The Color of Blood

“Well tell it to me then. The whole story.”

There was a sound from the room above, a floorboard creak, a door slam. I went out to the hall and looked up the stairs.

“There’s no one here,” Brock said. “These old houses, they make all sorts of noise. Especially at night. It’s like they’re alive and breathing. Put the fear of God into you if you’re on your own.”

I came back in and nodded at him. Brock looked anxiously at Tommy, leant forward in his chair, and said, “Your friend Tommy’s making me nervous there, with the pacing and all. And since he’s a major part of the story, I wouldn’t like to feel…inhibited while I was telling it.”

I looked around.

“Tommy, stand still, will you?”

Tommy stopped pacing, and instead stood swaying, the energy converted but sustained. I don’t know how much calmer that made Brock feel, but he began to speak anyway.

“As I say, Tommy there starts the whole thing off, there’s been some shenanigans between his daughter and Brady and the Howard one. Now I have nothing to do with this, my connection comes through Sean Moon.”

“Tell us about Moon.”

“Sean Moon is a character. In fact, he’s a bunch of them. That’s his whole thing, he can be a hard man, an earnest office type, round Honeypark he was like a big kid really, wasn’t he, a bit sad, a bit of a loser? That’s a useful one, get into all sorts of situations that way, no one takes him seriously until they have to. He’s the son of an old, of a late…colleague of mine, I always took an interest in him. Had a little bit of spark, of brain, of wit…no surprise to you I’m sure, but that’s so rare as to be unique in my business…my former business. Anyway, I’ve been buying up houses around Honeypark, Woodpark, and I asked Sean in to just keep an eye on them, pick up the vibe in the area, who’s dealing, who’s paying off who, the usual, and I own the pub there now of course, Moon’s a way of…he’s another eye.”

“So what happens, Brady gets hooked up with Moon-”

“Through the Reillys, who are dealing coke there and looking to build, and fair enough, better them inside pissing out than the reverse, but you want to keep them at a distance, which is why Moon is there. Brady has to make this blue movie for head-the-ball here, but he needs a location-doesn’t want to do it in his own place, or the family home, or anywhere people might recognize. Now Brady’s getting his coke from Darren Reilly, and he mentions that he needs somewhere, and Reilly brings it to Moon, who has a few options, houses I’ve bought. He runs it past me, I’m, whatever, don’t draw attention to yourselves, keep the curtains shut and all.”

“And where does Maria come into it?”

“Now, I don’t like this any more than you do. Moon’s weakness is for women-”

“You’re telling me Maria Kravchenko went with Moon…I mean, did you notice she’s a beautiful woman? And he’s a fat fuck.”

“Ah now, way of the world, boys, Moon scrubbed up in his Armani and a roll of bills, you’d be surprised the caliber of trim he can snag. Not saying they’re only in it for the money, but a certain type of bar, a certain type of girl, they’re out for a good time right now.”

“She didn’t look like she was having a good time tonight, did she?”

“Well. That just got out of hand there, that was something that shouldn’t have happened-”

“It was set up to happen. What, did you promise to swap the Reillys Maria for the blackmail money?”

“The blackmail…it should never have gone that far.”

“Blackmailing the Howards, that was Brady’s idea.”

“Right. I think he used it with Moon as an incentive. I said don’t use it, the power lies in not using it, in not making the threat. It’s something to hold down the road, in case you need it. But when the Reillys heard about blackmailing Shane Howard, it was like all their Christmases had come at once, you know, they could screw this rich cunt until the end of time. And Moon strung them along, you know, send Howard a note, all this, careful not to name a place to dump the cash.”

“He named a time: Thursday at noon. What was he going to do?”

“He was getting to it. He was stringing the Reillys along, because of course they got into the whole porno thing themselves, they wanted to be making dirty movies, so Moon was filling them full of all that, he was going to divert them-”

“Using Maria as bait.”

“Yeah.”

“Maria, who he was holding captive. Where was she though, she wasn’t at the house in Honeypark. Was she here?”

“She wasn’t a whatdoyoucallit, a sex slave or anything.”

“In the porn film.”

“She went along with that. I can only tell you what Moon told me, I can’t be certain.”

“She was here, and then you brought her out last night, up the mountains-”

“Darren Reilly wouldn’t let the blackmail thing drop, so he sent his own demand, he let Moon know he was doing it, he told him he’d split it with him fifty-fifty, or Moon could have it all if they could have Maria no questions asked. I wanted Moon to take them out on the street, arrange a hit, motorcyclist at the lights, bang bang and back in the local for last orders. Moon said no, too many leaks. But he wanted me to come too. Impress the Reillys, he said, put them at their ease, make them think they were stepping up in class.”

“And Maria…no wonder she was scared. You told her what to do?”

“That’s what made me nervous, that she’d get caught in the cross fire if the Reillys started shooting. Moon said that’s why he packed the sub, they wouldn’t have time to draw, time to think.”

“Your only concern was Maria, was it?”

“I’m just telling you what happened. I mean, it was one of those fucking situations, suddenly you’re sniffing around, David Brady’s dead, the Howard woman, the whole malarkey. The Reillys had to go, but lesson learned, don’t let the wrong kind of people in on anything. Don’t need that. I’m a publican and a property developer and a businessman.”

“If that was true, you’d need to stop hanging around with the likes of Sean Moon. Who could probably do with a trip to Accident and Emergency, that little head wound of his.”

Taylor’s face suddenly became more animated than it’d been all evening.

“Fuckin’ A &E, fucking four-and five-and ten-hour waits, fucking government. You know the real scandal? No matter what you can afford to pay, you have an accident and you have to go to A &E, you end up with all the muck-savages and lepers and scum who don’t have an arse to their trousers. How can that be fair, that even if you have the fucking cash, they won’t let you jump the fucking queue?”

The chandelier above him gave his hair a sculpted, artificial appearance, as if it were a wig and he were channeling the spirit of some elegant, grasping ghost who once bestrode Fitzwilliam Square with imperial entitlement. I got up and looked at Tommy; he grimaced at me, still shamefaced. I gave him a wink, then turned back to Brock Taylor.

“Are those your cars? The lockup in Woodpark, and around the city? Hot cars made over for the less fussy type of client?”

Taylor grinned, as if I’d touched on one of his roguish but endearing foibles.

“Tommy tell you that, did he? Heard about that. I knew he remembered me. That’s how I knew you too, Edward Loy. I used to work for your da, Eamonn, that garage he ran between Woodpark and Seafield. Years ago. Worked alongside head-the-ball, when he was just out of school. Did he not tell you?”

“Is that where you’re from then, Brock? Woodpark?”

“Nah. Blessington Street. Northside boy me. Come up in the world, haven’t I?” And he beamed expansively around the beautiful elegant old room he now owned.

I paused at the door.

“Eileen Casey. Name mean anything to you?”

Not a flicker.

“No. Should it?”

“Eileen Dalton.”

He shook his large head.

“But you did ride a motorcycle, right?”