by Linda Coles
Chrissy could hear the rumble of the old roller door as the man helped it on its way before finally letting go as it took on a life of its own. It crashed to the top with a loud smack. She smiled at the fact that the door probably did that to him every single day. There would likely be some sort of pole with a hook to pull it back down at the end of the day and she imagined it standing proudly just inside the doorway, waiting for its one job. The man disappeared inside.
She slowed her pace down to a walk and wiped the mixture of sweat and rain off her forehead with the long sleeve of her running shirt in an attempt to make herself look a little more presentable before she headed over. She was drenched, her hair plastered to her head, but that didn’t matter. She always felt good after going for a run, it eased the tension in her shoulders and dragged her thoughts kicking and screaming into order. The young man returned holding a pavement sign advertising the fact they were open for business then vanished back inside. Chrissy watched for a moment and wondered about the other man, the one she’d come to see, the one that Julie had almost whacked. What time did he start work, would he be along shortly or not? If she hung around too long, she’d get cold, and she’d have to dream up another excuse to come back later. While it was all right to tell Adam and Julie what she was really doing, she didn’t want Richard to know what she was up to, not wanting to have to explain herself. She put her head around the open doorway and spotted the young man at the back of the unit by a small office.
“Good morning,” she said brightly. He swung around, startled, probably not expecting anyone so early in the day. “I’m looking for the owner,” she added.
“He’s not here yet, he’ll be along shortly though.” While he seemed pleasant enough, there wasn’t a hint of a smile on his face. This morning’s shave hadn’t happened, and stubble sprouted from his chin in an uneven manner.
“Okay if I wait?”
He shrugged. “If you like,” he said. “Want a coffee? It’s only instant,” he offered, pointing to a nearby jar with a teaspoon.
“Thanks.”
He nodded to a chair in the corner by the office door, offering for her to sit while she waited. Since it was an old wooden one, she took the weight off her feet while he made her a hot drink.
“Any idea how long he’s likely to be?”
“Usually here by now,” he said. “But with his sister in hospital, he’s been a bit more erratic with his hours.” He spooned two sugars into his own mug and turned to face her. Brown fingernails stained from his oily job held her drink and she wondered about the cleanliness of what she was about to sip from. Just then a car pulled up outside.
“He’s here now,” he said and nodded into the distance towards the front pavement. Chrissy turned to see a weather-beaten older figure get out of an equally old car and head towards them. It must be the man the Julie met yesterday at the castle, judging by the description of him. He walked as if he was exhausted.
“Morning,” she said, approaching him as he entered the building.
“Morning,” he replied. She was dripping water to the floor. He looked her up and down, her drenched state of interest but not in a leery way. He didn’t pass comment.
“You must be Brocc. I believe you met my sister yesterday?” she said, getting straight to the point. She watched as his face clouded over, likely wondering where the conversation might go and where she fitted in.
“I did, yes,” he said slowly. “Scared me half to death, so she did.”
“I’m Chrissy,” she said and smiled in the hope that it would put him at ease and that he would return one, but he never did. “She can be scary can Julie,” she added, trying to lighten the moment, but still no smile. Figuring he wasn’t the talkative or smiling type, she ushered him gently towards the entranceway, away from the possibly prying ears of the young man. She didn’t fancy going outside back into the rain just yet.
“I believe your sister may be involved in something,” she said in a low voice.
He flicked his head up quickly and said, “What’s your business?”
“Trying to find out what’s going on. Probably like you I’d imagine. You were at the castle, remember?”
Brocc grunted. He must have figured if the dripping woman was the sister of the one he’d spoken to yesterday, she was okay to talk to. He let a moment or two pass before responding. “She’ll not telling me anything.”
“You think she’s involved then?”
“I know so. I just don’t know what it is or how deep she’s in. But I do know I don’t want her in any danger, she’s too old for all that.”
“Then if she’s not letting on to you what it is, we need to figure out a way of finding out without her.”
“Why do you want to know? You don’t look local to me.”
“Let’s just say I’m a holidaymaker with a nosey interest. The young child that was left at the castle? It was me that found him.”
“Yes, your sister did say. Well, he’s safe now, that’s the main thing.”
“I intend to find out more though. I can’t leave it there.”
“I don’t think I can be much help. I don’t know anything to tell you.”
The young man, now working under a car at the far end of the garage cursed then wriggled out on his creeper from underneath an Audi. “Bulb’s gone,” he said, pointing to the handheld lamp. Brocc, remembering he’d got a torch on his phone that he hadn’t had a chance to use yet, looked across and said, “Use this for a minute,” he said, walking towards Jake, who glanced at the phone and disappeared back under the car. Brocc went back to stand with Chrissy when his phone began to ring. The lad once again wheeled himself out from under the car and handed the phone back to Brocc who looked at the caller ID. Chrissy caught the glance, she could tell he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with it, so she helped him out by saying, “Green button, tap it.”
She stood for a moment while he had a brief conversation, though it was mainly one-sided, before he hung up and looked at the phone.
“New phone. I haven’t figured it out yet,” he said by way of explanation.
“Flash,” said Chrissy. “A smart new iPhone.”
“Got it yesterday. Got two yesterday actually.”
“What do you need two for?”
“One for me, one for Bronagh. Hers got smashed in the accident. I’m still getting to grips with it. The last one didn’t have so many fancy bits, just made phone calls. I reckon this could fly a spaceship.” At last, a morsel of a smile at his own analogy. “Anyway, that was Bronagh. She’s being released from hospital this morning, I’m to pick her up at 11 am.”
“Well that is good news.” Better still it gave Chrissy the seed of an idea. “So, you’ve got identical phones then?”
“Yes.”
Chrissy told him her quickly forming plan.
“I don’t know…”
“Do you want to find out and help or not?”
Chapter 57
Brocc wasn’t convinced at the strange woman’s plan, but if he wanted to find out anything, it was clear Bronagh wasn’t going to tell him and he’d have to figure it out for himself. The two women he’d now since met seemed intent on getting to the bottom of it so he may as well lend a hand where he could, for her sake and for perhaps the young child’s. She was all the family he had left, and if she was putting herself in harm’s way, he had to do something about it. All he had to do was make sure that he came away with Bronagh’s phone, leaving his own one behind, and hope she didn’t notice. Chrissy had taken it from him and cleaned it so it was devoid of grease and grime and hoped Brocc could make the swap when his sister wasn’t looking. It would work, but finding the right moment to make the switch would be the tricky part.
Once again he parked up and headed inside the hospital and straight to the ward where his sister was sitting on the edge of her bed with her belongings alongside her, such as they were. He bent to give her a kiss on the cheek and asked how she was feeling.
�
�Pretty good, actually,” she said. “I’m ready for home.”
“What did the doctor say this morning after his rounds?”
“Take it easy. I told him I’d got someone at home to help look after me. That seemed to satisfy him, otherwise I think he’d have made me stay longer.”
“What did you do that for when you quite clearly haven’t got anybody?”
“Because I’m sure you’ll pop in and I can manage. I’m young enough to hobble around and sort myself out. I don’t need much more.”
“Well, I hope so,” he said, almost scolding her. She’d always been fiercely independent for as long as he could remember so there was no point in trying to convince her otherwise. He could keep a close eye on her.
“Then we should have a quick run through,” he said. “Walk to the end of the ward and back and I won’t grass you up.”
“Really?” she exclaimed.
“Yes, really. Now, you heard me, get on with it.”
“Well, you cantankerous old man,” she said, “I don’t believe you’d do that.”
“Try me.”
Bronagh locked eyes, tutted as loudly as she could to show her dissatisfaction, then got up on her crutches and set off towards the end of the ward. It was now or never to make the phone switch. While she wasn’t looking, he quickly unzipped her bag, slipped his hand in and felt for her phone, all the time watching to make sure she didn’t turn around. When he’d got it in his grasp, he pulled his own out of his pocket and did the switch before quickly zipping the bag up again. By the time she’d reached the end of the ward and turned, he was stood with a grin on his face, feeling more pleased with the fact that he’d managed to do something covert than with his sister managing to hobble along on crutches for few metres. He felt a thrill travel up his spine at what he’d just done. He pulled hers out of his pocket and flipped it on to silent as Chrissy had shown him to do earlier, having already done his own. The last thing he wanted was either phone ringing while Bronagh was still in the car and her to realise it was the wrong ring tone. He doubted she changed hers from the standard one as yet, but he couldn’t be sure. By the time she’d reached him back at the bed, she wore a pink glow from the exhaustion.
“That’s enough for you today,” he said. “You’re as red as a beetroot.”
“Will you stop fussing?” she said, annoyed that she was breathing hard. It had taken more out of her than she’d realised.
“Do you want a wheelchair to get to the car?”
“No, I’m fine,” she said. At that moment a nurse passed by and Brocc thought better of it.
“Stay here,” he said, and wandered off to catch the nurse’s attention for a chair. A moment later he was back. “She said she’s already offered you one, which you’d refused, but you’re getting one now anyway. Don’t be a fool, Bronagh.”
“I don’t need the fuss, I can manage.”
“Clearly, you can’t.” The nurse arrived and held the chair while Bronagh seated herself. Brocc put her bags on her lap and thanked the nurse as the two left, working their way slowly towards his car parked outside. Part one of the plan was now complete. The second part would take someone else’s skill set, not his. And the woman, Chrissy, had volunteered to do the rest. All he had to do was take Bronagh back home and meet Chrissy at the garage. He was ahead of schedule and it felt good, so he allowed himself a slight smile behind his sister’s back. He could get used to being devious.
He pulled up close to the kerb outside Bronagh’s house and helped her from the passenger seat and up the path where he unlocked the door with his own set of keys. The house felt cold and damp with the rainy weather and without an occupant, and he hadn’t thought to make sure the heating was switched on for her arrival home. She shivered as she stepped inside.
“You go through to the sitting room and I’ll wet some tea and put the heating on,” he said helpfully. He made sure he grabbed both her bags, taking them into the kitchen out of reach. Five minutes later he took her a mug of tea and a half-eaten packet of biscuits he’d found and asked if there was anything else she needed. “I’ve got to get back to the garage for an hour, but I’ll call in again just after lunch, okay? Make sure you’re fine.”
“I’ll probably still be sitting here,” she said. “But I’ll see you later.” He gave a nod and left the house feeling pleased with himself that he’d managed to accomplish the important part of the plan. Without Bronagh’s phone there was no other way of finding out the contact details of others involved.
And that’s where Chrissy would come in handy.
Chapter 58
It was gone midday by the time Brocc got the phone back to Chrissy at the garage, where they’d arranged to meet earlier on. He felt pleased with himself, like Oliver Twist handing over to the Artful Dodger after a successful morning pickpocketing.
“Excellent work,” said Chrissy. “I need it long enough to go through and figure out what these texts mean and who they belong to, who the contacts are. The end of the day preferably.”
“Can you do it quicker? Only I’m going back for a late lunch. I told her I’d go and check on her so it would be best if I could slip it back then. Will it give you enough time, do you think?”
It wasn’t ideal. She needed longer than an hour or so, but her brain gave her another solution. It would work. “Should be all right,” she said. “Let me use your office.”
“It’s over there,” he said, pointing to a grimy space nearby. A tyre company calendar hung on the open doorway and she could only imagine what the pictures were of. The space was as dirty as she’d assumed, but there was somebody’s jacket hung on the back of the door, so she turned it inside out before sitting on it. Grease was a pig to get out of any clothing and she didn’t want to spoil her own. She got to work quickly; it was a bonus that the shop assistant hadn’t put a passcode on already. Brocc had given her the password to Bronagh’s account, which she’d written on a piece of paper in case they needed to do a whole new download, but Chrissy was confident they’d manage with what they’d got. She got to work first on the texts, figuring that that would be the preferred form of communication, as it was with many people, and she scrolled through the list looking at the names, not that they meant anything to her at this stage. There were some strange ones other than the normal Graham or Jeremy or Julian or whoever else, as if they’d been given code names. They made no sense. Carrying on scrolling through she came across ‘Ed Sheeran’ and ‘wine bottle top’. She doubted Bronagh really had a direct line through to Ed so it had to be code for something. There were several others in the same vein. Just what were ‘Autumn Climb’ or ‘Old Line’? Chrissy figured the woman had a sense of humour or liked cryptic crosswords and made a mental note to ask if she did. She took photographs of the details contained within each contact with her own phone, but didn’t pay any attention to what the information said or could possibly refer to at this stage. She could do that later when she’d got more time. With all the texts gone through and copious photographs taken of each conversation, she carried on through the contacts list and clicked on recent, but again most of the names made no sense. Anyone else that picked up the phone would be equally stumped but that was likely the point. It was Bronagh’s own form of security. A quick look through the apps told her she did indeed like puzzles, but there was little else of interest, and no social media channels. She clicked on the photos icon and quickly scrolled through the last few, though the majority appeared to be views of the sea from various places around the country. There was no location obvious for any of them.
There was one other place that Chrissy needed to check so she tapped into location services, scrolled all the way down to the bottom, tapped system services and clicked on significant locations. It was a little-known detail, unless you were techy minded, an area that automatically recorded places visited regularly and how much time was spent there. If Bronagh spent every Sunday morning at church for an hour, it would show the location and length of time the p
hone was there. It was a goldmine of information if someone wanted to spy on your whereabouts. Chrissy was pleased Bronagh hadn’t turned it off and scanned the list quickly. It made interesting reading and she photographed the entries to look at in better detail later. She now had everything she needed from the phone, which was perfect because she was conscious of time. Brocc had to get back to his sister and she to their holiday home. She gave Brocc the phone and said, “I’ll need some time to sift through this lot. It makes interesting reading if you know what you’re looking at and since it’s clear she’s being cryptic, it might take me a while. I’m assuming she’s a crossword girl?”
“Does one every day. She’s probably doing today’s right now. Mad for the puzzles, she is.”
“Let’s see what I can come up with and I’ll get back to you. Now all you’ve got to do is make the switch back again.”
“No problem.” He was confident.
Chapter 59
Chrissy left Brocc to his work and called in at the bread shop, the one thing she’d escaped from the house for in the first place, before racing back home. The rain had since stopped, though the day was not at all warming to the soul and after her earlier drenching she could feel herself getting cold. The last thing she wanted was a chill. She made her way back, mulling over everything she’d seen in Bronagh’s phone. There were plenty of photos to sift through and try and understand. The location reading settings on the phone were the most interesting and something that she could figure out almost straight away. The names and contacts meant nothing at this stage, but the places the woman had visited on a regular basis were all nicely listed for her to figure out. She was surprised at how varied the locations were across the southern part of Ireland and in particular a couple of locations further south near Cork – Kinsale, to be precise. Doolin was mentioned but she lived in Doolin so that was a given. Other areas included Castlebar and Templemore, as well as Kilkenny and Ennistymon, just down the road. She wondered if it was the same address as the one she’d been watching only last night. What were the chances? Now all she needed to do was figure out what happened at these locations, which would be easier said than done. From the messages it looked like Bronagh received packages of some description, but Chrissy wasn’t fooled that they would be for the shop either. What were these packages and where did they come from and why were they so important? Did she then distribute the contents, perhaps? Bronagh didn’t look like the average drugs mule to her. Ciara’s earlier quip about being a drug baron pricked at her mind. Still, it didn’t seem plausible for the older woman. By the time she’d reached the house, she’d got more questions than answers. But a crazy thought had surfaced – could she and Brocc put a fake order through the system perhaps? Or send a package? She’d need Bronagh’s phone again to do so, the message would have to use the same mobile number. Brocc’s phone wouldn’t work in that respect. She tossed the idea around some more. If they did send a text and requested a package it could be dangerous since they’d no possible clue what the woman was involved in. It might also be nothing, an embarrassing something that Bronagh wanted to keep hidden and nothing to do with anything else. Maybe she had a fancy man, maybe she was a part-time mature hostess, though Chrissy doubted both of the scenarios. Being a babysitter, or a cleaner, she wasn’t likely to be driving such distances to do so, it was too far-fetched.