by Pat Mullan
"General, I didn't expect to find you here," he said and then looking at the Senator: "Move away, Senator Hardy. I came here for one reason only. To kill you, Thackeray. You killed Liz Russo. I can't prove that. I just know it. And you kidnapped Kate to get to me. What were you going to do with her after you took care of me. Kill her too? Give her to your mad dogs to play with? But your dogs fucked up again, Thackeray!"
MacDara was caught giving full vent to his anger by more glass crashing from the french window. Kate was violently pushed into the room by Sal, hobbling behind her, holding the gun on her and screaming: "Here she is! I delivered her! I kept my word!". Perfect timing for Thackeray who dived for the nearest cover and came up firing at MacDara. MacDara hit the ground, diving to get close to Kate to protect her but he'd have been too late. Zachary Walker, jolted out of his fixation on Thackeray, jumped across the room and pushed Kate behind him. Thackeray's bullet caught him in the chest but he just stood there in front of her, shielding her, as the second bullet severed his aorta. He crumbled to the floor at Kate's feet.
Sal had been caught in the crossfire. The socket of his left eye was missing and he lay there staring, quite dead, from that one open eye. Owen had stopped firing. Thackeray and the Senator had made their escape from the room in the heat of battle but Owen didn't follow. Kate was his priority.
Kate just sat there, cradling the General's head in her lap. Owen knew there was no hope. The General seemed to be struggling to say something to Kate but the words never came. He died then, in her arms. Owen could swear that he saw the shadow of a smile on Zachary Walker's face in those last seconds.
They were halfway to Thackeray's car when the Senator stopped. Running from his own home was a panic reaction. He had no reason to run. The President could do nothing to him. All the mayhem back there had nothing to do with him. Nothing at all. Thackeray looked over his shoulder. Senator Hardy just stood there:
"I'm staying. I have no reason to leave my home."
"The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs is killed in your home! And you have no reason to leave?," said Thackeray, incredulously.
"That's exactly right. My judgement hasn't changed. The President will do nothing. We'll mop this mess up. I'm sure the General's death will be given an heroic explanation. You'd better go," replied the Senator, with a cold logic, as he turned his back on Thackeray and walked, unhurriedly, towards his front door. But he'd never reach it. He realized that, too late, when he heard the click. The bullet left a neat entry hole, framed in powder burns, behind his left ear. He didn't hear Tony Thackeray bid him a last farewell.
THIRTY-SIX
Dune Road
The Hamptons
They were packed and ready. The Aer Lingus flight was scheduled to leave Kennedy at nine o'clock, in two hours time. MacDara had told Shields he didn't want to be around. It was over. The President would never acknowledge the role he had played in recent weeks. He knew that. And that's the way he wanted it. He had taken the call from the White House this morning and had graciously accepted the President's thanks. As well as the invitation for both himself and Kate to spend a week at Camp David upon his return.
It was now seven o'clock and they thought it was the taxi taking them to the airport when the doorbell rang. But it was a courier with a package for Ms. Kate Whiteside, c/o Mr. Owen MacDara. Kate opened it with great curiosity. She read the brief letter enclosed and then opened the small box tucked inside. It cushioned a beautiful gold ring with the most magnificent amethyst stone she'd ever seen. Her eyes were moist as she handed the letter to Owen. The words were simple:
Dear Kate:
I was there in Seoul when you were adopted by Harry and Ruth. They have been your real parents in every way and I know you love them. But I knew your mother. She was a beautiful lady and she died giving birth to you. This was her ring. It came into my possession only recently. I can't explain the circumstances. But I think she would have wanted you to have it.
Zachary Walker.
EPILOGUE
Ardree House
Connemara
Ireland
It was a bright clear evening. Owen and Kate stood close together at the edge of the boat jetty. The sky was a sheet of pale turquoise between blankets of orange. Purple slate-grey clouds sat low on the hills beyond the lough. The water had tints of orange and red and dappled grey waves shimmered on its surface.
Owen could feel dusk descending. It was almost five-thirty. Time to go inside and turn on CNN. It would be 12:30 pm in Washington and the President would be talking to the American people and to the World.
The Doldergrand Hotel,
Zurich
James Joyce said that the weather in Zurich was like a baby's bottom, which meant that it could rain on you, unexpectedly. That's exactly what it did when Claude Fymat stepped out of his car in front of the Doldergrand. He sprinted the last few yards into the hotel, suffering only a few damp spots which didn't show up on his blue serge suit.
It was four pm and the restaurant at the Doldergrand was empty. Well, almost empty. One man occupied a table at the very rear of the restaurant. A pot of espresso and a bottle of sparkling Pellegrino sat in the middle of the table. Claude Fymat strode directly there and the man stood up to greet him. Claude Fymat noted that there was nothing in Tony Thackeray's demeanor to give even a hint of the crises he'd been through in recent days.
Tony Thackeray was talking. Claude Fymat was listening.
"Hardy was premature. America wasn't ready. But they will be, Claude. Soon. And, when they're ready, they'll know themselves. Then they'll take charge of their own destiny again. Dump the rot overboard. Just like they did with that tea in Boston Harbour. We didn't lose. We only postponed the inevitable."
Fymat could see the old, familiar messianic look in Thackeray's eyes as he continued:
"We have work to do. We will meet Tsu three days from now in Peking. You will return after that meeting. I will continue to Moscow and St. Petersburg."
They left the Doldergrand an hour later. No one saw them.
The New York Times; Friday, November 17, 1995 The item in the New York Times was buried in the middle of the paper: 'Colonel Robert Travers was found dead in his cell at Leavenworth Penitentiary yesterday morning. He was found lying in his bed at 8:15 a.m. There were no external signs of injury and informed sources said it appeared that he had died of natural causes.'
The New York Times; Thursday, December 21, 1995 Another item of news received minimal coverage: 'Bob Maxwell, long serving Chairman of the House Finance Committee, announced today that he was retiring, effective immediately, for health reasons.'
The Washington Post; Monday, January 15, 1996 The body of Supreme Court Justice Sheila Gregory was found in her car in the garage of her home in suburban Washington late yesterday. She had died from carbon monoxide poisoning. No suicide note was found. Her estranged husband, Paul Gregory, said that he was unaware of any emotional stress that Justice Gregory might have been suffering.
The Times; Tuesday, 26th March, 1996 The obituary of Lord Haverford appeared in the London Times on Tuesday, 26th March, 1996. Lord Haverford had passed away in his sleep. Death was due to natural causes. He was ninety-four years old. His son, the Honorable David Anthony Llewellyn Thackeray, will become the new Lord Haverford.
Reuters; Friday, 5th April, 1996 Peking announced today that James Scott Tsu was appointed Governor of Hong Kong with prime responsibility for ensuring the smooth transition of the province from British rule next year.
END
Pat Mullan was born in Ireland and has lived in England, Canada and the USA. Formerly a banker, he now lives in Connemara, in the west of Ireland.
He has published articles, poetry and short stories in magazines such as Buffalo Spree, Tales of the Talisman, Writers Post Journal. His poetry appears frequently in the Acorn E-zine of the Dublin Writers Workshop. His short story, Galway Girl, was short-listed for the WOW Awards and was published in the new WOW Magazine in Galway in Apr
il 2010. It is also one of his short stories that form part of his GALWAY NOIR anthology, available on-line from iPulp Fiction.
Recent work has appeared in the anthology, DUBLIN NOIR, published in the USA by Akashic Books and in Ireland and the UK by Brandon Books and again in ‘City-Pick DUBLIN’, published by Oxygen Books in 2010 to mark Dublin being chosen as UNESCO’S City of Culture for 2010.
The Circle of Sodom, received two nominations: one for Best First Novel and one for Best Suspense Thriller at the 2005 Love Is Murder conference in Chicago. His second novel, Blood Red Square, was published in the US in 2005 and a second edition was published this year (2011). His latest novel, Last Days of The Tiger, is also available on Amazon and all the on-line stores, as a trade paperback and as an ebook.
He is Ireland Chair of International Thriller Writers, Inc. and he is a member of Mystery Writers of America.
You can visit Pat at : www.patmullan.com
And Last Days of The Tiger is now available on Kindle, Smashwords and all good ebook stores; if you prefer the paperback you can find that on Amazon and other on-line bookstores.
Last Days of The Tiger
Burnt-out lawyer Ed Burke flees New York, a failed marriage, and a high pressure career as a criminal attorney and returns home to Dublin, Europe's most happening city. Hand-in-hand with the new prosperity, a culture of ruthless corruption has taken root and threatens to pervade the highest levels of government in Celtic Tiger Ireland and the EU.
Ed's new job, defending a prominent developer in a tribunal investigating the rezoning of prime residential property, draws him into the world of Ireland's elite movers and shakers who will stop at nothing to achieve their aims. He is also drawn into a passionate affair with an old flame, Pia, now the glamorous wife of a corrupt and powerful political leader.
As his infatuation turns into love, Pia is murdered in his own bed, and Ed has no doubt that her heartless, power-hungry husband is behind this murder.
Edmund Burke's quest to avenge Pia and free himself from a troubled past becomes an adrenaline-pumping race to save Ireland from the grip of a cabal of corrupt power brokers. He must find his way through a tangled web of lies, deceit and murder as he matches his wits against the Machiavellian schemes of the rich, the famous and the powerful who seek to mould the future of Europe and the West.
The buzz about Last Days of The Tiger
Here are some of the most recent reviews for Pat Mullan’s latest thriller, Last Days of The Tiger, (you can read the opening chapter - titled 'Tribunal' - in the anthology DUBLIN NOIR, out now in the US from Akashic Books, and in the UK and Ireland from Brandon Books):
“Pat Mullan’s latest, Last Days of The Tiger, is a razor blade down the spine. So fast-paced, expect whiplash. This is Irish noir with a hero whom you’ll want at your back in any gunfight. Grab a copy and clear your schedule!” James Rollins, New York Times best-selling author of BLACK ORDER.
"A high-powered legal thriller chocked full of betrayal, deceit, corruption, and murder. Mullan is Ireland's answer to John Grisham, with a smattering of Ross MacDonald thrown in. Last Days of The Tiger will make your head spin." JA Konrath, author of RUSTY NAIL.
“Pat Mullan is a natural born storyteller with a gripping, engaging style. He may just be the next big thing in Irish crime fiction.” Jason Starr, author of LIGHTS OUT.
“Last Days of The Tiger bristles with ingenuity, and a plot to kill for … this is a thriller of such high caliber that it transcends all genres … has all the Irish gifts: dizzy narrative, sly humor, and marvelous readability. It rocks! Ken Bruen, Edgar and Macavity Award winning author of THE GUARDS.
“Last Days of The Tiger is a tight, intelligent thriller. Author Pat Mullan blends political intrigue and murder with a unique Irish flavor that goes down smooth. His hero, Ed Burke, is striking – almost an anti-hero in some respects. To unravel the deception and save himself, Burke must test old friendships, and determine who to trust in an Ireland changed by the Celtic Tiger. Mullan writes suspense with an edge reminiscent of Bob Ludlum. An author to watch.” Cerri Ellis, Mostly Mystery Reviews.
And coming soon: Creatures of Habit
Two boys flee in terror across the grounds of their boarding school, on a night when the rain slices the air like sheets of broken glass and trees bend and groan under gale-force winds. Before midnight one will die, exposing a dark world, centuries old.
Emmet Joyce rejects the school’s assertion that his son died accidentally. With a Church surrounded by scandal, cover-ups within the Church, and failures to protect children in their care, the priests who run the school no longer command the unquestioning trust of their flock.
Emmet trusts only one man to uncover the truth: his cousin, Ed Burke. But Ed is now in Florida, recovering from stress and burn-out in his New York law practice, and a failed attempt to start again in Ireland. Despite his reluctance to return to Ireland, Ed knows that he can’t refuse his family at this time of need.
So Ed Burke returns again to find that the Ireland of the twenty-first century is still the Ireland of James Joyce where ‘Christ and Caesar go hand in glove’. His quest for the truth leads him from Galway and Dublin to Boston and Rome, following a trail enmeshed in one family’s desire to occupy the chair of Peter, a desire under threat from that dark world, centuries old.
But an avenger stalks the land, one who exacts justice at the end of a rope, one who seeks revenge, not truth. Ed knows that all roads lead to Rome and he also knows that, if he is to uncover what really happened to his cousin’s son, he must protect the guilty.
Advanced praise for CREATURES OF HABIT
“ Creatures of Habit, Pat Mullan’s powerful new novel, set mainly in “Celtic Tiger” Ireland, introduces the world to the “Lavender Mafia,” an international subset of pederastic priests, and their political protectors. The punning title displays the shimmer of evil that the novel’s hero, the all-too-human Ed Burke—a New York fixer, called to Dublin to clear up the mystery of the death of a cousin’s son—senses throughout.
The plot of Creatures of Habit, complex and fascinating, is yet not the main interest of this thriller. The story is stolen by humanity’s seemingly bottomless capacity for corruption. But we feel that Ed Burke will get to the bottom of things—and he does, in a manner of speaking.
Creatures of Habit is not the “the simple art of murder” that Raymond Chandler wrote about, but shares its own set of mysteries, ultimately impenetrable but powerful in action; for they display the perverse motives of the human heart in its animal needs and worst worldly deeds. Pederasty, madness, and murder abide. Ed Burke is just the man to smoke out corruption. This is certainly one of the most exciting, and powerful, thrillers I’ve ever read—the complex art of the thinker’s mystery. Great stuff!
There are shades here of Chesterton, Dorothy L. Sayers, and even Tom Clancy, but it is all Pat Mullan in his fullest expression, the style and the man. He has outdone himself. Bravo!” E.M.Schorb, award winning author and poet.
You can visit Pat at : www.patmullan.com
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