“Yes, I believe they’re both fast learners,” Sharkey said. “Sarai is very intelligent. I suspect her brother is as well.”
“Are they close,” Charlie said, his eyes still on the kitchen door.
“Yes, he is her big brother,” Sharkey said. “Very protective.”
Perhaps I had misinterpreted Sarai’s reactions after all.
“Your impression?” Sharkey continued. “Do you think he will keep her safe from Aileen and Shannon One and Two for a couple days while I’m away?”
Charlie chuckled. “Give him our phone numbers. In case he needs help and doesn’t know how to deal with two inebriated Irishmen . . . and a very angry Irish woman.”
“And give Sarai our numbers as well,” I added, in case she needed a sanctuary while her brother was here.
Chapter 8
Sharkey was gone for three days. Charlie took the letters to the lab during that time.
“Did they find anything?” I asked.
“Nothing that will help. Not a single fingerprint in the lot.”
“But you’re still taking them seriously then, are you?”
“Damned right I am. Look at this most recent one. It doesn’t have any indication that it would be from a jealous spouse or ex-girlfriend.”
He held the letter up for us to read. “Watch out, you bastard. You destroy someone’s life, you pay.”
“It has been a month since that last one,” I pointed out.
“All the more reason for caution. Whoever this is may very well want to catch him off guard.”
“Then why the warning in the first place?” I asked.
“I’ve wondered that myself. Most likely to prolong the torment of fear.”
“It doesn’t seem to be working. Eddie is acting as if he is not the least bit concerned.”
“The man covers well.”
“Indeed he does. What I do not understand is why someone who wishes to retaliate would not go after his money as well. Unless that is what they meant by, ‘You pay.’”
“A good question, unless it is for pure revenge.”
“But surely they would take advantage of his wealth.”
Charlie nodded. “That may be their intention, to go after his money as well as him.”
“Unless they don’t need the money.”
“A possibility.”
“Or perhaps they’re bluffing. And their goal is simply to frighten him.”
“Also possible.”
“Have you done some checking into Eddie’s background?” I asked.
“I am about to do just that.”
“Let me know what you find. I’ve some of my own work to catch up on. Quite a bit actually.”
More and more I was leaving the surveillance of Andy Currie up to Charlie’s men. Now that he’d met me it was more difficult to remain invisible. And it had become boring—work, lunch with co-workers or occasionally with his brother-in-law’s wife, often including Declan, long periods at the health club. I was beginning to agree with Maureen’s hopeful assessment. He was quite simply a flirt and at times, he could be an insensitive jerk. But nothing nefarious appeared to be going on. What did surprise me, however, was the fact that even knowing Aileen was out of her father’s life, or at least out of his house, Maureen had not yet called off the surveillance of her husband.
Of course, we had continued to keep at least a part-time eye on Aileen, but that was for a completely different purpose—to protect Sarai. And Maureen had no knowledge of that.
Over the course of those three days, despite Mok’s being with Sarai, I did keep an eye out for a certain Mercedes or a beater Chevy bearing a couple of blitzed Northern Irishmen. Charlie was doing the same, checking the surveillance camera tape daily.
I was also concerned that Maureen or Declan, or even Moira might show up to the house and although I did not think they would cause too much of a stir, I knew they would make Sarai uncomfortable. She seemed sensitive to propriety and status and I knew she felt that she was, for some misguided or cultural reason, beneath Sharkey. It would take only slight pressure applied to the right point, for any of them to send her running.
I honestly did not believe that she was in any way after his money. After growing up in poverty, she seemed of a modest nature, someone who would appreciate even the simplest luxuries of having a bed to sleep in at night and food at her disposal for every meal. The attraction between the two of them did seem to be an earnest one. I could understand that attraction. She was different from the other women in Sharkey’s life. She was a kind, giving soul who would love completely. Having spent relatively little time with her, I wasn’t certain how I knew that. I suppose it was the look in her eyes, particularly when they were focused on Sharkey.
As for the Irishman who had spent as many of his years in Scotland, he was completely infatuated. While lust might account for some of it, I actually believed he was attracted to her gentle spirit and her quiet strength. She had to be strong in order to have survived her childhood and youth and whatever else Sharkey had implied she had experienced. But she had not been hardened by the traumas and deprivation. There was still a vulnerability that made a man want to take care of her and protect her. I did believe that he loved her. I also believed that there was hope for this relationship.
* * *
Sharkey called Charlie upon his arrival home. We both went to check in with him.
“I did not notice you arrive home,” Charlie admitted.
“Ah, no, I was reduced to taking a taxi. Car trouble. But I’ve good news.”
“It was a good trip then?” Charlie asked.
“Aye, excellent. I’ll be starting a new job in a couple weeks. It will mean a lot of back and forth journeys to Montreal but well worth it.”
“I assume that means it’s challenging your creativity,” I said.
“That it is. That it is,” he said, sipping the cup of tea Sarai had just handed him. Their eyes met and all of us could perceive the fear in hers. She could not travel with him, not until her status in this country had been established. “It will be okay,” he assured her. “I will only be gone for a few days at a time.”
She nodded and swallowed hard before smiling. “Do not concern with me, Eddie. I am do okay here.”
But clearly she was not okay. Her eyes were watering. Was it fear of the Sharkey entourage or fear of his leaving and not returning or at least not to her?
“Charlie and I are only a few doors down, Sarai. You call us anytime you need to.” We each handed her our business card which she swiftly secured in the pocket of her cotton slacks.
“Thank you, Mr. Malcolm. Thank you, Mr. Charlie.”
“Aye, and if you need company, we will be here,” Charlie said.
“That is much kind of you.” She stared down at the table as if it had some unsightly scar. “I fine.”
“But if you feel you need support, we are here,” I said. “Or if you feel uncomfortable alone here, after Mok leaves, we both have guest rooms that you’re welcome to use.”
Sharkey smiled up at me. “I knew I liked you both the moment we met.” He turned to Sarai and reached for her hand. “You see, darilin’, you needn’t worry. You do have friends here.”
She nodded as she backed away from the table and went to the kitchen.
Charlie quickly brought up the subject at the forefront of his mind. “I took the two most recent letters to the lab.”
Sharkey cringed noticeably. It was obviously not a subject he wanted to discuss. “And, you found nothing, right?”
“Well, whoever wrote them was careful not to leave fingerprints or any form of DNA.”
“You see, it was a waste of time.”
Charlie shook his head. “Not quite. The fact that whoever wrote them used gloves and was that cautious, does give them something in common.”
“What? That they were written by people intelligent enough to not leave evidence behind?”
Charlie ignored him. “I’m not so worried abou
t the earlier ones. It’s the two recent ones that have me concerned. And just because the writing is different and the paper is different, does not mean that they weren’t written by the same person.”
“So, what do you want me to do? Get a body guard?”
“Not a bad idea,” Charlie said.
Sharkey set down his cup of tea and looked Charlie in the eye. “I know you’re only looking out for my wellbeing, but I really can take care of myself.” He chuckled. “If I can survive all these angry women, I can survive a silly threat letter. If they were serious, don’t you think they’d have acted on their threat by now? Don’t you think they’d be going after my money as well as me?”
“We don’t know that they aren’t . . . and won’t. And it may be sheer anger that provoked them.”
“Nor do we know that they are at all serious. It could simply be an idle threat from an angry woman. Or a jealous husband.
Stubborn Irishman.
“While the earlier letters did mention bodily harm and lusting, the last two letters made no mention of anything that would indicate jealousy,” Charlie clarified.
“Ach, I’m certain they did. They said they were coming for me for what I’d done.”
“Not quite. They said you’ll pay for destroying their life. If the only thing you’ve ever done is to flirt with a woman or dump one, then you’ve a wee bit less to worry about.”
Sharkey sighed heavily and poured himself some more tea as if that would give him the necessary courage to continue with this conversation. “Obviously you’ve found some things out that do not have anything to do with angry women or jealous husbands.”
This was new to me. Obviously I’d been too busy catching up on my own work to stay up to date with Charlie’s discoveries.
Charlie’s silence was filled with Sharkey’s explanation. “You found out about one of my buildings collapsing and injuring two people.”
“I did.”
“Well, then, if you went back that far, surely you must have also seen the explanation for it. I was sabotaged.”
“Aye, I saw that.”
“By a competitor.”
“Aye, a competitor who was arrested as a consequence and received a jail sentence of twelve years because of the two men who were seriously injured.”
“So, there you have it. Nothing more to discuss.”
“Except for one minor detail,” Charlie said. “Your man, James Webb, got out on good behavior. He was released from prison two months ago.”
Sharkey’s complexion paled as he set down the tea cup that was unsteady in his hand. “Was he now?” The shakiness of his voice betrayed his casual tone. “Well, he certainly wouldn’t be stupid enough to come after me, not unless he wants to spend a great deal more time in jail.”
“Unless he emerged from that facility even angrier than he was prior to his sentence.”
“I’m not worried,” Sharkey said, having regained some of his composure. The hell he wasn’t, I thought.
“Well, maybe you should be,” Charlie said.
Sharkey winced. Then he released a sigh that clearly confirmed his level of distress.
Charlie stared at him, apparently seeing more than I was at the moment. “Exactly what kind of car trouble was it that required you to take a taxi, laddie?”
Sharkey shook his head in dismissal, but Charlie was dogging him as I’d seen him do many times.
“If you must know, the brakes failed.”
“The brakes failed and you did not tell us this, why?”
“Because I didn’t want you making a fuss. As you obviously are prone to do.”
Charlie groaned. “How bad was it?”
“Not bad at all. I was in a level location in the parking lot. There was no danger of my reaching the ramp and going on a downhill roller coaster ride. No danger of my being killed. Only of my hitting a post or another car.”
“Which did you hit?” I asked.
“Another car. Fortunately no one was in it.”
Charlie was pacing at this point, shaking his head between pauses. When he finally turned around to face Sharkey, his expression was like that of a father who was telling his son he was not going to put up with anymore bullshit. Despite our friend’s reluctance to do so, it appeared that we should have taken the incident of the slashed tires more seriously.
Sharkey’s deep sigh of resolution was followed by, “Okay, Charlie, I’ll consider hiring a bodyguard. Or maybe hiring you to run surveillance on James Webb.”
“Or both,” Charlie said.
“I’ll let you know,” Sharkey said firmly. “Until then, hold off.” His hand came up in a gesture to stop the conversation just as Sarai returned with a tray of scones from the local bakery and I realized that his avoidance of the subject and his reluctance to allow Charlie to investigate further was at least in part geared toward keeping Sarai from worrying. A noble gesture perhaps but a lot of good it would do if something happened to him.
But as he had insisted, we discontinued the conversation to enjoy our scones. Mok had joined us by then as well. He seemed to be in a cheerful mood.
Charlie noticed too. “You’re enjoying your stay here, I see.”
“Yes. Very much I am.”
“How much longer do you have here?” I asked.
“No many days. I go California quick, then return here meet ship.”
“Will it dock in Seattle?” Charlie asked.
“It stay out far. Water taxi from Island Vashon.”
“Ah, Vashon Island,” I said, pointing toward it.
“This is it.”
“Well, we’ll have to make a trip up to Tara island before you leave,” Sharkey said.
“Tara island?”
“In the San Juans.”
“Is nice?”
“It’s beautiful.” The smile on Sharkey’s face seemed to dissolve all evidence of the tension the earlier conversation had placed there. Tara Island must indeed be a special place.
“Much people live on island?”
Sharkey smiled. “Not many. I own it.”
Mok’s eyes grew large. “You own island?”
“A very small island, but yes, I own it.”
Again his eyes opened wide. This was information he could not easily assimilate. “You have house on island?”
“Aye, a very nice house. There’s no electricity but I have generators set up.”
“You go much to island?”
“Not often enough. I’ve even had a soccer field put in there.”
“Soccer field?” If it was possible for Mok’s eyes to grow bigger, they did then. “On island?”
“It’s not regulation size, mind you, but large enough to enjoy when I have soccer friends along.” He eyed Charlie and me conspiratorially.
“You play the soccer too? Sarai say Eddie play.”
“We do,” Charlie said. “I take it you do as well.”
“Is game I love much. Friends on ship all to play too.”
“How about the five of us making a trip to the island? We could leave on Sunday after our next soccer game,” Sharkey suggested. “Then you won’t think I’ve reneged on my invitation to take you on the Innisfree excursion to world famous Tara Island.”
“I’m afraid I can’t,” I said. “I’ve a lecture to give at the University on Monday and a presentation to several visiting professors, not something I can cancel, I’m afraid.”
“Sadly I must decline as well,” Charlie said. “I’m trying to wrap up a case I’m working on. Stubborn one it is.”
“Well then, mark your calendars for the Waterloo game weekend. We’ll take a few extra days and go over to Tara. How would that be?”
“Excellent,” I said.
“As long as the fishing poles are aboard,” Charlie said.
“Always,” Sharkey responded. “Sounds like a plan then. I will make good on my promise to take you to Tara after all. I would not want you to think I was not a man of my word.”
* * *
Other than at the soccer game, we did not see Sharkey before he left for his island. I had seen the Innisfree set off on the Sunday morning and assumed Sharkey had taken Sarai and Mok to Tara Island before Mok had to leave. A pang of envy struck me. I would have liked to be on the boat with them, fishing, feeling the soothing rhythm of the waves, and stopping off on Anamcara to convince Jenny to join us.
“You’re antsy,” Charlie said as I tried to settle in for a wee chat and a glass of port that he had poured.
“I suppose. Tell me, Charlie, do you think Eddie will marry Sarai?”
“I suppose it’s possible. Unlikely but not impossible.”
“And you, Charlie, do you think you shall ever marry again?”
He groaned. It was not a subject he warmed to. “I do not know the answer to that, laddie.” After a moment of reflection, he sighed and said, “Relationships, they should not be so difficult.”
“You are thinking of your ex-wives.”
“Oh, aye, Natalie really, Jenny’s mum. Not an easy woman.”
“Something must have attracted you to her.”
“She was a beauty.” His smile quickly turned to a frown. “But, once we married, I realized she was very different from the woman I had courted. I did not know how unhappy a person she really was.”
“You? With your intuition?”
“It wasnae as good back then.” Charlie’s thickening brogue reflected how distressed he was by the subject of our conversation.
“Do you regret having married her?”
“Och, no. I cannae say that. I would not have my lovely children then.”
“You’re closest to Jenny.”
It was not a question, but he answered anyway. “Aye, she and I are best of friends. We understand each other. I don’t believe we’ve ever had a cross word between us.”
“Even when she was a teenager?”
Charlie shook his head and took a wee sip of his port.
“Or when you married the second time?”
“Och, no. Jenny and Catherine, although as different as cricket and rugby, were always close, and kind to each other.”
“And your other bairns?”
“Charlotte, my eldest, as you know is close to her mum which means she thinks I’m a daft twit and not worthy of her high and mighty company.” He took a larger sip of the port and poured himself a second glass. “Cameron and I are close but I do not see him as often as I would like.”
Saving Sharkey Page 10