The Silence

by Linda Tweedie

“Don’t look so surprised, I was here when you were with your friends a few months ago.”

  It’s a big place, she thought, and she was sure she hadn’t seen him. Certainly not if he wore that gear all the time.

  “In fact, you got quite friendly with my godson,” he bluffed.

  As Erin looked quizically at him, the priest went on. ”Yes, my godson Bobby Mack, he’s never stopped talking about you, he’ll be delighted when I tell him you’re in town,” the canon lied blatantly. “Oh, but my dear, what a shame. The family are leaving in the morning, they’re off to the States for a few weeks, what a shame you’ll miss him.”

  Erin didn’t know what to do, she wasn’t sure if she entirely believed the man, but why would he lie? She had to see Bobby and Canon O’Farrell was her ticket.

  “Do you think I could see him tonight before he leaves, Father?” She wrote. “It’s very important.”

  “I don’t know what he’s doing tonight, probably out with his mates, but he’s at home with Dianne just now, why don’t you come on up to the villa with me?”

  “I have to take Amy back and give Carol her medication. Could you wait for me? Or I could come up later, once I’ve seen to these guys?”

  “Well, I suppose so, but I wouldn’t leave it too long, Bobby waits around for no man, or woman, and this is his last night for some time. Remember, he wasn’t expecting you, so he’ll have plans.”

  “Wait for me,” she wrote.

  There was no way she could leave the little girl with a semi-conscious mother in a hotel room unsupervised. No, she had no choice.

  Pity about the kid, mused Francis, she would have fitted the bill perfectly. Well, not perfectly, his clients would have preferred something a little older, but once delivered there were never any complaints. He would see what he could do later, but his first priority was to cut off Erin Coyle from the outside world. He needed to think fast, something he had always prided himself on − it had helped him escape from a few scary situations over the years.

  Capture

  Bridget had phoned every clinic listed in the Yellow Pages with no luck; wherever her daughter had gone, she wasn’t in one in the city. Unless, of course, she was using another name. If that was the case, Bridget knew she had no chance. She was just going to have to sit it out and hope that Paddy was too preoccupied to notice, but seriously, she didn’t hold out much hope.

  The man himself was certainly preoccupied at the moment. Paddy had committed, what was in his eyes, the cardinal sin. In his eagerness to get one over on O’Farrell, Paddy had strayed from his usual modus operandi. His naturally suspicious nature never allowed him to jump feet first into any situation; he always checked things out, looked from different perspectives and always, always had a ‘Plan B’, thus avoiding a capture or even arousing suspicion that he could be involved in anything suspect. But, in his haste to ‘do’ the canon, Paddy was now faced with a very dangerous situation.

  So what did he have, he asked himself. He had a defunct computer; a bag with a substantial amount of cash and bonds which couldn’t be traced; a key to a locker, a locker containing evidence of serious crimes committed by person or persons unknown with no definite link to O’Farrell.

  What did he have to do to protect himself, the twins and Father Jack? The computer could be binned, but the cash and bonds? There was nothing to prove they were the proceeds of crime or that they belonged to anyone other than Paddy Coyle. The photographs could be destroyed as they were of no significant use. But the key and the contents of the locker were a different story. He had to relocate both and still ensure that they could be traced back to O’Farrell if need be. And that was the tricky part. Although Paddy had made up his mind that the man had taken his last holiday, he had to cover his tracks just in case . . .

  The Kidnap

  As she pulled on a fresh dress and vigorously brushed her hair, Erin thought this was not how she had planned her reunion with Bobby, but she had no time to do any more. She couldn’t miss this opportunity − it seemed unlikely she’d get another. A quick check in the mirror, she’d have to do. One thing being pregnant had done for her, it certainly enhanced her breasts. For the first time in her life she didn’t hanker after a boob job.

  She’d tried to rouse her sick friend to no avail, the poor soul had been floored by whatever bug she’d been unlucky enough to catch and Erin thought she would recover quicker if they left her alone.

  She scribbled a note saying ‘Gone to meet Bobby. Had to take Amy, wish me luck. Erin.’

  Taking the little girl by the hand, they ran back down to where they’d left Canon O’Farrell, but he was gone. Bugger, bugger, she swore in her head. They hadn’t been gone that long, surely he could have waited? Erin felt like crying. She was desperate. If she couldn’t see Bobby today, God only knew when they would meet up again.

  Amy began squealing, “There he is, Erin, there he is,” and sure enough, dozing in the shade was the missing priest.

  “Sorry, ladies, I must have drifted off,” smiled Canon O’Farrell. “Let’s go, it’s only a short stroll.

  For most of the way the elderly man kept them entertained, telling funny little stories and winning them over. At home Erin had never liked the canon and had avoided him whenever possible, always finding him to be rude and stern, nothing like this man who was warm and funny and if only she knew; a damned good actor, so when he began subtly questioning her, she was completely taken in by him.

  “What brings you to Marbella again, Erin?” He asked.

  It was almost impossible to walk and write at the same time, so he became questioner and answerer.

  “Was there a particular reason?” he cajoled. Seeing her blush, he pressed on. “It wasn’t to do with a certain young man, was it?” Seeing Erin colour up again, he laughingly asked, “It wouldn’t be my godson by any chance, would it?”

  Erin shyly nodded her response.

  “Oh dear, Erin, maybe I’m doing the wrong thing here. Maybe I shouldn’t bring you to see Bobby, not when Dianne is with him. I don’t think she’ll make you very welcome. She’s a tigress and Bobby is her baby, maybe we should forget it?”

  Erin was vigorously shaking her head, she couldn’t get this close and fail, she had to convince him to take her to the villa. Making her companions sit on the wall, Erin wrote, “I have to see him, it’s very important.”

  “I’m sure it is, but I don’t want to expose you and the little one to Dianne in a strop, and believe me, if she thought you were serious about her son, there would be murders. Let’s face it, she put the kybosh on your romance earlier this year.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I told you, he never stopped talking about you.”

  “And she stopped him?”

  “She did, so what do you think?”

  “Remember who my dad is, I’m sure I’ll cope.”

  As if he could forget who her father was. “Tell you what, why don’t you wait in the pool house and I’ll send Bobby down to you. I could always keep his mother occupied while you talk.”

  “Please, please. Thank you,” she drew a bunch of kisses. God, that might not be appropriate for a priest, Erin thought.

  Having safely ensconced his two charges in the pool house, Canon O’Farrell went off, as they thought, in search of Bobby.

  The young man in question most certainly wasn’t at home packing for a non-existent holiday to the States. He was on holiday, however. He and his three amigos had hired a motor cruiser and were just entering the marina in Majorca for the start of a few days of fishing and partying.

  There was no chance of Bobby interfering with the house guests, invited or not.

  The canon rummaged about in Dianne’s medicine cabinet until he found what he was looking for. Back in the kitchen, he quickly squeezed fresh orange juice and loaded it with the crushed sleeping pills, working quickly in case Erin got inquisitive.

  “I managed to get a quick word with Bobby and he’s over the moon,” said O’Farrell
, laying down the tray of drinks.

  “He was all for rushing straight down here, but I told him to wait till Dianne goes out. Shouldn’t be more than half an hour, forty minutes, okay? Here, drink these, it gets quite hot in here and you certainly don’t want to get dehydrated, especially the little one.”

  For some reason Erin suddenly felt intimidated by the canon. He seemed menacing now. Heavens, she told herself, she was being ridiculous. Only ten minutes ago he had been her saviour, telling her stories and promising to help her in her quest. But maybe he had worked out why she wanted to see Bobby and didn’t approve, or was she just being paranoid? Whatever the reason, she was too tired to worry.

  Voices drifted in and out of her consciousness, angry voices. She was sure somebody held her and forced her to drink something, but it was easy just to let the blackness take over.

  The Breakup

  Pete was surprised to find O’Farrell waiting for him when he got home from the club. The old man was usually well into the land of nod by the time he got in. There was something up and Pete knew he wasn’t going to like it.

  “You did what?” roared Pete Mack, smashing his fist on the marble counter top.

  “It’s only for a couple of days, till I get things organised,” Frank cajoled his furious host, keeping his distance.

  “Organised? You? You couldn’t organise a piss-up in a brewery. No fucking way, get them out of my house now.”

  “How? Sling her over my shoulder and saunter down to the marina and hope the local Caribeneros don’t notice me?”

  “Don’t be so fucking smart, I can’t believe you brought Paddy Coyle’s daughter back to my gaff, drugged her and then tell me you’re about to fucking hold her to ransom! Fuck me, you really are a piece of work.”

  “What did you want me to do, Pete? She recognised me. Do you think she was going to forget she’d seen her parish priest dressed to the nines and holding hands with a boy as black as coal? I’m pretty sure her next phone call home would start, ‘you’ll never guess who I just met?’”

  “I don’t give a fuck. You should never have brought her here. This is some fucking mess, I’m telling you, and what about the kid?”

  “What about her? She’s the reason I brought them here. She’ll fill the last consignment, nobody so far knows they’re missing, it’s heaven sent.”

  “I’ll fucking heaven sent you, you stupid bastard. For the past ten years I’ve kept everything together, tied up every loose end and made sure nothing could be traced back to here, or to us, and in one fell swoop you’ve compromised everything. When this is over you are fucking done, man. I’m telling you, done!” Pete stormed into the house and picked up the phone.

  All had gone better than the canon had expected. Pete, anxious to get rid of his unwanted guests had no choice, the priest was confident they would get away with this. His partner was right though, it was time to call it a day.

  As Carol got back into bed she found the note left by Erin. Thank God Amy was being looked after. She swallowed the medication and fell promptly back to sleep. She certainly would not have slept so soundly if she had had any idea of the danger her precious daughter and friend found themselves in.

  Pete was on the phone for the best part of an hour, during which time his temper and anger had worsened rather than abated. Endeavouring to reopen channels he had recently closed, and closed in such a way that prevented situations like this, he really didn’t know if it could be done. Erin Coyle was a problem, but if all else failed she’d sleep with the fish. Pete had no qualms about disposing of her; the problem was the canon and the link back to him.

  “Frank, you do realise that Paddy Coyle will come and it’ll be either him or us? He won’t let us walk away from this, not where his daughter’s concerned.”

  “Well, we’ll have to be ready for him. She’s the only bargaining tool we have to make him return my money.”

  “You might not get the opportunity to spend it,” sneered Pete. “My advice would have been to walk away, but it’s too late now, you’ve already sullied his name and dramatic though this sounds, it’s going to be a fight to the death.”

  “It would be that with or without his daughter. He knows too much and wouldn’t rest until he’d exposed us. At least this way we have a fighting chance.”

  “You may as well get some sleep; tomorrow will be a long, long day.”

  The Call

  Carol had no idea what time she woke, but the sun was high in the sky and from the balcony, she could see that most of the loungers around the pool were occupied. She was still a bit shaky, but a hundred times better than she had been yesterday. Obviously it had been one of those shitty twenty-four hour things; she wasn’t okay, but she could face the day.

  Looking around the room it was apparent that neither Amy nor Erin’s beds had been slept in. Carol was a little perturbed. After a quick shower she made her way to the dining room, but breakfast was long over. She scoured the pool area for her daughter and friend. No sign of either. Next, the play area and the gardens but there was still no sign of them.

  By now it was mid-morning and Carol knew that Erin was far too responsible to keep her little girl out overnight, and certainly not until almost lunchtime the next day. Panic was beginning to kick in. Oh my God, had something happened? An accident? Had they gotten stuck somewhere? Had Bobby gone mad and done them some mischief? She had to find them. She had a really bad feeling about this.

  Grabbing hold of one of the holiday reps, she gave a garbled account of what was wrong.

  “You have to call the police; they’ve been gone for hours. Check the hospitals in case there’s been an accident.”

  “Hang on, hang on, don’t panic. When did you last see your friend and daughter?” The uninterested young girl had heard this or a similar story a dozen times already this season. They always turned up, usually still half-cut from the night before. Mind you, they didn’t usually take a four-year-old along for company, but there was no accounting for some folk.

  “I’m not sure. I think it was early evening. I was ill in bed and they went for something to make me feel better. I vaguely remember them coming back and I found a note saying that she was going to meet a guy. She had Amy with her and to wish her luck.”

  “There you go then,” smiled the girl. “She’s not missing. She’s just not back yet.”

  “For God’s sake, they’ve been away for hours.”

  “They could have gone clubbing, some of the clubs don’t close till about now.”

  “With a four-year-old in tow? Don’t be so bloody ridiculous.” snapped the distraught mother. “I want you to call the police now. My child and my friend are missing.”

  With great reluctance, the sullen rep made a few calls, furious at all the paperwork she was going to have to complete, and still adamant that the pair would turn up any minute.

  It took almost an hour before two equally disinterested Civil Guards, who looked like they would have trouble sorting out a parking ticket, arrived.

  Carol didn’t have much information for them to go on; all she knew was that Bobby cleaned pools and had something to do with a nightclub. It was now almost twenty-four hours since she had last seen the pair and she was frantic. The officers took a few notes, asked a few questions, and then left, leaving the terrified mother at a loss as to what was happening.

  Desperately searching through Erin’s bag for any clues, Carol came across her friend’s phone. They needed help and it didn’t look like it was going to come from the Spanish authorities or the holiday firm. No matter how much Erin didn’t want her family to know about the pregnancy, this was way beyond keeping the secret. They had to be told.

  “Erin, is that you? God, child, I’ve been almost out of my mind with worry,” her mother cried with relief.

  Paddy had insisted on his daughter having a phone for emergencies. In order to overcome her problem, she had only to ring once for yes and twice for no. This simple code allowed her to keep in touch with
any of her family or friends.

  “Mrs Coyle, this isn’t Erin.” A young woman was sobbing into her daughter’s phone.

  “Who are you? Where’s Erin?” Bridget demanded.

  “I don’t know. She’s missing with my daughter.”

  “What do you mean missing and why is she with your daughter?” Eventually Bridget got the story from a completely distraught Carol, who by now was in bits.

  “I need to get my husband. Keep this phone with you all the time. Do not go anywhere without it and make sure it’s charged. I’ll phone back as soon as I get him.”

  “I’m so sorry, I did try to talk her out of it but she wouldn’t have it. My Amy’s only four, she’s just a baby. Dear God, I’ll die if anything happens to her.” Carol sobbed.

  Much as Bridget wanted to comfort and assure the girl, she had no words. Her daughter was missing too.

  Sick with worry, she had to get Paddy. If only it had been an abortion, at least they’d know she was safe. It took her nearly half an hour to reach him and relay the telephone call. He got back home in record time.

  “Are you sure it’s not some sick joke?” he asked, clutching at straws.

  “I don’t think so, she sounded genuine enough to me, and even if it is, we can’t take the chance and ignore it.”

  “Get me on the next flight to Alicante.”

  “What about the twins? Don’t you think you should have backup?” Bridget was concerned that Paddy on his own would create bedlam, whereas if his brothers were with him, he would be less likely to land up in a Spanish jail.

  “Not both, somebody needs to stay here and take care of things.”

  “Okay, I’ll book Michael,” said Bridget, going to answer the phone. “I’m sorry, Father Jack, he’s busy right now. Well, if it’s that urgent, okay. Paddy, Father Jack is on the phone, he says it’s urgent.”

  “Tell him I’ll speak to him later. Nothing is more urgent than this.”