Last Orders (The Dublin Trilogy Book 4)

by Caimh McDonnell

  Bunny poked the ashes of the makeshift fire with the last piece of wood before sticking it on. The smoke was thick but the natural air current carried it up the tunnel and out into the night. Everything had been cleared out, leaving the bunker more like the cavern it would have originally been. The steel doors were gone, as were all the furnishings, bar the milk crate he was currently sitting on. Ragged scraps of carpeting were the only sign that it had ever been any more than a cave.

  The fire had maybe another hour in it, at best, then he’d be cold and alone. The only piece of wood he had left was the hurley, but he’d rather die than burn that. That would be sacrilege. There was a dodgy torch he’d found in the back of Jesus Malone’s loaner car, but it needed a hard wallop on the side to do anything. He kept it off for the moment, trying to conserve the batteries.

  It had taken him quite a while to find the place, isolated as it was. He had headed for the town of Bandon and then eventually found it after a few false starts. It would’ve been reasonably straightforward in the daytime, but at night, with snow falling, it had been quite a challenge. As he’d driven, he’d passed houses covered in Christmas lights, with smoking chimneys. He’d caught the occasional glimpse through a front window of another kind of life. He felt like a ghost, passing through a world he’d only vaguely known.

  Eventually, he’d nearly hit a sign covered in snow that was actually advertising The Rock. Someone had tried to turn it into a tourist attraction. The official pitch had been that you could come and see an honest-to-God nuclear bunker, built by a loony old farmer in the sixties who thought the Russians were coming to Sligo. That’s what they pretended, but the poorly disguised real pitch had been, “Come see the dungeon under an ordinary-looking farmhouse where the monster Fiachra Fallon was kept for thirty years.” He had read about it in the papers last year. It had opened to the public and closed three weeks later. Whatever people’s morbid fascination with murder, there hadn’t actually been that much to see. Apparently, the TripAdvisor reviews had been scathing.

  Since then, it had seemingly lain empty, although the scrawls on the walls indicated the local youth occasionally hung out there. From what he could see as the flames flickered against the stone, the place was now an impromptu monument to the fact that country kids really couldn’t do graffiti properly. The house above it stood more or less intact but empty. Nobody wanted to live somewhere that so much evil had occurred. Bunny had taken a quick look inside but then rejected it. He needed somewhere with one way in and one way out. He needed what lay beneath.

  The shed that had stood outside the bunker’s entrance was gone, as indeed was the actual entrance. The big steel door had been ripped out, presumably sold for scrap. Whatever was about to happen tonight, if the bombs started dropping, Bunny would not survive it.

  He blew into his hands and pulled his sheepskin coat tighter around him. He may be alone but he wasn’t lonely. He had ghosts for company.

  Zayas: “So this is it, Detective? This is where you come to die? Where you have chosen to come and face the shadows that have been stalking you?”

  Gringo: “Amigo, are you sure this is the best way to be spending the Crimbo? While I appreciate your sense of style, are you positive the Butch and Sundance ending is how you want to go?”

  He ignored them. He wasn’t in a talkative mood. Instead, he took the note that he kept in the back of his wallet out and read it again.

  He had read it countless times before, but it felt very different now. Now he knew that Rigger O’Rourke had been standing over Simone, telling her she had no choice. That she had to leave to save him. All those long nights spent wondering if he had been a damn fool to think the relationship had been more than it was. Now he knew that he had been a lot of things, but he hadn’t been wrong.

  Across the fire, Simone sat looking back at him.

  “I know what you’re thinking. Not very Christmassy? The trick is not to think of it as a bunker. Think of it as a stable and it becomes a lot more festive.” Bunny looked into the flames and watched them dance. “Maybe I’m right, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe there aren’t shadows chasing me, trying to get to you. Maybe it is all just my mind running away on me. Either way, something is coming, whether I like it or not.” Bunny hesitated. “Maybe if you could speak you’d tell me it’s never too late.”

  He looked up as he heard a sound coming from the tunnel to his right and noticed the beam of a torch bouncing against the walls.

  “But I think it might be.”

  Brigit prided herself on being a very practical woman. She’d been a nurse, for God’s sake. You can’t have ideas above your station when you regularly have to change bedpans. She’d also grown up on a farm, so she had never been the fairy princess type.

  Still, that night, she had made an effort and worn heels. She’d been on a date, after all. Yes, it had been with a man she had known was lying to her, and whom she had been intending to drug – in order to exact a suitable vengeance on the despicable little shite – but still, a date was a date and she had wanted to look nice. Admittedly, she had regretted wearing heels when she had been dragging the unconscious Anto Kelleher into and out of her car, but you couldn’t plan for every eventuality. Given the complexity of the plan – which they had executed to near-perfection – her inappropriate footwear had been a minor quibble.

  Then, she and Paul had “made up their differences” – twice, in fact! Once in a hot tub. After that, she had got into the car to drive home. Then the phone call from Nora Stokes had rather blown what had been a previously excellent evening all to hell. Bandon, as it happened, had only been an hour out of her way. She had debated several other courses of action, but nothing else made sense. Bunny had saved her before; she owed it to him to try and save him, even if it was from himself.

  What he had told Nora perhaps gave some context to how he had been acting. She didn’t know what to think, but she knew she had to do something. So here she was, walking down a tunnel in inappropriate footwear. The last time she had been here, she had been with Paul and Bunny, and there had been a monster at the other end. That time, she had at least been wearing sensible shoes. This time, she had the torch from her car in one hand and a tyre iron in the other, because she was a practical woman.

  As she approached the bottom of the tunnel, she could see flames flickering dimly against the far wall.

  The shoes, impractical though they were, turned out to be a godsend. As she reached the bottom of the tunnel, she slipped and lost her balance. So she was already falling when a madman with a hurley wheeled around the corner, in a practised motion designed to take somebody’s head off. The beast roared as the stick clattered into the rock wall above her head.

  The torch in Brigit’s hand shone upwards, into the demented visage of Bunny McGarry.

  “Fucking hell!”

  He looked down in confusion. “Conroy? What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

  “Thankfully falling on my arse, otherwise you’d have decapitated me, ye mad old bastard.”

  He reached a hand down to help her up. “Jesus, girl, you shouldn’t be here.”

  With Bunny’s assistance, Brigit was able to ungraciously get her wounded pride and bruised arse back on her impractically-shoed feet. “I shouldn’t be here? Neither should you. For Christ’s sake, Bunny, what the hell are you thinking?”

  She glanced behind him and saw the small campfire in the centre of the room.

  “I’m…” He glanced up the tunnel behind her. “It’s complicated. How did you even know I was here?”

  “You told Nora where you were heading. She said you made a big deal out of it.”

  Bunny whacked the hurley off the wall in frustration. “Of course I did. I was doing it so they would hear.”

  “What? Who?”

  “The people who’ve been following me for the last few days, since those bodies were discovered. They bugged our offices.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake! Bugged? Did you get that off Phil?”


  “Paulie told me.”

  “Jesus, Phil Nellis – the man who still believes the moon landings were faked and filmed on the Arran Islands – thinks our offices are bugged. Even if him and the dodgy bit of kit Paul bought off the Internet are right, it’ll have been the Kelleher brothers.”

  Bunny shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  Brigit tried to soften her tone. She’d come here to reason with a man who was clearly losing his mind. The shock of nearly losing her head had made her forget that. “Look, Bunny, I know you’re worried. You’re involved with those bodies, but I’m sure you had your reasons. We can explain it. Work something out.”

  Bunny shook his head. “It’s too late for that, and it’s not the Gardaí I’m worried about.”

  “The people? The ones following you?”

  He nodded.

  “Bunny, there’s nobody following you.”

  “Think about it. They had that picture of me and Simone. Gringo had given it to the fella at the US Embassy. That’s how Zayas found Simone in the first place. So, when his body showed up, they must’ve thought that I know where she is. I got a lad I know to stick Zayas on a ferry manifest at the time, throw them off the scent. Over the years, I’ve been suspicious that somebody might have come looking, but nothing like now.”

  In the half-light of the beam of her torch, she looked at Bunny’s face. He couldn’t look directly at her. His breath was coming in pants; his cheeks were flushed.

  She rubbed her hand along his arm. “You need to calm down. None of this is making any sense.”

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “Seriously, Conroy, you need to get out of here, right feckin’ now. They’re coming. This is where I make my stand.”

  “With what? A hurley?”

  “Well, that. And this…” Bunny pulled what looked to Brigit a lot like a small toy gun out of his pocket. “To be honest, I should’ve got myself a proper gun. I wasn’t really thinking straight. I don’t suppose you’ve got one?”

  “No.”

  “Well, no harm in asking. Now, you need to get out of here.”

  “I’ll leave if you come with me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Then I’m staying.”

  Bunny turned around and paced back into the cave. He tossed the hurley on the ground and ran his fingers through his hair. “Jesus, Conroy, it’s not what you think.”

  “Bunny, it’s nearly 3 am on Christmas morning, nobody is coming. Listen to yourself, would you? I’ve just been outside. There’s nobody around for miles.”

  He stared down at the fire.

  “I’m telling you, they’re coming.”

  Brigit moved across and stood behind him. When she spoke, it was as softly and calmly as she could. “Look, how’s about you come home to Leitrim with me, hey? We’ve got a nice spare room. You can get a good night’s sleep and a good meal inside you and things will look a lot different.” She reached forward and put his hand in hers. She could feel it trembling in her grasp. “Come on, let’s get out of here. I’m doing my goose-fat roast potatoes for dinner, they’ll blow your mind.”

  He stood there looking into the flames for what felt like a very long time, before finally nodding.

  They made their way back up the tunnel, still hand in hand. Brigit’s powerful torch lighting the way. Damn it! She’d left her tyre iron at the bottom of the tunnel. She couldn’t go back; she needed to get Bunny into her car and out of here as fast as possible. In the back of her mind, the thought that perhaps she should take him straight to a hospital kept poking at her conscience, but she couldn’t do it. At least not yet. She’d see how he was after a night’s sleep.

  They reached the mouth of the cave. Bunny pulled her back.

  “Wait. Hang on.”

  “Come on, Bunny, it’ll be OK. Let’s just get to the car.”

  Brigit stepped out into the night. The snow was falling thick and fast and she could see her breath. She started to walk back up the slope that led to the deserted farmhouse, where their cars were parked. They’d have to leave Bunny’s here; he was clearly in no state to drive. She kept the torch’s beam on the ground in front of them, so they could see where they were going.

  A sound to her right drew her attention and on instinct she turned the light towards it. She was just quick enough to catch sight of a figure diving behind a rock.

  Then several things happened at once.

  Someone shouted, ‘Freeze!’

  Bunny heaved her back by the arm, sending her spinning back towards the entrance of the cave. She lost her footing and slammed into the wall.

  Bunny hit the ground in front of her as she heard a deadened thunk.

  Then something sparked and pinged on the rock beside her and ricocheted down the tunnel. Bunny rolled back into the tunnel behind her, taking her feet from under her and sending them both tumbling into a heap on the ground as something else whistled past above their heads.

  Brigit lost her grip on her torch. It landed on the ground with a clunk, its beam shining out into the night.

  Bunny regained his footing and dragged her back down the tunnel into the darkness.

  Brigit tasted something on her lip. Blood. Somewhere in all of that she must have bitten it.

  “What the fuck? I mean, what the actual fuck? People are shooting at us?!”

  “Well,” said Bunny, “the good news is, I’m not fecking mental!”

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  “I do not believe this!”

  Brigit was pacing up and down in the cavern, the light from the fire throwing her shadow up against the wall. “I mean seriously, I don’t believe this.”

  Bunny was sitting down on the milk crate beside the fire again. In front of him he had laid out his hurley, a box of matches, his small antique gun, a half bottle of whiskey, a pair of handcuffs, Brigit’s tyre iron and both of their torches.

  “Why are you so calm?”

  Bunny said nothing.

  “Bunny!”

  He looked up.

  “I said, why are you so calm? People are trying to kill us!”

  Bunny shrugged. “Well, to be fair, I think they’re mainly trying to kill me. You’re an unfortunate bystander in all of this.”

  “Oh great, I’m your plus one. That makes me feel so much better.”

  “And to be honest, when the choices are you’re completely losing your fecking mind or that people really are following you, it’s kind of a relief to know it’s the latter. That gives me someone to fight – more in my field of expertise.”

  Brigit looked down at the pathetic collection in front of Bunny. “You’re going to fight? With this lot? Against armed attackers?”

  “I didn’t say I thought I’d win.”

  Brigit pointed at the gun. “Is that an actual gun?”

  “Oh, God yeah. It’s a derringer. It only has one shot, mind, at best.”

  “At best? You don’t know if it even works?”

  “Well, it worked once before. Kind of got us into this whole mess.”

  Brigit threw her hands up. “Brilliant. This gets better and better. How many of them are there?”

  Bunny scratched at his beard. “I’m not sure. At least one woman, a tall guy, a shorter lad. I’d say three minimum. Could be more.”

  “Against just us two?”

  Bunny gave her a look that Brigit couldn’t read. “Don’t worry about it.”

  Brigit looked around again. “Why of all places did you come here? We almost died here once before!”

  Bunny pulled his shirt out from under his jumper and started ripping strips off the end of it.

  “I needed somewhere isolated with only one way in. If you’re outnumbered, you don’t want to give them a way of sneaking up on you.”

  Brigit clicked her fingers excitedly. “But no, hang on, there’s the other way out, in the roof of the store room. Remember, whatshisname, the little rat-like fella, he escaped up through it.”

  “Sorry to be the
bearer of bad news, but the ladder is gone. Somebody ripped it out. There’s no way up there now. First thing I checked.”

  Brigit slapped the stone wall in consternation. “What kind of a monumental prick takes the ladder out of a nuclear bunker?”

  Bunny shrugged his shoulders and opened the bottle of whiskey. He took a deep slug from it and held it out towards Brigit.

  “No, thanks, I’m driving.”

  “I’ve always admired your sense of civic responsibility.”

  Bunny doused some of the strips from his shirt in the whiskey and shoved them into the top of the bottle. “Do you have any idea how well whiskey burns?”

  “Ehm, I dunno. It usually takes me a few goes to get it going on a Christmas pudding, but I’ve never used it as a Molotov cocktail.”

  Bunny looked at the bottle and shrugged. “Well, we’ll soon find out, I suppose.”

  Brigit held her mobile in her hand. “No signal, of course. This is all feeling eerily familiar.”

  “Well look on the bright side, Conroy, last time we were locked in here. This time, there’s no doors.”

  “Which means they can come in.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “Do you think they’re coming in?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet. They don’t know we aren’t armed yet, so we’ve got that going for us. I mean, they will be coming in, but at a guess, they might try and smoke us out first or something like that. That’s what I’d do. Plus, they’ll be careful about not destroying the tape. Although maybe not. Maybe they just want to destroy it. Hard to know.”

  “What tape?”

  “Oh yeah, they think I have a tape that I don’t have. That’s what they’ve come to get. Well, that, and they probably think I know where Simone is.”

  “Simone. Is that the woman I saw in the picture beside your bed?”

  Bunny looked offended. “When were you in my bedroom?”

  “Last year. Remember when you’d disappeared and I was the only one actually looking for you?”

  “Oh yeah. Thanks again for that. You’re a great girl.”

  “You’re welcome. I’ll say this for you: life is never boring with you around.”