To Cut a Long Story Short (2000) (24 page)

‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But there have been five of them in the past seven years, and what with not wishing to harm their promotion prospects, their desire for an easy
life, or straightforward bribery, not one of them has been willing to cooperate. The current Garda Chief is only months away from retirement, and won’t do anything that might harm his
pension. No,’ continued Billy, ‘whichever way you look at it, I’ve failed. And I can tell you, unlike my opposite number, if I could sort out Eamonn O’Flynn once and for
all, I would even be willing to forgo my pension.’

‘Well, you still have another six weeks, and after all you’ve told me, I’d be relieved if O’Flynn was off the patch before I took over. So let’s see if I can come
up with a solution that will solve both our problems.’

‘I’d agree to anything, short of murdering the man - and don’t think that hasn’t crossed my mind.’

Jim Hogan laughed, looked at his watch and said, ‘I must be getting back to Belfast.’

The old Chief nodded, downed his last drop of Guinness and accompanied his colleague to the carpark at the back of the pub. Hogan didn’t speak again until he was seated behind the wheel of
his car. He turned on the engine and wound the window down.

‘Are you going to have a farewell party?’

‘Yes,’ said the Chief. ‘On the Saturday before I retire. Why do you ask?’

‘Because I always think a farewell party is an occasion to let bygones be bygones,’ said Jim, without explanation.

The Chief looked puzzled as Jim drove out of the carpark, turned right, and headed north towards Belfast.

Eamonn O’Flynn was somewhat surprised to receive the invitation, as he hadn’t expected to feature on the Chief of Police’s guest list.

Maggie studied the embossed card inviting them to Chief Gibson’s farewell party at the Queen’s Arms in Ballyroney.

Are you going to accept?’ she asked.

‘Why would I want to do that,’ responded Eamonn, ‘when the bastard has spent the past six years trying to put me behind bars?’

‘Perhaps it’s his way of burying the hatchet,’ suggested Maggie.

‘Yes, right in the middle of my back, would be my bet. In any case, surely you wouldn’t want to be seen dead with that lot.’

‘Now, there’s where you’re wrong for once,’ said Maggie.

‘Why’s that?’

‘Because it would amuse me to see the faces of the wives of those councillors, not to mention the police officers, I’ve shared a bed with.’

‘But it could turn out to be a trap.’

‘I can’t imagine how,’ said Maggie, ‘when we know for certain that them in the South won’t give us any trouble, and anyone who could in the North is sure to be at
the party.’

‘That wouldn’t stop them raiding our place while we’re off the premises.’

‘What a disappointment that will be for them,’ said Maggie, ‘when they discover the staff have been given the night off, and it’s nothing more than the home of two
decent, law-abiding citizens.’

Eamonn remained sceptical, and it wasn’t until Maggie arrived back from Dublin with a new dress she wanted everyone to see her in that he finally surrendered and agreed to accompany her to
the party. ‘But we won’t stay for more than an hour, and that’s my final word on the subject,’ he warned her.

When they left the house on the night of the party, Eamonn checked that every window was locked and every door was bolted before he set the alarm. He then drove slowly around
the perimeter of his land, warning all the guards to be especially careful and to call him on his mobile if they spotted anything suspicious - and he meant anything.

Maggie, who was checking her hair in the car mirror, told him that if he took much longer there wouldn’t be any party left to go to.

When they walked into the ballroom of the Queen’s Arms half an hour later, Billy Gibson seemed genuinely pleased to see them, which only made Eamonn feel even more suspicious.

‘I don’t think you’ve met my successor,’ said the Chief, before introducing Eamonn and Maggie to Jim Hogan. ‘But I’m sure you know of his
reputation.’

Eamonn knew of his reputation only too well, and wanted to return home immediately, but someone pressed a pint of Guinness into his hand, and a young constable asked Maggie for a dance.

While she was dancing, Eamonn looked around the room to see if there was anyone he knew. Far too many, he concluded, and couldn’t wait for an hour to pass so he could go home. But then his
eyes rested on Mick Burke, a local pickpocket who was serving behind the bar. Eamonn was surprised that, with Mick’s record, they had let him past the front door. But at least he had found
someone he could have a quiet chat to.

When the band stopped playing, Maggie joined the queue for food and filled a plate with salmon and new potatoes. She took the offering across to Eamonn, who for a few minutes looked almost as if
he was enjoying himself. After a second helping he started swapping stories with one or two members of the Garda, who appeared to be hanging on his every word.

But the moment Eamonn heard eleven chime on the ballroom clock, he suddenly wanted to escape. ‘Even Cinderella didn’t leave the ball before twelve,’ Maggie told him. ‘And
in any case, it would be rude to leave just as the Chief’s about to deliver his farewell speech.’

The toastmaster banged his gavel and called for order. A warm round of applause greeted Billy Gibson as he stepped forward to take his place in front of the microphone. He rested his speech on
the lectern and smiled down at the assembled gathering.

‘My friends,’ he began, ‘ - not to mention one or two sparring partners.’ He raised his glass in the direction of Eamonn, delighted to see he was still among them.
‘It is with a heavy heart that I appear before you tonight, aware of how much I am indebted to all of you.’ He paused. ‘And I mean
all
of you.’ Cheers and catcalls
followed these remarks, and Maggie was delighted to see that Eamonn was joining in the laughter.

‘Now, I well remember when I first joined the force. That was when things were really tough.’ More cheers followed, and louder catcalls from the young. The noise died down eventually
when the Chief resumed his speech, no one wishing to deny him the opportunity of reminiscing at his own farewell party.

Eamonn was still sober enough to notice the young constable entering the room, an anxious look on his face. He made his way quickly towards the stage, and although he evidently didn’t feel
able to interrupt Billy’s speech, he carried out Mr Hogan’s instructions and placed a note in the middle of the lectern.

Eamonn began to fumble for his mobile, but he couldn’t find it in any of his pockets. He could have sworn he’d had it with him when he arrived.

‘When I hand in my badge at midnight …’ Billy said, glancing down at his speech to see the note in front of him. He paused and adjusted his glasses, as if trying to take in the
significance of the message, then frowned and looked back up at his guests. ‘I must apologise, my friends, but it seems that there’s been an incident on the border that requires my
personal attention. I have no choice but to leave immediately, and ask that all ranking officers join me outside. I hope our guests will continue to enjoy the party, and be assured we’ll
return just as soon as we’ve sorted the little problem out.’

Only one person reached the front door before the Chief, and he was driving out of the carpark before even Maggie realised he’d left the room. However, the Chief, siren blaring, still
managed to overtake Eamonn some two miles from the border.

‘Shall I have him stopped for speeding?’ asked the Chief ‘s driver.

‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Billy Gibson. ‘What’s the point of this whole performance if the principal actor is unable to make an entrance?’

When Eamonn brought his car to a halt at the edge of his property a few minutes later, he found it encircled by thick blue-and-white tape proclaiming ‘DANGER. DO NOT ENTER.’

He jumped out of his car and ran over to the Chief, who was receiving a briefing from a group of officers.

‘What the hell is going on?’ demanded Eamonn.

‘Ah, Eamonn, I’m so glad you were able to make it. I was just about to call you, in case you were still at the party. It seems that about an hour ago an IRA patrol was spotted on
your land.’

‘Actually, that hasn’t been confirmed,’ said a young officer, who was listening intently to someone on a hand-phone. ‘There’s conflicting intelligence coming out of
Ballyroney suggesting that they may have been loyalist paramilitaries.’

‘Well, whoever they are, my first interest must be the protection of lives and property, and to that end I’ve sent in the bomb squad to make sure it will be safe for you and Maggie
to return to your home.’

‘That’s bollocks, Billy Gibson, and you know it,’ said Eamonn. ‘I’m ordering you off my land before I instruct my men to forcibly remove you.’

‘Well, it’s not quite as easy as that,’ said the Chief. ‘You see, I’ve just had a message from the bomb squad that they’ve already broken into your house.
You’ll be relieved to know they found no one on the premises, but they were most concerned to come across an unidentifiable package in the conservatory, and a similar one in the
garage.’

‘But they’re nothing more than …’

‘Nothing more than what?’ asked the Chief innocently.

‘How did your people manage to get past my guards?’ demanded Eamonn. ‘They had orders to throw you off if you put so much as a toe on my land.’

‘Now there’s the thing, Eamonn. They must have wandered off your property for a moment without realising it, and because of the imminent danger to their lives I felt it necessary to
take them all into custody. For their own protection, you understand.’

‘I’ll bet you don’t even have a search warrant to enter my property.’

‘I don’t need one,’ said the Chief, ‘if I’m of the opinion that someone’s life is in danger.’

‘Well, now you know that no one’s life is in danger, and never was in the first place, you can get off my property and back to your party.’

‘There’s my next problem, Eamonn. You see, we’ve just had another call, this time from an anonymous informant, to warn us that he has placed a bomb in the garage and another in
the conservatory, and that they’ll be detonated just before midnight. The moment I was informed of this threat, I realised that it was my duty to check the safety manual to find out what the
correct procedure is in circumstances such as these.’ The Chief removed a thick green booklet from an inside pocket, as if it were always with him.

‘You’re bluffing,’ said O’Flynn. ‘You don’t have the authority to …’

‘Ah, here’s what I was after,’ said the Chief, after he had flicked over a few pages. Eamonn looked down to see a paragraph underlined in red ink.

‘Let me read you the exact words, Eamonn, so that you’ll fully comprehend the terrible dilemma I’m facing. “
If an officer above the rank of Major or Chief Inspector
believes that the lives of civilians may be at risk at the scene of a suspected terrorist attack, and he has a qualified member of the bomb squad present, he must first clear the area of all
civilians and, having achieved this, if he deems it appropriate, carry out an isolated explosion
.” Couldn’t be clearer,’ said the Chief. ‘Now, are you able to let me
know what’s in those boxes, Eamonn? If not, I must assume the worst, and proceed according to the book.’

‘If you harm my property in any way, Billy Gibson, let me warn you that I’ll sue you for every penny you’re worth.’

‘You’re worrying unnecessarily, Eamonn. Let me reassure you that there’s page after page in the manual concerning compensation for innocent victims. We would naturally feel it
our obligation to rebuild your lovely home, brick by brick, recreating a conservatory Maggie would be proud of and a garage large enough to house all your cars. However, if we were to spend that
amount of taxpayers’ money, we would have to ensure that the house was built on one side of the border or the other, so that an unhappy incident such as this one could never happen
again.’

‘You’ll never get away with it,’ said Eamonn, as a heavily-built man appeared by the Chief’s side, carrying a plunger.