Sudden Times

by Dermot Healy

  28

  paragraph 5

  Could you read paragraph 5, page 3.

  Why do you want me to read it out?

  The court would like to hear your observations on this phenomenon.

  Why?

  Leave the questions to me, Mr Ewing. Please read.

  I don’t want to.

  Mr Ewing, if you don’t read from the document somebody else will. Do you understand?

  I understand.

  Lift the document and read. Paragraph 5, page 3. Right?

  Glass-sprinklers. I have just seen the one in action.

  Please, go on.

  They are like a tank.

  Indeed. He smiled broadly. Continue, Mr Ewing.

  They can spit glass in a ring. One night I saw one when I was out walking, it never touched me. It was on a motorway flyover.

  Yes?

  You could hear the glass going whoosh, definitely glass.

  And the next line reads, your honour: Some sort of yoke for breaking glass. Is that correct, Mr Ewing?

  Yes.

  You may put the document down. He smiled at me. Now would you not say that some of your observations are a trifle bizarre.

  Maybe.

  Glass-sprinklers?

  That’s right.

  Glass-sprinklers, Mr Ewing?

  What else could you call it?

  Indeed. He laughed. What else indeed? He laughed again and then spun on his toes. Mr Ewing, are you telling us that you encountered a machine for breaking glass on a motorway flyover?

  I did that night.

  But not since?

  No.

  Nor ever before?

  No.

  And why do you think that is?

  Maybe they’ve gone out of production.

  I would not try to be funny if I was you. I’d like to remind you that two people who were associates of yours are dead. I don’t think that is a laughing matter, do you?

  No.

  Explain to the court what glass-sprinklers are?

  I don’t know.

  Do they come under the same heading as assassins with rifles? Do they, Mr Ewing?

  I can’t explain it.

  I can appreciate that.

  It’s difficult.

  The court – he swung away from me – can appreciate, Mr Ewing, that you have a capacity to observe phenomena some of us lesser creatures will never see. But what we are doing is trying to separate fact from fiction. Do you understand?

  Yes.

  So let me put it to you that what you are saying is unbelievable.

  It’s what happened.

  Come, come. Men with rifles, glass-sprinklers? What next? What next indeed.

  protection rackets

  Let us go back to June 18th.

  All right.

  You had been searching for your friend, Mr Kilgallon.

  Yes.

  Your statement to the police says he was worried about protection rackets.

  That’s right.

  What manner of protection racket?

  I don’t know. Something to do with the building trade. Something to do with haulage. I don’t know.

  And who ran these protection rackets?

  I don’t know.

  Do you know of any specific reason why anyone would want to murder your friend?

  No.

  Your statement reads: He was making too much money and the other boys were making nothing. Whether they were English or Irish I don’t know. I think they were English. Is that correct? Is that what you said to the police?

  If you say I said it, I must have.

  You don’t remember saying it? Please turn to page 4 of the document in front of you.

  No, it’s all right. I accept I said it.

  You accept you said it. Thank you, Mr Ewing, he said, then bowed to me and turned away. I think they were English. What do you mean by that?

  I mean what it says.

  That he was killed by some English gang?

  It means maybe he was killed by some English lads.

  Do you have any evidence for that assertion?

  No.

  Why not an Irish gang for instance?

  I don’t know.

  What have you got against the English, Mr Ewing?

  politics

  Would you say you are a political person, Mr Ewing?

  No. Definitely not.

  And Mr Kilgallon, was he a political person?

  No.

  In fact, you said he was a Muslim.

  I said he was thinking of becoming a Muslim.

  Would you not consider that a political act?

  No.

  To my mind that would be a very political act.

  It was the religious aspect that attracted him.

  Is that so? And you, who claim you are also not political, can make an assertion that – I quote – some English lads – unquote – killed your friend.

  That’s not political.

  Is it not? Why – since you had no evidence to back up this assertion, did you say it?

  I said maybe.

  Why English lads, Mr Ewing?

  It must have been something Marty said.

  Ah, but unfortunately Mr Kilgallon is dead.

  Yes. They killed him.

  Who killed him, Mr Ewing? You just said they killed him. Who? I repeat, who killed your friend Mr Kilgallon?

  I don’t know. I thought this court case was about who killed my brother.

  Yes it is. But, you see, Mr Ewing, you yourself implicated Mr Reynolds and the accused, Mr MacVeigh, in the death of Martin Kilgallon. Didn’t you?

  hiding out

  You say your friend, Mr Kilgallon, prior to his death, went north.

  On business.

  What type of business?

  I don’t know.

  You don’t know. How many times have we heard you say those words – I don’t know – over the last few days?

  I haven’t counted them.

  Quite. Neither have I. But would you say that you have continued to mislead this court by claiming you don’t remember, or you don’t know, or in some cases using a combination of the two, in order to safeguard yourself?

  I’m trying to tell the truth.

  Good, the court is pleased to hear that, Mr Ewing. And he smiled. Now on what business did Mr Kilgallon go north?

  I don’t know, I say.

  Have you any evidence that he went north?

  That’s where he said he was going.

  But that is the problem, Mr Ewing. We have only your word that he intended going north, haven’t we?

  What difference does it matter where he went?

  Well, if he remained in London, while you say he went north – it makes a big difference, doesn’t it.

  I can’t see why.

  Because it means you’re lying.

  I’m not lying. I believe he went north because that’s where he said he was going.

  And where was he found dead?

  In Hammersmith.

  A few streets away, in fact, from where you were illegally living on a building site.

  I was not there illegally.

  Why did you implicate Mr Reynolds and Mr MacVeigh in the death of your friend Mr Kilgallon?

  Because Marty told me he was thinking of going to work for Silver John.

  Again the court has only your word as to what Mr Kilgallon might or might not have said.

  I can’t help that. He told me he was thinking of going to work for Silver John. Then he disappeared. Then I found him dead. That’s the story.

  Tell me this, Mr Ewing. After you left the site at Hammersmith where did you go?

  To Clapham.

  Not so fast, Mr Ewing. Where did you spend the next few weeks living?

  The next weeks?

  Yes.

  In Liverpool Street.

  Where, exactly?

  On the site I was working on.

  So you moved from one site to another?

>   That’s right.

  Why did you not get an apartment? You were working. Why did you not get a flat or lodgings like any other person in your position?

  It fell out like that. I hadn’t time.

  I see. I put it to you that you were trying to avoid having proper accommodation.

  I was not. It just happened that way.

  You arrive in London and you live illegally on a site. Your friend is killed and what do you do? You move on to another site where you cannot be detected or found. Why was that?

  It just happened.

  Why were you trying to avoid normal accommodation?

  I wasn’t.

  I put it to you that you were in fact hiding out.

  No.

  Did you leave your new address with the police?

  No.

  Your friend Martin Kilgallon has just been killed and what do you do? – You disappear.

  I didn’t disappear.

  You did not tell the police where you were moving because you wanted to disappear.

  I told them that I was working on the buildings.

  But did you tell them where?

  I showed them my tax forms.

  Did you?

  I did.

  Well, Mr Ewing, we have only your word for that. What’s recorded here is your address at the site. Occupation: labourer. Education: 4 A-levels. Nationality: Irish. All the police knew at that juncture was that you were living on that site. After you left Hammersmith they had no record of you. By the time they discovered you were working in Liverpool Street you had disappeared again. Do you make a habit of disguising where you live?

  No.

  So why did you give a false address to your employer?

  What?

  Olive Street

  Mr Ewing – do you recall Mr John Reynolds and two of his employees driving you home on a certain date towards the end of July?

  Yes.

  So, please explain to the court what happened.

  They left me to Clapham.

  Yes. What else?

  There’s nothing else.

  Oh but there is, Mr Ewing. You in fact gave them a bogus address. Mr Reynolds will give evidence, as will his two employees, Mr Raynard and Mr Magus, that you in fact brought them to an address – in Manor Street I believe – where you did not live. Why did you do that, Mr Ewing?

  I wanted to keep my address to myself.

  Why?

  Just.

  I see. And then a few days later Mr Reynolds called at that address only to discover that you had lied to him. Is that right?

  Yes.

  You had never lived there?

  No.

  You in fact lived in Olive Street. Correct?

  Yes.

  So again we have this wish to deceive.

  No.

  You are, in fact, a compulsive liar.

  I am not! Didn’t I invite them to the party?

  Ah but, Mr Ewing, look what happened to those gentlemen there. Look what happened to your brother, Redmond Ewing. You deliberately set up this party so that a gang of youths could launch an assault on Mr Reynolds and Mr MacVeigh. Isn’t that right? Isn’t that right, Mr Ewing?

  29

  fucking Irish cunt

  On the night you found your friend Martin Kilgallon dead you claimed that you had been searching for him for days.

  And nights.

  How many days and nights?

  About two weeks, maybe more.

  And you stopped in the Portakabin each night while he was away?

  Yes. Except for the time I was at work.

  Did you have any callers over the period that you were staying in the Portakabin?

  Except for that madman claiming to be the foreman of the site there was nobody.

  He was the foreman.

  I didn’t know that.

  Why did you not let him in?

  I’d never met him. He had no identification on him. Marty told me not to allow anyone onto the site.

  Indeed. Did you have any other callers?

  No.

  Are you sure?

  Certain.

  Are you familiar with the Pastor of St James’s Church, Reverend Dawson?

  Yes, I knew him. We both did.

  And did he call to see you?

  He might have.

  I’ll ask you again. Did Reverend Dawson call to see you during this period?

  He shook the gate one night.

  In fact, he saw you in the Portakabin and called out your name. Is that right?

  Yes.

  And what did you do?

  Nothing. I didn’t answer him.

  In fact, you cowered down out of sight.

  Maybe.

  Why?

  I don’t know.

  Reverend Dawson, who had befriended you both, visits you, and not only do you not let him in, you refuse to answer his call and then hide from view. Why, Mr Ewing?

  I wasn’t in the mood for company.

  Oh. What were you hiding?

  I wasn’t hiding anything.

  Then explain to the court why you not only refused entry to the foreman of the site, but then refused the visit of Reverend Dawson.

  I was panicking.

  Panicking?

  Yes. Because Marty was gone and I thought this crowd might be after me.

  If he was missing, surely the most obvious thing to do was to speak to someone. To tell the foreman. To explain to Reverend Dawson. To contact the police. Why did you do none of these things, Mr Ewing?

  I couldn’t think.

  But you were able to deny the rightful owner entrance on to his own site.

  I tell you I did not know who he was. He started calling me names.

  Oh, did he?

  He called me a thick fucking Irish cunt.

  I suppose he was English too.

  Yes.

  Are you sure about that?

  No.

  He leant down and spoke to someone at his elbow then turned back to me. I gather Mr Gaynor, the foreman who works for Mr McKenna, is in fact Irish.

  Is he?

  Now, if he was Irish why would he call you a fucking Irish cunt, Mr Ewing?

  Maybe he’s been living over here too long.

  Ah, I see – they are all against you, aren’t they, Mr Ewing?

  Including you.

  Indeed. He turned to the court and nodded appreciatively.

  self-destruction

  Mr Kilgallon died of severe burns from acid. Is that right?

  Yes.

  Are you all right, Mr Ewing?

  Yes.

  Shall I continue?

  Go on.

  I believe, in fact, he spoke of this acid to you, referring to its properties of self-destruction?

  I suppose you could put it like that.

  When did he mention this to you?

  Not long after I arrived.

  And what did he say?

  He said I had to be careful. There was this protection crowd that would throw it over you.

  Why would they throw it over you?

  I suppose if they had something against you.

  Like what?

  If you didn’t pay up.

  And?

  I don’t know. It could be for anything.

  Have you heard of it happening?

  Yes.

  You have? Please tell the court.

  Didn’t Marty die of it?

  Mr Ewing, the court is aware of the manner of Mr Kilgallon’s death. What the court wishes to know is whether you know of any other instances of these so-called protection gangs throwing acid on persons in the building trade?

  No. But I’m sure it has happened.

  But not to your knowledge?

  Is it not enough that Marty died of it?

  Mr Ewing, do you know of someone other than Mr Kilgallon who died in the building trade by having acid poured over them?

  You don’t have to use acid.

  No?

  No. Yo
u can use petrol, can’t you?

  back in the Lag

  After the death of your friend Martin Kilgallon you went to the Lagoon Bar in Wood Green.

  Not immediately.

  But soon after.

  That’s right.

  Why?

  Marty had mentioned that he had intended to work for a man called Silver John.

  I see. At this juncture did he say anything at all derogatory about Mr Reynolds?

  No.

  Did he impute to you that Mr Reynolds had anything to do with these so-called protection rackets?

  No.

  So, in fact, as far as Mr Kilgallon was concerned, Mr Reynolds was a worthy, honest employer. Would he have suggested going to work for him if he did not trust him?

  I suppose not.

  Good, thank you, Mr Ewing. So you went to the Lagoon Bar to see him?

  Yes.

  Why?

  I wanted to ask Silver John did he know anything about what happened to Marty.

  I see. Why should he know anything of what had happened to your friend Mr Kilgallon?

  Because Marty might have gone to work for him.

  But he hadn’t had he?

  Not that I know.

  You were told that, were you not?

  Yes.

  Not once, or twice, but many times.

  I was told he had not worked for Silver John.

  But you persisted in insulting Mr Reynolds.

  I did not.

  Then you attacked him.

  I did not.

  We have witnesses to say you attacked him on the street and that Mr MacVeigh had to come to his rescue.

  That’s not true. And I have a witness who will say different.

  And who is this, pray?

  There was a plumber who came to my aid.

  Mr McDonagh?

  I don’t know his name. He was from Wexford.

  Yes, we have spoken to Mr McDonagh, who is from Wexford in the Irish Free State. He says that you attacked Mr Reynolds.

  He would not say that. I’m afraid you have the wrong man.

  Did you stay in his house – the house of this plumber?

  Yes.

  Well, that is Mr McDonagh.

  He wouldn’t say I attacked Silver John.

  I’m afraid he does.

  I don’t believe it.

  He says that you grabbed Mr Reynolds by the shoulders and began to scream abuse. Do you remember that?