by Lj McEvoy
‘Thank you for everything,’ speaking in English he winked back at her as he kissed her on each cheek, ‘and I’ll take you up on your invitation, I promise you’ll regret your suggestion!’
She laughed, ‘You’ll probably evict me if I change my mind.’
Checking the time and noticing that Gabrielle was still recovering from crying, Lauren asked would all three like to stay in the house to talk privately afterwards they could lock up with the spare keys, she took them from a drawer placing them on the counter top.
‘Decide what you want to do, but I’ve got to leave to collect Emma and Keith,’ leaving the kitchen to get her jacket and hat, she was putting them on when all three entered the hallway.
‘We’ll leave with you Lauren but thank you for your kind invitation,’ Jean-Pierre said.
‘And I’ll hold on to your spare keys, just in case you forget or lose your originals,’ David dangled them on his finger smiling.
‘Oh no you won’t, you’re never here,’ Gabrielle snapped them from him, which quickly wiped the smile from his face; ‘We will keep them in the house, if you want us to Lauren.’
‘Good idea Gabrielle, I should have asked you ages ago. Thanks,’ Lauren responded with her face beginning to blush again. ‘Stop it!’ she screamed to herself.
All four left the house together, Lauren beeping and waving as she drove away.
‘You have found us an excellent new neighbour and friend my son,’ Jean-Pierre emphasized the word friend as he placed his hand on David’s shoulder.
David looked at him fully comprehending, ‘I know Papa and believe me when I say, the way I feel at the moment friend is the only thing on my mind,’ both men smiled to each other but Gabrielle grunted. She didn’t want to lose Lauren and knew that if David tried anything and it failed, Lauren would probably leave.
Noting her disapproval David stopped walking and turned to his mother, ‘Maman please she will be a good friend, someone we can trust I can get that feeling from her. But I’m enjoying how she blushes sometimes it’s in my nature I can’t stop myself! I feel she is the same and will get used to me.’
‘Friends only,’ Gabrielle searched David’s face for the truth.
‘I promise, Maman,’ he reassured her.
Gabrielle just grunted in response.
Chapter 13
Dublin – Detective Inspector O’Reilly observed the packed room. Thirty-five men now under his command, the new Minister for Justice is trying his damnest to prove a point. O’Reilly felt a little nervous which surprised him even though he had an excuse he reasoned with himself, this was the largest command of his career and now he too wanted to prove his ability.
Everybody was talking, loud laughter came from one of the far corners and the smoke, which was beginning to suffocate the small room, was stinging his small narrow eyes, he rose to open a side window. Turning back he decided it would be friendlier and open if he sat at the front of the desk rather than on the chair and perhaps just throw a few subtle hints to the gathering that it was in fact illegal to smoke in the workplace.
Eyeing the small desk which belonged to a schoolroom rather than the headquarters of the Irish Police Force, as he walked to the front of it he awkwardly lowered his bulky rural frame to sit on it, he wondered if the bloody thing was going to collapse with his weight. But thankfully it just moaned a little and the anxious frown disappeared from his low forehead but he kept one foot on the ground prepared.
Checking the personnel files once more he flicked through them casually, unable to believe the cream of the force were here under his command, Bridge and Kane from the Press Office, Ryan and White from the Forensic Photographic Section, Burke, Fitzgerald and Morriarty from the International Liaison Office. Specialists from nearly every section, Fraud, Criminal Assets Bureau, National Drugs Unit, National Bureau of Criminal Investigation and of course his own Special Detective Unit.
Listening to the sparring between the detectives from the different departments, he knew it was one of those light-hearted routines that made life and their work that little bit easier. Relieved, he sensed that there was no tension on the team, each detective received a brief background to the investigation when receiving their transfer orders so they knew that trust and professionalism must be there from the start.
He cleared his throat and commenced his speech but he got no-one’s attention so he rapped the desk with his large red knuckles. As the noise level lowered he cleared his throat once more. Introducing himself, he looked around they’re getting younger and taller by the minute he thought wryly to himself remembering how he just barely passed the height requirement. ‘You’re lucky you’ve got the country build in ya,’ his Dublin Sergeant said to him on his first day in Pearse St. Station. ‘Now that seems such a long time ago,’ he ironically thought.
His mind jumped fast-forward to the present as the assembled were silent and waiting. ‘Today,’ he informed the anticipated faces staring back at him, ‘will be a getting to know each other and the task ahead of us.’ Admitting he knew some of them through their records only he wanted everybody to introduce themselves and talk about what they felt was their line of thinking on this case. ‘I want suggestions, ideas,’ he told them, ‘everything will be taken into consideration, everything,’ emphasizing that word, ‘will be noted.’
‘Our bosses in Dail Eireann wants this investigation up, running and closed as quickly as possible, as discreetly as possible. So now consider yerselves undercover twenty-four seven, for those who have partners or families, prepare them but definitely don’t reveal anything of this investigation to them,’ he stressed. ‘This is your life for the next few weeks or few months however long its going to take. Prepare yourselves. We need a result from this one, as usual politics and budgets are coming into the frame so if we can prove that with the proper resources and backing we can achieve results, maybe there won’t be anymore cutbacks, just investment. Now can we start with Det. Sgt. Marc Farrell?’ O’Reilly looked around the room finding his second in command at the back where previously the loud laughter emerged, he nodded to Marc and the detective commenced with his introduction.
O’Reilly watched the reaction of his other colleagues in the room, respect was showing on the majority of the assembled as Farrell walked around the room, it was important that his second-in-command had authority and influence over the others but could be relied upon to act as the go-between between O’Reilly and the team.
Listening to Marc as he spoke and discussed the assignment with the others, O’Reilly admired the lean, muscular man walking about the room, pleased with the fact that Marc was achieving a sense of equality and comradeship within the team. O’Reilly could see this young, enthusiastic, fair-haired man rising in the ranks and out passing both himself and others in the room, his features and body language as he spoke were as sharp as his mind.
‘Maybe one day he’ll be sitting on this desk and I’ll be the second in command walking around the room encouraging the assembled,’ he thought despairingly. But then he laughed to himself, ‘you’ve three more years left before retirement Dermot, hopefully you’ll be fishing on the Shannon before that happens.’
Ahh fishing on the Shannon, despairing at the thought of being unable to spend his winter vacation there; all holidays for this team were now officially suspended until the case was closed. ‘Not even a weekend break,’ he sighed remembering the last weekend he and his wife spent on their little cruiser moored in between Lough Key and Lough Gara in County Roscommon. With both being from Boyle in Roscommon they loved to return there as often as possible to see family and friends. Taking trips along the Shannon, the longest river in Ireland, gave them the ability to visit the many riverside towns, pubs and restaurants. Sometimes if he was successful on one of his many attempts at fishing they would moor at the side of the river to enjoy a peaceful evening together. Ahh the Shannon - opening its arms to those who want either the option of tranquillity or a bloody good night out.
Quickly putting
his yearning to the back of his mind, he switched back to the present day. Having rehearsed this line of introduction earlier this morning with Marc, he then commenced pinning pictures of the family being discussed along with their personal and public details. As each officer in the room spoke, if it related to what the officer said he would pin more information on the large notice board until the file was empty. Nothing was left out everybody he ensured would know the smallest of detail.
Eventually, the discussion finished with the assembled studying the Board, a picture of the Minister for Justice was placed beside one member of the family being discussed, O’Reilly received permission from the Minister to inform the team of his connection and involvement. At the end of the board was a poster with a shaded figure containing a red key, all knew and recognised the symbol and the meaning.
‘This,’ O’Reilly stated, ‘my friends is the key to solving our case but despite every effort and resource we only have one suspect and no evidence. If we get to him or her as the case may be, we should wrap up this case in no time.’ Then he added, ‘with evidence of course and our key.’
‘Why don’t we get a court order and confiscate all their records?’ Keegan from the Criminal Assets Bureau enquired.
Farrell answered before his boss could even draw breath, ‘Only under final, extreme and desperate circumstances will the courts be used for search warrants. Not only do we want the supplier and the carrier but we want the connection on the street. And with all the Governments involvement everything must be behind closed doors, when it does eventually go to court we hope the charges will be more than what we want to stop, with the main problem, that is the government’s connection only being an added inconsequential matter in the eyes of the public. In our eyes and the Governments, it will add more to the length of the sentence and the judge will be advised of this.’
Pointing to a photo pinned on the board, Farrell looked to his commander receiving the nod of approval, ‘because of the death of our initial suspect and the circumstances of that death, all suspicion now lies with this person as the chief carrier and navigator of how our problem is brought into the country. But when this case is wrapped up our Red Key will not only see the carrier locked up but also the negotiator between Colombia and Ireland and the streets of Dublin, Cork, Galway and wherever else. There are other countries involved but because of the nature of distribution, we cannot pinpoint every country as yet.’
After the meeting Farrell joined O’Reilly in his office, ‘So when are you off on your French holiday with the Minister?’ the young detective joked.
O’Reilly looked up in surprise, ‘How the hell do you know about that?’
‘Ah, Paul and I met at a Garda conference a few years ago, he was heading a political debate on past governments influence and involvement within the force. I had a lot to say and it was a heated debate but we’ve been friends ever since.’
O’Reilly grew wary, ‘in May.’
‘I made the connection when Paul said he was going to France on combined business and holiday then you informed us that you may be going to talk to Mrs Connolly. So how long will I be Julius for?’ Farrell grinned as he referred to the nickname the team already picked for their new boss.
O’Reilly chuckled at least the name wasn’t a bad one he just hoped nobody would stab him in the back like they did with Caesar, ‘I don’t know yet, one or two days perhaps. I’m still waiting for confirmation from the Minister; will the flight details be coming from you?’
Farrell smirked, ‘Paul and I are friends enjoying an occasional pint together, we don’t go into that sort of detail.’
‘Do you not now,’ O’Reilly replied sarcastically.
Chapter 14
Marseille – ‘Now don’t tell me part of the job description now includes having to buy the clothes as well as delivering the new arrivals!’
Veronique quickly shoved the pink and white baby dress back onto the rail, immediately recognising the Irish accent attempting her beloved French language. Turning she noticed Lauren was smiling with the smile soon disappearing when Lauren realised Veronique’s discomfort.
‘Oh I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you, is it for a friend?’
But Veronique didn’t know how to answer, ‘Mon Dieu an Irish woman is trying to talk to me in my own language and I don’t know what to say,’ her cheeks were beginning to burn, the shock of meeting someone she knew was still bouncing around in her stomach, normally she felt safe from prying eyes in the large city.
‘Are you okay?’ Lauren was becoming concerned, ‘you look very flushed’, immediately dropping her heap of shopping bags on the ground and taking Veronique’s arm.
‘Yes, but of course I’m sorry too, you’re the last person I expected to meet in here. Are you shopping for someone too?’
‘No,’ Lauren relaxed a little, ‘I always stop here if I’m passing by. But just to window shop mind you, the clothes are so beautiful and definitely too expensive if you ask me.’ Brushing her hand along the line of soft material she frowned slightly, ‘Ahh, I guess when you’re a mother the longing for the pretty pink and sky blue stays with you forever no matter how ridiculous the price.’
Veronique looked away with both sadness and anxiety showing on her face, she was dying to tell someone but the scan was not until the end of the week. But then Gabrielle did tell her that Lauren had refused to discuss what David did or say when she met up with him. Searching Lauren’s soft fair face an urge to confide her good news with someone suddenly overwhelmed her.
‘Do you want to go for coffee?’ she looked hopefully at Lauren but still wondering if she was right in trusting her. ‘What are you saying,’ Veronique scolded herself, but then both Jean-Pierre and Gabrielle trust Lauren and look what she did for David the other week. ‘I…I know a quiet little coffee shop just off Boulevard Eugene Pierre, it’s not far and it’s half-way back to the hospital.’
Lauren responded yes with a smile then asked nodding to the dress, ‘are you going to buy it?’
Veronique giggled suddenly feeling totally relieved and relaxed, ‘No not yet, I think I’ll wait and see what presents I get first.’
Lauren immediately hugged her whispering, ‘you’re right, don’t make it difficult for those bearing gifts.’
As the two women sat down in the little veranda section of the cafe, Veronique checked her watch to see how much time she had left before she needed to return to work.
‘You’re on your lunch?’ Lauren enquired as she lit up a cigarette.
‘I’ve only ten minutes before I must leave,’ she sighed as she looked up, ‘I didn’t know you smoked,’ Veronique sounded surprised.
‘Oh Christ you don’t mind, do you? I mean with you being pregnant and all, I didn’t think, sorry,’ Lauren leaned forward to stub it out in the ashtray.
‘No, don’t do that I’m used to it with Joel and Jean-Pierre, but I must admit Joel’s cutting down now and besides we are outdoor,’ Veronique blushed automatically looking down to her tummy, she couldn’t believe how relieved she felt now that she’s finally told someone, it was only one person but the liberation, she felt her tummy was starting to swell with pride. But then a slight panic arose within her, ‘please don’t tell anyone we haven’t informed the family yet.’
‘You mean I’m the first to know, wow thank you,’ Lauren was surprised and complemented at the same time, ‘when are you going to broadcast the good news?’
‘After the scan results at the end of the week,’ then sadly adding, ‘I’ve miscarried twice before, we don’t want to get anybody’s hopes up. The pressure is bad enough being a mid-wife, welcoming new arrivals into our world and I can’t even do the simple task myself.’
Without any sense of inhibition Lauren sympathetically held Veronique’s hand understanding totally how desperately this woman wanted the child now growing inside her. ‘It’s not an easy task Veronique and it doesn’t get any easier once they do arrive,’ she laughed. Lauren never experien
ced the heartbreak of a miscarriage herself but she knew how the yearning for motherhood felt. It took nearly two years to convince Peter she wanted them to have a child and without success he just didn’t want one and when she finally did become pregnant, the look on his face told her immediately he wasn’t happy.
‘Accidents can happen, you know,’ she tried to joke with him but it didn’t even raise a smile from Peter. Even Keith was a genuine accident she regretfully thought, although she would never think him a mistake, thinking him too precious from the moment she was handed him wrapped up in towelling. Thankfully she had a close friend who she could share her joy with and Peter’s family were over the moon for them both. Lauren thoughts returned to the café and Veronique who was curiously looking at her.
‘I’m sorry my mind trailed back to when I had Emma and Keith.’
‘Have you miscarried too?’
‘Oh no, it’s not that,’ Lauren sighed admitting, ‘I wanted children, my husband didn’t. Actually I wanted a huge, loving family. Stupid I know, in this day and age and I thought with Peter coming from a large family he wanted that too.’ Shaking her head, ‘before he died I often wondered what we had in common, we married too quick, didn’t give myself or us time to think. We were only together for less than a year when we got married.’
‘You didn’t have to get married did you, I mean, were you pregnant?’ Veronique felt at ease asking her new friend such an intimate question, it was just the vibes she got from Lauren, ‘I’ve heard Ireland is a bit religious like that.’
Lauren laughed, ‘No, although many thought that when we announced our engagement after just four months together. It’s just that at the time I really loved Peter, I was truly fascinated by this high-flying, handsome and exciting young man but now I think, no I know it was just love and perhaps some entrancement, I was never in love with him, do you know what I mean?’
Veronique nodded understanding and knowing many friends who found themselves in such a situation, thankfully there was divorce in France. ‘I’ve seen many lives destroyed by such young ideas, but there are those that work out too you know. Didn’t I read somewhere that in Ireland divorce was illegal?’