“Yeah, got it in one,” said Mike.
I nodded, keeping my eyes on Brian, hopeful that he would agree to help us.
“Okay, the other thing I imagine is that you want someone to keep all of those materials safe?”
A nervous smirk slipped onto my mouth. “Right again,” I said.
“Okay, well, those are both something I can do. I’d be happy to help you both with this.”
“And you don’t need to tell anyone about… well.”
“No.”
He gave us both an encouraging smile.
I released a big sigh, “Thank you, Brian. That is terrific.”
“Thanks, Brian, brilliant,” agreed Mike.
“Right, well how about we discuss the finer points, somewhere a little more social?” He stood up, pulling on his coat.
We ended up staying for just the one pint together around in Horatio Todd’s bar. I was thrilled that he had agreed to take us on. That positive future that I wanted to be a reality was becoming clearer in my mind.
“I’m so relieved,” I said later, squeezing Mike’s arm as we walked back towards the car.
“I know Vick, I hoped he’d work out – I think he’s gonna really help us tie these last things up – make us feel more secure. I never thought in my life that I’d be visiting a PI,” he said with a chuckle, “Actually, maybe that could be a new career route for you,” he added, turning and grinning inanely at me, “I can see it now – Vicky Stark: Private Detective.”
I pinched his arm hard and said with a smile. “Away and fuck, Mike.”
