Two Kinds of Blood

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Two Kinds of Blood Page 24

by Jane Ryan


  ‘This was decades in the making. Richie Corrigan incorporated two companies in the Cayman Islands during the 1970s, Nasda Holdings and Slowell Ltd. He moved undeclared money from the Ansbacher Cayman Bank to Dublin in 1997. Corrigan got it over to Munster Bank Isle of Man branch and away from the Irish Revenue Commissioners. Seán Flannery lodged it for him – it’s his name on the docket – so I’m assuming Corrigan gave Flannery money for his trouble. And Flannery used it to start his drugs business.’

  ‘How did Corrigan find Flannery in ’97?’ I said.

  ‘Corrigan’s involved with Slowell?’ Chris said.

  We were speaking over one another and too loud for the small room. A half thing stirred in my memory.

  ‘You wanted the short version. You both have bits of the story – let me continue with the top-line summary. Then we’ll try and piece together the detail,’ said Amina. ‘We’ll take Slowell Ltd. first.’

  Chris half stood then sat again, unable to stay quiet. ‘Slowell Ltd. is only the logistics company Burgess Data Centre uses.’

  ‘Mike Burgess is involved with Richie Corrigan?’ I said. My neurons were firing, trying to remember if I’d ever seen Richie Corrigan and Mike Burgess in the same room. I was coming up short.

  ‘We’ve been working on it for a bit now,’ he said. ‘I told you the financial controller in BDC contacted me back in October. Saying there were anomalies, costs out of sync and such. We matched the revenue to BDC’s customers. It took some time, but Amina’s great at figures.’

  He took off his suit jacket and placed it on the back of his seat.

  Amina’s head bobbed in time with the words pouring out of her. ‘None of the BDC records fit. They’re overstating their revenue. Customers with domain names, which should cost thirty pounds or less are being invoiced for massive server configurations for tens of thousands of pounds, but these invoices are embedded among genuine invoices and held back. In fact, the sample customers I contacted were delighted with Burgess Data Centre sales and service. I can see how they got by the Inland Revenue – whoever advised BDC was an expert. All the Inland Revenue found was Declan Swan’s embezzlement. Slowell Ltd. are at the centre of Burgess Data Centre’s operation. They put in a water-based cooling system for BDC last year. Slowell Ltd. drive BDC’s profits down by 70% or more every year. It’s a legitimate business practice, many tech companies have European services centres generating administrative costs to reduce profits.’

  ‘We know Burgess wasn’t a dealer on a big scale,’ said Chris, ‘and this product is from Fuentes – found some of those markings you told me to look for, Bridge. Could be Burgess Data Centre were a holding depot for Fuentes? There’s upwards of a hundred million pound going through BDC annually.’

  ‘Cartel-size lolly,’ I said.

  ‘Aye. We reckon Richie’s using BDC to launder Fuentes money,’ said Chris.

  ‘It’s a perfect cover,’ I said. ‘It has a field crew for deliveries, a logistics company it can drain cash through and warehouses of space for drugs.’

  ‘And whatever else the Fuentes cartel fancy bringing in,’ said Chris.

  My face darkened.

  ‘Moving to Nasda Holdings,’ said Amina. ‘Given Flannery went from nought to sixty when he started his drugs business, it’s fair to assume he had a backer. An angel investor.’ Her cup was split down the middle, her fingers working piles of polystyrene snow in front of her.

  ‘Why would he have needed to be bankrolled – lad like him, wouldn’t he have stolen the money, Bridge?’ said Chris.

  I shook my head. ‘He didn’t have the skills in ’97. He was eighteen. Gavin Devereux ended up in prison for having the guts of ten ounces of high-quality cocaine in his possession and trying to sell it near a Dublin bridge. I bet Flannery was there too but escaped.’

  The scene built itself in my mind – Seán Flannery hiding by one of the granite walls lining the Liffey, making its way to the sea.

  ‘I know how Flannery got the money to the Isle of Man for Corrigan,’ I said.

  ‘How? It was a cash deposit, so a rucksack of money,’ said Amina.

  ‘He sailed there. Flannery sailed from Dalkey to Newnham on Severn last year to get rid of Emer Davidson’s body – that can’t have been easy. The Isle of Man would be no challenge to him.’

  Chris scrunched his eyes. ‘When he were eighteen?’

  ‘There’s nothing on file as to when Flannery learned to sail, but I checked last year with the yacht club he crewed at. They said he was gifted and must have started sailing young. He was brought up in a State home run by the church, so maybe sailing was a way of escaping.’

  The pen in Amina’s hand froze mid-note-taking. The reality of Flannery’s childhood hung between us, oppressive and colourless until it had burnt off all the oxygen in the room.

  Chris pushed open the meeting-room door and outside air billowed in.

  ‘So Richie gets Seán to sail over to the Isle of Man with a bag of money, to kick things off,’ he said. ‘Then they hit their stride, so Fuentes supply the drugs, Flannery sells ’em and Corrigan launders the money with the help of Burgess and BDC. How does Nasda Holdings fit in?’

  Amina moved to her next slide and I closed the door – we needed privacy.

  ‘Nasda Holdings were set up in 1971 with two directors, Richie Corrigan and Slowell Ltd. In 1982 Richie resigned as a director and was replaced by Mrs Elizabeth Harney,’ said Amina.

  ‘Your old mum is a director of Nasda Holdings, Bridge?’ said Chris. He put his arms behind his head, revealing two damp circles.

  I twiddled the aircon buttons and got a background fan going.

  ‘Yes, Mum has bank statements for Nasda Holdings at home. Richie Corrigan worked for the banker who set up the original Ansbacher scheme. Corrigan and Mum corresponded.’

  I tilted my head back to give a moment’s respite before what came next, an airing of linen rotten from decades in the dark.

  ‘Mum had a child before she met my father. She was seventeen and had a baby boy in Clarendon House, a Mother and Baby home. Richie Corrigan, although not the father, was her friend at the time. It goes a lot deeper on his side. He was twenty-one years older than her.’

  ‘He were thirty-eight and hanging around a girl of seventeen? Man of that age came sniffing around my girls I’d box his teeth in,’ said Chris.

  ‘I wish my mum had a dad like you, Chris, but she didn’t. Her closest friend was a cousin in Canada.’ My eyes found the compacted fibres of the carpet.

  ‘Corrigan told you he’d been having an affair with your mum for decades. Told you in Harcourt Square when we was interviewing Seán Flannery about Emer Davidson’s murder. I remember your face! You looked like you’d been run over by a getaway car.’

  I smiled at Chris’s apt description.

  ‘Yes, I did. But it’s not true. Corrigan was blackmailing my mother. I read her correspondence. She believed Richie had access to the child she gave up for adoption and the child’s safety was dependent on her compliance with his wishes. Flannery said Richie’s name when he was dying. His exact words were ‘Guy is Richie’. I thought he was raving, but he was trying to tell me Corrigan was more to him than a solicitor. I believe Corrigan manipulated Flannery as well, told him my mum was his mother. Flannery told me he was my brother. However, there’s no genetic material linking us.’

  I shook my head and tried to push away the memory of what he’d said. His blood-filled breaths and belief in another kind of life.

  Chris’s mouth was agape.

  ‘I’ll find out what happened to your mother’s baby, Bridge. If you want?’ said Amina.

  She was looking at me with eyes the size of dinner plates.

  ‘How?’ I said.

  ‘I have high level Revenue clearance, access to any Irish state system I want – for example, I can get into Dublin corporations live traffic feed and search for cars if I have the registration number. TULSA – that’s the children’s agency, Chris – will be easy.


  ‘Sweet Jesus!’ I said.

  I couldn’t tell what amazed me more, the thought of Amina tracking people down, or the utter lack of regulation on the Revenue’s access into Irish citizen’s lives. ‘Have you been accessing systems without authority again, Amina?’

  ‘No,’ big grin, ‘this is Ansbacher and I’ve lodged it under the investigation.’

  At least it was legal.

  ‘If you could try, Amina, I’d appreciate it.’ My voice caught on the words. ‘My mother’s maiden name was Flannery. Elizabeth Flannery born July 2nd, 1962.’

  There was a naked silence.

  ‘It’s a common name,’ said Amina. She gave a brisk nod of her head. ‘If there’s any information on the system I’ll find it.’

  ‘You’re a ghost!’ said Chris. ‘Wish I’d someone helping me with Her Majesty’s Revenue. I can get f– little or no information out of them.’

  ‘They don’t have our history,’ said Amina. She gave a weak smile. ‘We’ve had so many corrupt politicians and bankers that Revenue get access to what we ask for. It’s why Corrigan moved his money in such a rush. In 1997 the McCracken Tribunal found out about money hidden from the Revenue in the Ansbacher Bank in the Caymans. Munster Bank were up to their eyes in it as well – they gave me the information about Nasda Holding’s account in Munster Bank Isle of Man. They’re the biggest retail bank in Ireland and the state’s a majority shareholder – the management in Munster Bank would prefer a bill from Revenue rather than a criminal conviction.’

  ‘By heck,’ said Chris.

  ‘It’s not our finest quality,’ I said.

  Chris moved around in his seat surreptitiously, scratching his back. He spoke again, his eyes full of questions.

  ‘So Richie Corrigan had leverage over your mother and Seán Flannery? What did he get for it?’

  ‘Money. I’d say with Mum it’s more complicated.’

  ‘Bridge, you’ll need to stay calm for this.’ Amina gave a series of taps on her scroll-down button. ‘Your mother withdraws money from Nasda Holdings account every quarter. €200,000.’

  I reached a hand out to my seat-back, unaware I was standing. My knees concertinaed of their own accord, a broken toy.

  ‘Easy, lass,’ said Chris.

  ‘It’s a bank draft, so I assume it’s going to Richie Corrigan,’ said Amina.

  Chris was puce-faced. ‘And it’s a good assumption, but what if Bridge’s mam and dad have numbered accounts somewhere we don’t know about?’

  Chapter 58

  I admired Chris’s drive for the truth, even though it was costing both of us.

  ‘I’ve checked all available and not so available financial records on Bridge and her old pair,’ said Amina.

  ‘Excuse me?’ I said.

  Her hands were hummingbirds either side of her head.

  ‘I had to.’

  ‘It’s OK, Amina.’ She needed reassurance from me.

  ‘There’s nothing, Bridge – I mean your folks have a lot of money by ordinary standards, but your tax returns all check out, everything matches. You’ve no offshore accounts and nothing like the money a drug business generates. But your mam’s signature is on all the withdrawal slips for Nasda Holdings. I think Muldoon got wind of this and that’s why your dad was brought in for questioning. The last withdrawal slip was Friday 28th June 2019, but no withdrawal from the account for quarter end in September.’

  Electricity streaked through the grey coils in my brain.

  ‘Mum’s getting worse and we moved her to a nursing home this year. In July. Richie doesn’t have access to her, we supervise the visits. And,’ hard breath, ‘I doubt Mum can write her own name now.’

  ‘Wouldn’t Richie Corrigan forge it?’ said Chris.

  Amina’s small hands buzzed through a stack of paper. ‘Up to the last transaction he was bringing Mrs Harney into the bank with him,’ she said.

  Rage burned a hole in me. I was unaware I was moving until I had the cold steel handle of the door in my grasp. I needed to get on a plane back to Dublin to beat the living tar out of Richie Corrigan.

  ‘Bridge!’

  It was Chris. He was barring my way.

  ‘This won’t help, lass.’

  He looked around.

  Amina scrabbled in her bag and handed me a bottle of water. When she spoke her voice was small.

  ‘I wanted Chris to be here when I told you. I thought this might happen.’

  Her small face chastened me. ‘I’d never hurt you.’

  ‘I know,’ said Amina. The soft material of her hijab rustled as she shook her head. ‘But you might see the omission as a lie, and I didn’t want you to think I’d lied to you.’

  I reached out and touched her shoulder. ‘You haven’t lied. None of this is your fault, we’ve got this far because of you.’ Anxiety pecked at me. ‘Did my dad know about this?’

  ‘I wouldn’t say so,’ said Amina. ‘He’s never with your mum. It’s a heavyset woman in the car outside. It’s all on CCTV. I’m guessing Richie Corrigan goes to your house when you’re not there and takes your mum. I can’t track the car from the departing destination, there’s not enough CCTV where you live. I find it at Munster Bank on College Green then going into Trinity Street carpark after it drops your mum and Richie off.’ She paged down on her screen. ‘It’s an ancient BMW. Here’s a photograph of the woman driving.’

  Nata.

  Solid, kind Nata. With a fur coat and a burnished platinum ring.

  ‘I’m an idiot.’ It was a withered whisper and I gulped at my water.

  ‘Pardon, Bridge?’ said Chris.

  ‘Later.’ I batted him away. ‘Keep going, Amina.’

  ‘Nasda Holdings only ever took one cash deposit, in 1997, now the account takes laundered Bitcoin or Ethereum. The crypto currency is converted to cash and waits for Mrs Harney’s quarterly withdrawals, but there’s a problem due to your mam’s illness. So Slowell Ltd. is now a payee on the Nasda Holdings account and a recent electronic transaction moved €600,000 out of the account. I reckon it’s a test run. To see if any red lights start flashing. Remember Nasda Holdings is banjaxed.’

  ‘Banjaxed?’ said Chris.

  ‘Defunct,’ I said. ‘It shouldn’t have a live bank account.’

  ‘Correct,’ said Amina. ‘Munster Bank believe an employee in the Isle of Man branch is helping.’

  ‘No shit,’ said Chris.

  That got a laugh from both of us.

  ‘Is the employee still in play?’ I said.

  ‘Yes,’ said Amina. ‘I told them to do nothing and you’d be in touch with a “recommendation”.’ She made air quotes.

  I was reeling. My mother, Richie Corrigan, Seán Flannery and Mike Burgess connected in some dense web.

  ‘Why would Corrigan risk taking your old mum to the bank, Bridge?’ said Chris.

  Two puzzled faces turned towards me.

  ‘It’s his nature. He’s spent the last forty years inserting himself into my mother’s life, resorting to deceit and blackmail to keep their connection. She’s his obsession.’

  ‘I’m sorry, lass,’ said Chris.

  My mother had borne Richie Corrigan’s obsession alone – her courage stopped the words in my throat.

  ‘Drink some water, Bridge,’ said Amina.

  I took another gulp and looked at the slides, trying to get some distance and start again.

  ‘You say Mum withdrew money in ’98?’ I said.

  ‘First withdrawal from Munster Bank in College Green, Dublin March 1998. £20,000. The withdrawal amounts increased over time,’ said Amina.

  She turned her laptop screen to face me. Lists of line items in headache size font.

  ‘Mum’s been taking money for over twenty years from the Munster Bank’s head office, so they know her. They know the routine of Richie and Mum coming in and she signs the withdrawal slip. They’ve been watching for years and have seen her deterioration. Banks aren’t slapdash about withdrawals, so if Richie
wants to change up the way money is withdrawn, with Mum in her current condition he’d have to get Power of Attorney over her and he can’t. So Richie was forced to show his hand and use Slowell Ltd. to withdraw money.’

  Amina took some bottles of water from her bag and handed one to Chris. He twisted off the cap and bubbles clambered to get to the top.

  ‘I like a bit of fizzy, me,’ said Chris, as much to give our minds a rest as make us laugh.

  The cupboard we were in had taken on war-room status and the air had a thick, unventilated quality despite the fan.

  Chris circled his neck and a small bone clicked.

  ‘So Richie Corrigan uses Slowell Ltd to drain money out of Burgess Data Centre, converts it to crypto-currency, washes it around then puts it in Nasda Holdings,’ he said.

  ‘Wait,’ said Amina, holding up a small white hand. ‘Don’t get ahead of yourself. Slowell Ltd. puts some money in Nasda Holdings – remember how much money’s coming out of BDC – well over €80m a year. I would imagine most of that’s going to the cartels.’

  ‘Right so, it’s fair to say the money Richie’s putting into Nasda Holdings and getting Bridge’s mum to withdraw is his fee from Fuentes?’ said Chris.

  ‘Or he’s skimming,’ I said.

  Amina brought up the transactions she’d found for Nasda Holdings. ‘Both are reasonable assumptions. The deposits and withdrawals have been constant over the years. We’re looking at €13 million and change taken from Nasda Holdings.’

  ‘How much?’ I said.

  Chris made a popping sound of disbelief. ‘Right, let’s try putting this together,’ he said. ‘We know Mike Burgess and Seán Flannery are acquainted from the Emer Davidson murder, but Flannery was a liar so might have met Mike years ago. Let’s say Mike starts buying drugs off Seán Flannery. When did Flannery move into wholesaling?’

  ‘A tout I have said he had a chemist as far back as 2005, a woman by the name of Avril Boyle. She had a small pharmacy and helped him process his cocaine, gave him the ‘recipe’ users wanted. She committed suicide and according to her family she was an addict, met Seán Flannery at Narcotics Anonymous. She thought he was her boyfriend.’

 

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