“You mix, but not easily with the Ach and Oi crowd and you are able to blend with our rather limited educated class and now,” the Squire bowed, “with the gentry. Nice shirt by the way. Did you have that made for you in,” the squire thought a moment, “London? No, wrong cut. New York, I think, but I’ve been out of that world for a long time and so may be wrong.
“By the way, your shirts, for reasons passing understanding, have been the cause of much discussion. You feed that mystery of course, as it tends to distract others and obscure the reason for you being among us. You have a singular talent for saying much while revealing very little.
“People tend to leave your company believing they know something vital about you when in fact they are no better informed than when they arrived. All of this creates enough of a distraction to allow you to go about your business unnoticed. Well played, I say. Shirts for the love of God. That takes imagination,” the Squire said with a smile.
“Since your arrival you’ve supplied one and all with a little welcome respite from the drone of country life. As to why you are here, I honestly haven’t a clue, but if there is a reason, I will learn of it. I’ll let you know if you would like.”
“Please do. I often wonder why I am here. I am glad I’ve been able to add a little comic relief though,” Julian said with a fixed smile.
“No sense being chapped about it. Life in the country is deadly dull most of the time. You are a celebrity. That whole thing with Maher was really something. The free beer was a masterstroke, but I’ll reckon you didn’t figure on being hit in the head by that monster.
“Still, you came out of that just fine and managed to slough off that village constable rubbish onto the one man who can knock down anyone in the county. Really masterful in a queer sort of way. How am I doing so far?”
“Quite well, considering. Do you mind if I ask a question?” Julian asked.
“Ask away, son.”
“Does anyone like you, Squire?”
“Oh, I do hope not. I am the most feared man in this valley and I’ve done almost nothing to engender that. I am one of the most respected men in the country too. Archbishops and functionaries from the government and other rogues seek my blessing for anything they want to do in this part of the world. I’ve never thought to ask for more.”
Julian thought for a moment, savored his brandy and said, “You, Squire are a man who knows much about many things and you are obviously well connected. I will have to become better acquainted with you if only to keep you from making up any more facts about me.
“You have had a go at me so may I return the favor? No need to answer. I won’t bore you with the details you are all too familiar with. I doubt, however, anyone would confirm them to your face,” Julian said.
“My opinion is that you are one of those rare men who are unprincipled without being unethical. You are a gambler, but you would never cheat or swindle. In a different life, you would have been a pirate and a good one. But, hey, the good news is you are a rascal and a distinctly bad influence. Squire, I believe you and I can do business.”
Squire Lanigan laughed until tears ran down his cheeks. “Blessing, you are a cheeky bastard and, God forgive me, I like you.”
“FOOD!” the cook announced from the doorway.
“She is a woman of few words, but wait until you tuck into her shepherd’s pie. It is eloquent!”
The men repaired to the dining room and sat next to each other at the long table and, as advertised, the meal was superb in its simplicity.
Julian asked, “Squire, there has been some odd digging going on at some of the farms in the valley. Do you know anything about that? It is a subject that has the residents of the valley on edge. They don’t say as much, but you can feel their anxiety.”
“I have heard of it of course,” the Squire answered. “But in truth I do not know anything about the how or why of the thing. That anxiety you mention isn’t just worry. It is fear, lad. They try to minimize it, mask it with a brave face and a good joke. It is the Irish way and always has been. Believe me though, they are afraid, and why? Because they don’t know why they are afraid or of what. That is the worst kind of fear.
“There is more though,” the Squire continued. “As you know, there have been assaults and not of the pub-on-a-Saturday-night kind. People are being hurt and badly. It is my fear that whoever is doing this will go too far. I have put out feelers and will report whatever I can discover.”
Julian followed the thought. “The level of violence and other activity is increasing and it worries me too. I appreciate any help you can lend. Still, as you noted, I was a man of business, Squire, and so can’t take something without giving value in return. I will make you a trade. Use your resources to look into that matter and I will have Sean Maher’s son come up and work with your dogs.”
“Maher’s boy? The slow one? He has the way about him with dogs, does he?”
Julian bristled, “Some say he has a nearly mystical gift. I’ve seen what he can do. Would that we were all so slow, eh?”
“You’re right, that was stupid of me. You get that boy to work with my dogs and that will make it more than an equitable trade. If he can do anything with those disgusting creatures, that would be something to see. You, Mr. Blessing, have a deal.”
Over lunch, the Squire commented briefly on the notable residents of the area and Julian asked him about an expression he had used earlier.
The squire smiled and nodded his head, “Yes, the Ach and Oi crowd is it? A term of my own creation. It easily identifies Ireland’s rural working people. I’m sure you’ve heard enough ‘Ach, but ’tisn’t it Paddy who said,’ and ‘Well, Oi’ll beed thinkin’ Oi’ amn’t about to go ta market this day,’ to last you several lifetimes.
“Mind you I do not use that term disparagingly even though it may sound as if I do. Although my manners are appalling and my point of view jaded, I know and respect my fellow Irishmen. The working people, the laborers, the people of the land – Blessing, I value them more than you could ever know. They may populate their speech with a liberal dollop of the ach and the Oi, but even the rudest among them wield the language with true artistry. Moreover, they are good people.
“They have an oral tradition that spans thousands of years. I’m an educated man Blessing, as are you. I know the words, but these people, understand them and through those words they understand and can deal with a very hard life head on,” the Squire said.
“As for the educated class and the gentry, language is always the give away, of course. Father Fahey is an exception. He and his flock are strictly salt of the earth types. Have a care when you deal with him though. He may play the cartoon Irish priest, but don’t be fooled. Untutored he may be, but he’s been around, he is quick witted and nobody’s fool. Lie to him at your peril.
“That nun, Sister Eugenia, that woman had it all. In her day, she was a looker, she is still a handsome woman actually. Her family was old money of course. Went to the finest schools but gave it all up. Give her a wide berth. With an angelic and innocent smile, that woman could murder us all and still make it all right with Almighty God.
“The good doctor?” Julian asked.
“I was waiting for you to ask. According to the local busybodies, you wasted no time in making her acquaintance, eh, ya rogue. She is as fine a bit of fluff as I’ve seen in many a year. Lovely shape on her, but she has a blistering temper that I frankly doubt will improve with age.
“She is respected enormously by her peers throughout the country, which is why I had her brought here. If she knew that bit, she would be livid. If she knew I paid her salary or that she lived and practiced out of a house that belongs to me, she would be rabid. Of course there isn’t a person anywhere around here, except me, who wouldn’t cut off a limb if she asked.”
“But not you?” Julian asked
“I like my doctors male, somewhat marinated and within a score of years of my age.”
“You’ve not mentioned Mrs
. Hagan.”
The squire picked up a spoon and polished it with his napkin. “Formidable to be sure, but then you know that don’t you.” The squire smiled and looked closely at Julian. “You, in fact, have good reason to know that. But beyond that I really couldn’t say.”
The men talked of the likely demise of the village and the surrounding countryside and the squire invited Julian to play chess some evening soon.
Lunch was, as promised, eloquent.
Chapter Fourteen
The storm clouds had blown away leaving only a slight bite to the fall air and the unmistakable fresh just-after-rain smell.
Having dried out some at the Squire’s, Julian walked to the village and found Sean on the main road. Together the two walked down the street stopping to talk with Edmond Flynn from the general store. Julian waved to Francis Mulherin while Sean just spat. They nodded to the Hackett sisters who sniffed and went inside their shop in a huff.
Dr. Dwyer was standing outside her practice looking into the sky. As he passed, Julian said, “Good afternoon, Doctor.”
“Ah, well if isn’t it Constables Blessing and Maher, and by the look of you, a slightly soggy Assistant Constable Blessing. At least it can be said that Sean Maher has sense enough to get in out of the rain,” she said and winked at Sean.
“None of that now. Although he is but a modest man and insists he is an Assistant, it is Chief Constable to the likes of you, Doctor,” Sean said and smiled broadly.
“Quite right. Modest, ha. Still, my apologies, Chief Constable.” She stressed the Chief hard, smiled and continued. “Why ever would you be out in this morning’s weather?”
“Just felt like a stroll and it was really rather pleasant. One crosses paths with the most agreeable people while one is out for an amble,” Julian said.
“And whose path did you cross today?” the doctor asked, her smile radiant and playful.
“Well, yours of course. Don’t you find it strange that when you come out the rain clouds blow away?” Julian said teasingly.
“Go on with you,” she said while Sean Maher rolled his eyes.
“And I met Squire Lanigan. Charming fellow.”
The smile was gone in a heartbeat. “Well, thank you for that! You would lump me in with the Squire? If I thought you were going to be insulting I wouldn’t have bothered myself talking to the likes of you.”
With a mischievous twinkle in his eye, Julian said, “Now what could it be about the Squire that upsets you. You both have a fine aristocratic bearing. Both of you are well educated. Both of you have a deep attachment to the valley. You have so much in common.”
“Oh, you forgot to mention the man is an ass. If you didn’t notice that speaks volumes about you too.” She seemed ready to spit nails. “Never was there a more arrogant, self-righteous, selfish, scoundrel. The man is a rogue and a villain and… There are no words to… I can’t even tell you… Just the mention of his name makes me…” Dr. Dwyer sputtered.
“He was perfectly charming to me. I can’t imagine what he could have done that would have caused you to bear him such ill will,” Julian goaded.
“Julian, we have to be going,” Sean said.
“Charming is it! He called me ‘woman’!”
“Well, you are a woman, and a very attractive one if you don’t mind me saying so.” Julian was beside himself trying to keep from laughing as Ailís Dwyer sputtered and fumed with her fists clenched and the bit fully between her teeth.
“Julian, we have to be going – now,” Sean said and looked nervous.
“You are as big an ass as he is!” the doctor fired back. “He didn’t say I was a woman, you nit! He called me ‘Woman.’ I was treating him one day and when I was done he dismissed me. Me! Imagine! He said, ‘It is time you went about your business of having babies and such so, on your way, woman.’
“He actually said that – Neanderthal! Can you imagine! The man is insufferable. He is an oaf. If ever there were a man who deserved gout, it’s that old reprobate. He needs to suffer and not in the next life – I want to see it in this one!”
“Julian, we have to be going – right this minute!” Sean said sensing the doctor’s boiling point was fast approaching.
“Oh my, I will have to think about the things you’ve said, Doctor. Perhaps I have misjudged one of you,” Julian said and started down the road toward the police station with Sean Maher leading him by the arm.
“Arrrrggggggggggggg!” Dr. Dwyer cried out as she searched desperately for something heavy to throw at the head of Julian Blessing.
“Did you really have to annoy her that way?” Sean asked and the irritation could be heard clearly in his voice.
Julian stopped in the street and faced his friend. “You mean there is another way to annoy her? Why don’t I ever get the memos on these things? It is your duty, Sean, to keep me informed about the many ways of annoying people.” Julian found that uproariously funny.
“Julian, be serious. Why do you do such things? That poor slip of a girl was going to have a stroke and you the cause of it and with a young son to raise all on her own. How would you have felt if she had fallen into a fit and left the poor child an orphan?”
“Oh, she is healthy enough. She looked like someone who needed a little emotional exercise. I was doing her a favor. Can you imagine the next male patient she sees though? That will be a very ugly examination I can tell you,” Julian said and began to laugh again.
At last, Dr. Dwyer located and threw a metal pail, but Julian was too far out of range. “You will pass this way again and I will be ready,” she thought to herself as she stormed back into her practice.
***
The wind spun in lazy circles among the heather. Fall had turned to winter. The night was cool and crisp, but most of all it wasn’t raining. Julian needed to get out and get some exercise. The roads were dry so he took his official police bicycle and flashlight out along the lonely country lanes.
The half moon silvered the night and illuminated his path. If he was careful and didn’t ride too fast he should be able to ride seven miles easily and still make it back before nine o’clock.
He rode on in the silent night, alone with his thoughts and feelings. It had been a week since he had seen the Hagan. Their meetings were becoming less frequent. He was given assignments and they would meet to discuss the results.
Still something bothered him. Moira Hagan was drawn, tired and slower than he had ever seen her. She seemed sad to him somehow and oddly distracted. He had felt it in her for some time. With the skills he had developed, he was able to analyze his past feelings clearly. He had to admit, he had felt his teacher’s loss of force from the beginning.
“You know as much as I can tell you – for now,” she had said to him without emotion. “You may ask questions of course, but for my part I’ve given you what I can. We’ll hope it will be enough in the time remaining.”
Remaining until what he wanted to shout, but refrained, knowing she would only look sadly at him as though he were a particularly dull student.
Four bright flashes of light went off in a field to Julian’s right. He estimated the distance could be no more than two hundred meters from the road to the position of the flashes. He stopped and two more flashes exploded about two seconds apart. Julian leaned his bike against a tree and made his way to the edge of the farmer’s field, jumped a stone fence and began trotting toward the flashes.
The ground was broken and the going hard. Men’s voices were carried on the cool night air. At seventy-five meters, he heard the sound of a vehicle engine starting. He broke into a run and arrived in time to see the vehicle’s tail lights merge into each other in the distance and the engine noise disappear.
Julian switched on his flashlight and panting heavily, surveyed the area. Men’s work boots and the tires of what he assumed to be a small truck beat down the pasture grass. Shining the light in front of him he encountered mud – more mud than there should have been in a pristine pasture. He sho
ne the light up and found the face of a round hillock had been hacked away. He lowered the light and backed away so he could take in the entire scene.
He stopped at a distance and began to follow the tracks of the truck as they approached the site of the digging. He could see where the truck had stopped and suddenly he could see the men as they got out of a white truck. It wasn’t as though he was imagining it. He felt he was standing there watching them work. The feeling was unsettling.
They removed their picks and shovels and started for the hillock. They had sheared away the face of the hill and then he couldn’t see anything more. It was there. He could feel it. “What did they do next?” He asked himself. But the mental picture wouldn’t come back.
The flashes. He remembered the flashes. How many? Four and then two. Yes. They had stopped digging, walked back to the truck and put their tools away. Julian shone the light at his feet and between his muddy boots lay a photograph taken with an old fashioned instant camera.
It was a picture of what the men had done.
Julian tried to work it out in his mind. “But what had they done? They had dug away part of a small mound of earth. So what? To what end and why was it so important they would take half a dozen pictures of it. What were they going to do with the other pictures? To whom would they show them?” Questions without answers presented themselves to Julian.
Chapter Fifteen
He sat on a bench outside the Hagan’s front door. Julian knew she was at home. He could sense it and his sense of her was his primary concern. He felt her draw near the door before he heard her open it. He was about to prove or disprove his theory and his feelings. He hoped he was wrong but feared he was not.
She stepped out into her front garden and found the day glorious. The bright sunlight and a bite to the air refreshed her physically but did nothing to lift her spirits. Moira stood and looked into the heart of the village. She had lived in this house a very long time. She knew these people, her people. She knew them in ways no one else did. Perhaps, she thought, it was time someone else did. The sentiment lowered her spirits further and Julian could feel it.
Echoes Through the Mist: A Paranormal Mystery (The Echoes Quartet Book 1) Page 14