First Death In Dublin City (Thomas Bishop Book 1) Read online

  ‘The same John Ryan who shot his wife last December?’ Tommy asked.

  ‘The very same, his trial is on in a month or two.’ Mousey said.

  Tommy nodded and left. The walk down from NBCI to the stock rooms took Tommy past a quiet canteen, a full bullpen and the raucous holding cells – the sound of a prison was like nothing Tommy had ever heard before, and like nothing he’d ever hear again.

  He made it to the stock room, which was right in the basement of the building, behind which a tubby officer was staring at Tommy walk up to him. He took Tommy’s ID and nodded at the NBCI designation. This was perhaps the only entertaining part of the officer’s job, because the NBCI was one of the only armed units in the entirety of the force. Ireland may pride itself on its unarmed police force, but as Tommy looked down on the stock lists, he couldn’t help but think that when it did arm its force, they really went in for overkill.

  He signed, and the tubby officer brought over a giant box, which he passed to Tommy under a metal grille. It landed at Tommy’s feet, and he kneeled downed and flicked it open. First he glanced over the Steyr SSG and the Heckler & Koch HK33; a NATO grade sniper and assault rifle which Tommy had yet to take from its packaging except for training exercises – in fact the only reasonable instance in which Tommy could envision himself using it was when the aliens landed.

  The rest of the weapons however, Tommy did assign himself from the stock, because though he had yet to use them (in fact he was distinctly uncomfortable with guns), Mousey seemed unhappy with unarmed Detectives running around the city. So, he in fact checked his Benellie M3, a shotgun powerful enough to go straight through most walls, and his MP7, the machine gun used by the Navy SEALS. Each however, he placed back into the box. The only two he took out were both pistols: a SIG Sauer and a Walther P99. The P99 being a personal preference. As well as that, he took out two clips for each, and began to check the functioning of each.

  On the radio behind the officer’s grille RTE 1 was droning on with the same debate Tommy had been listening to since he himself had been a law student.

  ‘Today we’re asking, are Ireland’s sentencing laws too harsh?’

  Usually this debate arose when some notorious criminal was being released, and today was no different, with one of the Blackrock six being slated for release this coming Friday. To be fair, he has already gotten fifteen years. Which considering some of the scum Tommy met on some version of suspended sentence and left free to roam the streets was in fact fairly heavy.

  ‘Do you remember when that happened?’ The man behind the grille said.

  Tommy nodded his agreement, because he remembered it well. The nation had seethed when outside the Palace Nightclub on Campden Street on Leaving Cert Results night, six elitist boys from Blackrock College decided a regular kid was talking too loudly in the queue, so they grabbed him, dragged him into the middle of the road and beat him to death. After a highly public trial in which evidence was publicised which showed how vicious the beating in fact has, the country had rejoiced at the thoughts of the six boys rotting away life sentences in the ‘Joy.

  The Sig Sauer shook in Tommy’s hand as he lined up the sight to ensure all still worked.

  ‘They tell me you’re quite a shot?’ Said a female voice from behind Tommy’s shoulder.

  The lady who spoke placed an M7 onto the desk in front of her, and took one of the stock sheets next to her.

  Tommy shrugged.

  ‘Best in the country I had heard?’ The girl said.

  ‘Anne?’ Tommy asked.

  ‘Tommy?’ She said, and she extended her hand; Tommy shook – her palm was drenched in sweat. Good, a partner as uncomfortable with heavy weaponry as I am.

  ‘You know you’re meant to take off your bulletproof vest before coming down to the stockroom.’ Tommy said.

  ‘I know, but Mousey told me you were down here.’ Said Anne.

  Tommy looked at his future partner.

  ‘You know, I expected someone considerably..’ He said.

  ‘Older?’ Suggested Anne.

  ‘Yeah, to be honest. Aren’t you very young to be in this unit?’ Tommy asked.

  ‘I thought you were a hotshot too? Still are, who becomes a DI at thirty?’ Anne said.

  ‘Austerity.’ Tommy said, and Anne nodded, apparently accepting that, like Tommy, her rapid acceleration through the ranks had more to do with half the force taking early retirement than any intrinsic ability on their part.

  ‘Right well, what you working on at the moment?’ Tommy said.

  ‘Cases are sorted, kind of, it’s just the fucking paperwork.’ Anne said.

  ‘Right well, change and I’ll see you up in the office in fifteen; I’ll teach you a few tricks and we’ll get through it quicker.’ Tommy said.

  It turned out to be quite an optimistic statement, that they would be able to get through it quicker. This was Anne’s first ever quarterly report and, being her first, she hadn’t figured to do it bit by bit during the quarter itself, so leaving a whole heap of reports for the deadline. In fact it was a whole six hours, breaks included of course, before they were anywhere close to finished. During that time Tommy checked his messages, which was mostly routine calls, and five calls from Mountjoy with John Ryan seeking to give Tommy some information. Tommy considered calling the prison to see who was about and whether he could arrange a visit but it was then that Mousey called them into his office.

  ‘Sit for me there. I have your first case as a, a terrible duo as they say.’ He said.

  ‘Who’s dead?’ Tommy asked.

  ‘Nobody.’ Mousey said.

  ‘No body; no job for me. It’s in my contract.’ Tommy said.

  ‘No it’s not?’ Mousey said.

  ‘Well, it should be.’ Tommy said. Anne and he looked like a strange pair, he having put on a suit for his first day, she having removed her bulletproof vest and navy police top and replaced it with a pink Jack Willis hoodie.

  ‘You’re brand new, back, been out for weeks. I’m giving you a quiet case to start out.’ Mousey said.

  ‘You know I hate dealing with victims that are alive. You’re not selling this to me really?’ Tommy said.

  ‘Good thing my job doesn’t require me to entice my subordinate Inspectors. I believe they are required to do what I tell them? Am I wrong?’

  Tommy nodded.

  ‘The address is on Castlewood Avenue.’ Mousey said.

  ‘An eleven year old has been missing since noon today. You’ve to find her.’ Mousey said.

  ‘Ah now that’s just bollocks, she’s only been missing for five hours? Jesus that’s not even long enough to count as running away from home.’ Tommy said.

  ‘She had no reason to run away.’ Mousey said.

  ‘And by that you mean she wasn’t from a working class family?’ Tommy said.

  ‘I’m not asking.’ Mousey said.

  ‘Just how connected are her parents? Editor of the Irish Times? Minister for Finance?’ Tommy said.

  ‘Neither. When have I ever sent you a dud? I believe she’s been abducted.’ Mousey said.

  ‘Ah cmon, I get why you need to do this kind of shit, but you don’t need to send me to do it.’ Tommy said.

  ‘Get your ass to Rathmines.’ Mousey said, and he passed over a piece of paper on which all the details from the call were listed. ‘Give this a look over, tomorrow I’ll throw whatever murder arises first onto your lap, for now you’re on this.’

  ‘Why aren’t the locals on it?’ Tommy said.

  ‘Because you’re on it. Go!’ Mousey said.

  And Tommy and Anne leapt from their chairs and walked together back out of the squad room – sad indictment it was that Anne, who had been here for three months, got more smiles from their colleagues at NBCI than Tommy.

  ##

  On wet roads it took them nigh on sixty minutes to make it to Rathmines; it wasn’t yet five but the darkness was already falling on the student town. Castlewood Avenue ran against the main stre
et of town, just like its populace ran against the standard for this particular city. Each house looked the same, and Tommy began to wonder if he and Anne would have to get out and look at numbers, but then he spotted the blonde woman standing anxiously in her doorway.

  ‘See that?’ Tommy asked.

  ‘See what?’ Anne replied.

  ‘That house, there was a woman standing in the doorway. It would about be where the address should be, so that probably was the mother. Standing in the doorway anxious for the help to arrive – she’s going to be a nightmare to deal with.’ Tommy said.

  ‘Her kid’s missing?’ Anne asked.

  ‘Her kid ran away, you mean. Just you watch and see, she will have just had a big fight with one of the parents, then tomorrow or the day after she’ll return home from a friend’s house or some such place.’ Tommy said.

  ‘You think?’ Anne said.

  Tommy pulled a u-turn at the end of the road.

  ‘Definitely. Any particular way you want to run this?’ Anne said.

  ‘You’re the senior partner.’ Anne said.

  Tommy shrugged. He’d do the basics, but soon he’d pass all this on to Anne, and leave her with the case – an act for which there were three good reasons in doing so. Firstly, he didn’t need the pain in the ass that this blonde woman would surely become, secondly this case was in no way serious enough for his or any detective’s attention, so he wasn’t going to vindicate whomever had pulled in connections to get NBCI involved; thirdly, it actually may end up being good training for Anne.

  They pulled up in front of a red brick wall, and the woman at the door started and moved out into the rain. She hopefully attempted to catch their eyes through the car window, looking like a young Penelope waiting for the return of her husband – Tommy stared at the dashboard so as not to appear like a rabbit caught in a set of headlights.

  ‘Are you the Detectives?’ She asked upon their approach, her rolling accent reminding Tommy of the culture of rugby pitches and foods with Italian names.

  Anne looked to Tommy, who inclined his head into a nod.

  ‘Anne O’Mahoney, yes; this is my partner Detective Inspector Thomas Bishop.’

  Anne shook the distraught woman’s hand, Tommy just smiled briskly.

  ‘My name is Claire Clancy, I’m Amy’s mother. Come in, come in.’ And she stepped aside to let them in.

  ‘Just in to your right.’ She said. And Tommy nodded, walking into the indicated room.

  On one sofa sat two people. First, a red haired woman, and beside her a man in a worn suit. The man was one of the tallest Tommy had ever seen; closer perhaps to seven feet than six. He looked stressed, chewing his nails and fretting with the fabric of his suit. His short black hair was peppered with white, while his unshaven face looked to be a curly brown – despite that he looked still as if he were in his thirties; maybe he had aged badly or maybe Tommy and Anne had caught him on a bad day. Claire followed them in.

  The man got up and shook hands with Tommy and introduced himself as Gary Clancy; Amy’s father. The redhead remained unintroduced; instead she got up and said that she would get everyone some tea.

  ‘Now, my sincerest apologies, but we haven’t actually been told anything about the case. Who is Amy?’ Anne asked, with her best attempt at sensitivity.

  Both Gary and Claire jumped up to answer, but Gary got in first.

  ‘Amy is our daughter, she’s been missing since twelve today.’ Gary said.

  ‘Now how long have you two been separated?’ Tommy asked.

  Claire and Gary looked at each other, before Claire turned back to Tommy confused.

  ‘If you haven’t read the case, how could you know that?’ She asked.

  ‘It seemed to make sense.’ Tommy said, nodding towards the door where the redhead had left. An awkwardness descended upon the two with whom Tommy was talking.

  ‘Three years almost.’ Gary said. Tommy nodded.

  ‘What age is Amy?’ Anne asked.

  ‘Eleven.’ Claire replied.

  ‘Has she ever run away from home before or have any behavioural problems?’ Anne asked.

  ‘No, never.’ Gary said.

  ‘And does she have a mobile phone?’ Anne asked.

  ‘Yes, a Samsung. She got it for her eleventh birthday.’ Claire said.

  ‘Have you tried ringing her?’ Anne asked.

  Claire looked outraged. ‘At least fifty times.’

  ‘So it’s off?’ Anne asked.

  ‘It’s off.’ Claire said, and Anne scribbled in a jotter she had taken with her.

  Then, in walked the redhead with a tray, upon which was a teapot and four mugs; as well as milk and sugar.

  ‘What will you have Detective?’ Asked the lady, now pouring tea for her man.

  ‘Just milk, if you will.’ And she nodded.

  Tommy stood up.

  ‘So, your daughter, an eleven year old girl has been missing since twelve today?’ Tommy asked. Both parents nodded their agreement.

  ‘Who was the last one to see her?’ Tommy asked.

  Claire raised her hand.

  ‘I did, just outside this house.’ She said.

  ‘Ah, of course, where was she headed to?’ Tommy asked.

  ‘She was going to a party in Captain Americas on Grafton Street.’ Claire said. ‘Of course, with the bus strike today, I said I’d drive her into Stephan’s Green. We were running a little late, and when we left the house to get into the car, I noticed that each of the tires had been slit by some prick. I was so angry, I gave her change and told her to get the LUAS; she wasn’t happy, but what could I do?’

  ‘Did you hear from her after this?’ Anne asked.

  ‘No, nothing.’ Claire said and a tear left her eye.

  Tommy glanced over at Anne: that was their reason for running away there.

  ‘When did you first become alarmed?’ Anne asked.

  ‘Well, I expected her to check in once or twice, but I didn’t want to smother her, so I let it be. But still, I had gotten a car so I drove into town for four o’clock and I rang and rang her upon my arrival. To no avail – her phone was off.’ Claire began to shake.

  ‘And then?’ Anne asked.

  ‘I rang Ciara, the girl whose birthday it was, I rang her father. And, and, he said..’ Claire began to sob.

  Gary seemed at a loss as what to do, whether to comfort his ex-wife or not, as he raised his hand as if to touch her shoulder, but then glanced back at his girlfriend and stopped.

  Anne turned to Gary.

  ‘Does Amy have any enemies?’ She asked.

  ‘Enemies? Jesus no, she is only a child.’ Gary said.

  ‘Routine question is all. Is she involved with any boys?’ Anne asked.

  ‘Boys? She is eleven.’ Claire said this time, between panicked tears.

  ‘Her phone is a smartphone?’ Tommy asked.

  ‘Yes.’ Said Gary.

  Then boys certainly aren’t out of the question.

  ‘How was she in school?’ Anne asked.

  ‘Popular, she had friends, teachers liked her – she got on with everyone, always talking about what her friends were up to. We were just so relieved she got on, you know since some kids find it so hard.’ Said Claire

  ‘So plenty of friend’s houses she could be staying in?’ Anne asked.

  ‘What?’ Claire looked up. ‘No! No no no! You can’t be like that; you don’t think she’s missing! You think she’s run away!’

  Anne leaned forward in her chair. ‘Look, Mrs Clancy, really, the majority of teenagers are found within a few hours of their going missing, and abductions; I mean I don’t want to say that they don’t happen but really, 95% of the time; the kid’s just run away. Right Tommy?’ Anne said.

  Tommy, slouched in his seat, nodded. ‘My partner’s right, your daughter will turn up soon. Now, maybe we should divide up; separate interviews. Just standard procedure?’

  All nodded.

  ‘Partner?’ Anne asked, as she passed him at
the doorway.

  ‘Don’t get ideas, I was just instilling confidence.’ Tommy said.

  Now it was just Tommy and Claire alone together. The silence hung off the ticking of the clock heavy like, tick-tock tick-tock tick-tock – no rest for the wicked it whispered over the sleek blonde hair of this broken woman; her long legs, her perfect tits. Stop it.

  ‘How are you?’ Asked Tommy.

  Claire sobbed. ‘Ok, just, it’s hard.’

  ‘Can you manage some questions?’ Asked Tommy.

  Claire nodded.

  ‘Tell me about Amy. What school does she go to? What kind of child is she? That kind of thing; if you don’t mind.’ Tommy said.

  ‘Well, she’s happy, involved in school, plays GAA; you know? The separation was difficult on her, I know, but she had bounced back. All the teachers in school say it too, that she has really come out her shell these past few months. She was looking forward so much to this party too, I can’t see why she would, of her own volition, not turn up – no matter how angry she was at me. The girls in her class must have been very disappointed she never arrived, she always says how they pester her to go along to one of their events.’ Claire said.

  ‘Seriously.’ Continued Tommy. He leaned forward and moved aside his suit jacket, revealing the pistol at his hip. ‘I really don’t doubt that she will turn up, as a cop I’ve heard of maybe five or six of these cases every year, and every time, the kid was just hiding somewhere.’

  ‘Really?’ Asked Claire.

  ‘In a few hours she’ll show, and there won’t be a problem or care in the world again that will worry you quite like this. All this will do is teach you to count your blessings.’

  ‘You think?’ Asked Claire.

  ‘In a few years you’ll forget all about these few hours of hell, and it will just be a memory that might come back when she gets her leaving cert results; those hours you falsely thought you had lost her.’ Tommy said.

  ‘I just need to stay calm.’ Said Claire, her tears drying.

  ‘Exactly, it’s difficult, sitting and doing nothing. But that unfortunately is all that you can do.’ Said Tommy.

  He arose from the brown woven chair, and poked his head out the door. Anne and Gary were having a chat.