Dublin Odyssey

by Michael P. Cooney

  I could see the red backpack all the way down to the ground floor. When he reached the bottom, he turned left then…

  Mickey checks out the obvious first, the two small broom closets. Nothing. Then he notices the lid of the black trash can was slightly off-kilter. Mickey removes the lid and, voilà, one red backpack sitting on the bottom of a near-empty trash receptacle.

  That was too easy.

  Mickey reaches in, grabs the elusive red backpack, replaces the lid, and heads for O’Connell Garda Station a few blocks north of Trinity.

  CHAPTER 35

  “He has the courage of a robin.”

  Irish Proverb

  When Mickey reaches the O’Connell Garda Station he’s met at the front door by Garda Sergeant McNesby.

  “You must be Captain Devlin from America.”

  “I am. Nice to meet you, Sergeant.”

  “Please follow me, Captain. I have your John Deforrest in one of our interview rooms, just through this door and down the hall. I figured you’d want first crack at the young man.”

  Mickey follows the sergeant. “I appreciate it, Sergeant. I’m kinda on a tight schedule.”

  “So I hear. Had a chance to talk to Superintendent O’Clooney earlier. He speaks very highly of you, sir.”

  “He’s a great friend and a great partner.”

  “That he is. That he is. We were classmates at the Garda College. After graduation we walked a beat together in Irish Town. Couldn’t have asked for a better fellow as a partner. Here we go. Deforrest is in here.”

  The sergeant opens the door for Mickey and closes it after he is in. He walks in carrying a red backpack. John Deforrest is sitting at a gray steel desk and is handcuffed to the arms of a matching chair. Mickey puts the bag on the table and makes note of Deforrest’s look of surprise. Mick notices the one-way mirror that takes up half of the wall behind Deforrest.

  Keeping an eye on me, are ya, Saarg?

  Deforrest has a small cut above his left eyebrow. Mickey decides to start off as the “nice cop.” He points to the cut.

  “You want that looked at, John Paul?”

  Deforrest is startled Mickey used his middle name.

  “No, it’s fine.”

  “You want something to drink? I saw a soda machine in the hall. I could get…”

  “No! I’m not thirsty. I just need—I just want to get out of here. I didn’t do anything illegal. I’m just a grad student. I’m being held against my will just because I was running. I thought you were some kind of a predator. So I took off. Last time I looked, running isn’t a crime in Ireland.”

  “You started to say you ‘need’”—Mickey does air quotes—”to get out of here. What did you mean?”

  “I didn’t say that. And how come you lied to me about who you really are? Why are you harassing me? Why were you chasing me?”

  “Did you call your father back in Texas? Dallas, isn’t it, John Paul?”

  “He’s not in Texas. And why aren’t you answering my questions? Why are you asking about my father? How do you know where I’m from and stuff? You’ve been checking me out? I ain’t a criminal. I told you, I’m a student and graduate assistant at Trinity College.”

  “Don’t you think your father should know what’s going on? What you’re doing in Ireland with your professor? What if your dad is trying to get hold of you for some—some emergency?”

  “He can’t—he’s not trying to contact me. Stop with all the questions about my father.”

  “I’m a father myself. So I know I’d be worried if my kid was mixed up in what you are. So if I were your dad, I’d—”

  “I’m not mixed up in anything. I’m just a grad student. I want you to stop with the—”

  “The Garda found your white cowboy hat, John. Ya know. The one your dad sent you. The one you said was misplaced.”

  “What? You found my hat? Where’s it at?”

  “The Garda has it. It was on the front seat of a yellow Volvo. Do you own a yellow Volvo? Or do you know anybody with a yellow Volvo, John Paul?”

  “I know a lot of people who drive Volvos. It’s a very safe car.”

  “The Volvo I’m asking you about was parked in a barn at Patrick Drum’s sheep ranch. A barn loaded with military explosives. Explosives that almost killed a good friend of mine.”

  Mickey turns to a universally used investigative tool: he lies.

  “The Garda checked the vehicle identification number, the VIN, and the Volvo is registered to you, John. Why do you think that is, John Paul?”

  “Please stop calling me John Paul. It’s really starting to bother me.”

  Why do you think I’m doing it, John Paul?

  “Sure! How about if I call ya Tex. Is that better? Why did you toss your backpack, Tex?”

  Deforrest doesn’t respond.

  “Tex, can you explain how your hat was found in Castleknock at a sheep ranch, owned by a man you said you never heard of?”

  “I told you I don’t know no fuckin’ Drum. I don’t own a Volvo. Never did. How my cowboy hat ended up in somebody’s barn I—”

  Deforrest yanks his cuffed arms up and down several times, then slumps in his chair and begins to sob.

  Now we’re getting somewhere.

  “I’m telling you the truth. I don’t know any Drum. But once I heard Professor Collins talking to someone on the phone he called Drummer. Maybe—”

  “What was Collins saying to Drummer, Tex?”

  “Ahhh! He was yelling in the phone. I remember ‘cause he asked me to ‘take a walk.’ So I did.”

  “Do you remember anything Collins was yelling? Anything at all? Think, Tex. It could be a life or death answer. Cooperate and I’ll see what I can do for you.”

  Deforrest looks down at his cuffed wrists. He shakes his head side to side a few times, then answers Mickey.

  “All I remember him saying was something like ‘who knew he had a weak heart’ and something about ‘using the deep end of the pool.’ I have no idea what any of that means. I didn’t go back to the office for an hour. By then, Collins was gone.”

  “Okay, Tex. I hope you’re telling the truth. Now, you wanta try to convince me about the whole misplaced hat thing?”

  “All I can tell you is that I used to keep it hanging on a coat hook in Professor Collins’ outer office. One day it was there. And then it was gone. I asked Collins about it. He just said, ‘Don’t worry, it’ll show up.’”

  I’m starting to believe this kid.

  “So what’s all the sobbing about, son?”

  Mickey felt using “son” might help to show concern.

  Deforrest starts to sob again. “It’s my dad. That’s why I’m doing what I doing. They said if I didn’t help them they would—they would kill my dad. If you look in that bag, you’ll find a bunch of photos of my dad.”

  Deforrest starts to weep harder. Between sniffles he describes what’s in the photos.

  “They beat him. They used a branding iron on him. They—they put a gun in his mouth and…”

  Mickey unzips the top of the red backpack, looking for the photos of John’s father.

  “They’re in the front pouch.”

  Mickey pulls the black Velcro apart, reaches in the pouch, and pulls out a small stack of five-by-seven color photos with a rubber band around them. He scans the stack the way he used to scan a new pack of baseball cards fresh out of the bubblegum coated pack when he was a kid. The photos were exactly as John described them. They show a middle-aged man tied to a chair, battered and bloodied. Although Mickey senses Deforrest is finally starting to be truthful, he still has to ask the obvious.

  “How do I know this is your father? This could be anybody. This poor guy could be someone you beat and took pictures for just a moment like this. Are these pictures taken at your dad’s home in Texas?”

  “No! I don’t know where they were taken.”

  Mickey noticed something familiar in the photos of the senior Deforrest. Drawn cotton curtains reveale
d a large wood barn with double doors across the yard. Drum’s sheep ranch. Mickey is getting a bad feeling about the well-being of John’s father.

  “When was the last time you talked to your dad?”

  “Sunday. He was in Japan on business. He said he was going to Germany the next day. Monday. And that he was gonna try to fly into Dublin to spend some time with me.”

  “I take it he never showed.”

  “He didn’t. But that kinda thing happens all the time. He says he’s gonna stop by, but business stuff gets in the way.”

  “When did these pictures of your dad show up?”

  “Tuesday night. I also got a letter. First part threatened to kill my dad. Second part gave me a list of instructions. Last part said to memorize the instructions and then destroy the letter. I did. Then I burnt it.”

  “You burnt it?”

  “I was scared. I didn’t know who sent it. I started to get paranoid. You’re not helping either.”

  “Yeah. But you haven’t been exactly forthcoming till now, son.”

  “I’m not lying. I just want this thing to be over. I want my dad to be safe. There’s another picture in the pack. A framed picture of me and my dad. Look on the back, it’s dated 9-22-95. That picture was taken on my birthday back in Texas. That was just before I came to Ireland. That was the last time I saw my dad.”

  The month and day, 9-22, coincided with the date of birth Kevin gave Mickey from Deforrest’s passport.

  “I’m gonna need you to write down those instructions, John. All of them. Think you can do that?”

  “I can. And I will, if it’ll get my dad back.”

  “It’ll help.”

  Mickey looks toward the one-way mirror and mouths, “Pen and paper.”

  A minute later, a uniformed Garda opens the interview room door and hands Mick the ballpoint pen and legal pad. He gives them to John who immediately begins to transcribe the instructions he was given from memory.

  While Deforrest is writing, Mickey walks behind him and gives a thumbs-up to whoever else is on the other side of the one-way mirror. He steps back and watches John work on the list.

  When John finishes, he puts the pen down and says to Mickey, “There! Now let’s go get my dad back from those bastards.”

  “We will, John. First, we got to identify just who snatched him. My money is on your Professor Collins and his lowlife associates.”

  Mickey watches John for his reaction. What he sees in John’s face is shock and fear. The kid didn’t have a clue. The silence is broken when the door to the interview room suddenly swings open again. This time it’s Kevin who comes limping through the door.

  “Well, Mickey. Bet you didn’t think you’d see me here. Did ya, partner?”

  CHAPTER 36

  “A sharp hound knows his fault.”

  Irish Proverb

  Mickey greets Kevin O’Clooney warmly. “You’re right. I never expected to see you. Thought the doctor told you to go home and rest up.”

  “That he did. But when Sergeant McNesby called and said you were questioning Deforrest, I got Matt to take the long way home.”

  Kevin asks Sergeant McNesby to escort John Deforrest to a nicer area and get him something to drink. And he instructs the sergeant to put Deforrest under police protection until further notice. As Deforrest walks by Mickey, he thanks him and tells him he and the superintendent are going to do everything they can to get his father back safe and sound. McNesby walks him to the employee coffee room down the hall.

  “The kid looks out of it, Mick.”

  “He’s had a long afternoon.”

  “So I heard.”

  “I don’t know, Kev. Every time I think I’ve got something solid, something else pops up and blows that lead out of the water. Water! That reminds me. Sailboats. Fishing boats and marinas are the new leads this time. Check out this list Deforrest wrote down. Said he got the original in an anonymous letter.”

  Kevin visibly still a little woozy from his ordeal sits down at the table and begins to read aloud what Deforrest just wrote down.

  If anyone asks about Professor Collins, tell them he’s on a boating holiday, and he won’t return until next week.

  21-5-96, purchase two one-way plane tickets under your name for Friday the 24th of May, for flight 342, nonstop Dublin to Greece, departing @ 11:25 PM. Use your credit card.

  22-5-96, call the Harbormaster at the Howth Marina. Book sailboat #31 for 24-5-96 from noon to midnight. Use your credit card.

  23-5-96, go to Thrifty car rental on Temple Bar Square. Rent a midsize American-made car for a week. Tell them one driver, no extra insurance. Use your credit card.

  23-5-96, drive to Dalkey. Take Castle Road to the bottom of the hill. Charter a thirty-foot fishing boat for 24-5 to 26-5. Use your credit card. Drive to the Dalkey DART station and leave the car in the public parking lot. Walk to the NOSH Café on Coliemore Road and drop the car keys in the mailbox across the street. Take the DART back to Dublin.

  Your father will contact you late on Saturday. He’ll tell you where you can pick him up.

  Memorize these instructions, then destroy this letter.

  When finished reading Deforrest’s notes, Kevin begins throwing out possible scenarios.

  “What if your Greek, I take it you still like him for all this stuff, plans to use one or both of the boats to escape after he carries out his Merrion Square caper. Or all the Merrion Square mumbo jumbo was just bullshit to provide cover for something he’s doing at sea. Or…”

  “From the beginning, starting with Jerry Drum’s murder, I’ve always pegged the Greek as involved somehow. It started with finding his notepad at the scene. Nothing has really changed. But I’m starting to feel time has run out on us. It’s like a riddle wrapped in a mystery. My gut is still telling me all of this has to do with the president’s visit. And it fits with Odysseus’ last letter to Michelle Cunay, my go-to editor in Philly. He ranted about upping the pay grade of his next target.”

  “Did your Secret Service contact shed any light on the situation, Mick?”

  “He can’t really say much. When the Philly PD gave him the stuff found at Drum’s house, he wasn’t exactly jumping out of his seat. I was a little surprised. I’ve seen the Feds reschedule or even terminate a presidential visit over less than what Drum was doing.”

  “But you gave him even more particulars since you’ve been in Ireland, right?”

  “I did. He took what I gave him and that’s the last I heard. I did tell him I intended to be in Merrion Square on Saturday to hear the president.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Go Phillies. It’s an inside ha-ha. Ya know those SS guys. Just his way of saying, ‘I hear what you’re saying, but I’m not going to comment.’”

  “I guess. So let’s go over this thing again. As far as we know, the president is still scheduled to arrive sometime tonight at Dublin Airport. Then after a speech in Merrion Square he leaves Saturday afternoon.”

  “As far as we know, yes. Leaving here and going somewhere in Europe. More speeches! And don’t forget we’re not the only ones with that information. Collins told his students about Merrion. God knows who else they told.”

  “Mick! Wasn’t it Collins who said his spies told him about the president?”

  “Riiight! He did. So who are these spies? Kev! You’re not thinking someone in the US Secret Service is feeding the bad guys intel, are you?”

  “I’m mulling over it. It would explain a couple of things. Wouldn’t it, Mick? Think about it.”

  Mick takes a minute. Looks at the Deforrest list again a couple of times. And goes through Deforrest’s backpack a little closer. Nothing!

  “If Collins—what am I saying? If Odysseus has pals inside the Fed, which is how I always figured he walked out of lockup in ‘91, then it wouldn’t be too far off the mark to think he still has those pals. It may also explain why the Secret Service would resist cancelling the president’s flight plans. Greg Miller gave me a co
uple of lame excuses for why he wasn’t too concerned about the info I passed on to him. You guys haven’t been given any indication the president isn’t coming, have you?”

  “Negative. We’re still on full alert. In fact, Merrion Square has already been closed and the bomb unit is on location. And about an hour ago, I was informed the president’s advance team in two C-141s, is on their way. So we’re still a go.”

  “Something just doesn’t add up, Kev. We got word puzzles. Someone blows up a barn but doesn’t destroy incriminating evidence on their plans for some kind of action against the US president, the First Lady, and the Liberty Bell. Why not destroy the whole barn? Plans and all? Then there’s Drum’s murder, red circles everywhere we look, an imposter shows up at the Philly ME’s office and at the Drum ranch. And let’s not forget those dead ones in a dirt-filled swimming pool, and the remnants of C-4 all over the place. Who knows what other surprises are still waiting for us.”

  “Why do ya think so much stuff is thrown out there?”

  “Because, like we thought the other day, it’s a ruse. And the whole word puzzle BS was just that, BS. Kev, before I forget. You may want to get a blood specimen from young Deforrest. It may save some time with the identifications. I believe one of the bodies your guys are gonna find at the Drum ranch is the kid’s father.”

  “I hope not.”

  “Me too! So then what are we left with? Either there are no real plans to whack the president or anybody else. Or somebody is getting their jollies off by having the coppers chase their tails. Or is it what’s behind door number three?”

  “Door number three? You mean like the TV game show, Mick?”

  “Let’s Make a Deal.”

  “That’s it. Then I take it you believe the key to door number three is that list in your hand. The Deforrest list of instructions.”

  “What else is there? Somebody kidnapped the kid’s dad and is threatening to kill him unless he does A, B, and C. I was looking at a map of Ireland’s coastline. I was particularly drawn to the Howth and Dalkey areas.”

  “Go on!”

  “We gotta figure out why anybody would want to have two boats ‘ready’ at opposite ends of Dublin Bay.”