Conna in Crisis & The Marriage of Ulick (23 page)

‘It could be a hoax, sir.’

‘It could; the bottom line is, we have to have the plans if they exist.’

‘I agree, sir.’

‘Go ahead then,’ he rose and shook hands with his CIA Director.

*

L
ittle John eat the unappetising food and slept on and off, hearing at times, the conversation in the other room, but not listening to it. Getting up on his bed, he looked out the window. It was just a green field; the sky overcast; all he knew, he wanted his mum. He heard the radio voice that was part of the evening ritual. It started with “Oh Dandaboy- Oh Dandaboy.” It rang a bell with him. At the end a new voice continued. “Little John, this is mum—sing the song with me, out loud now “Oh Dan-da-boy, oh Dan-da-boy.” He jumped up, excited, “Oh Dan-da-boy, mum.”

He looked around to find Dandaboy sitting beside him smiling; he put his arms around the child. ‘I bring you home.’

‘My funny friend,’ he grinned happily for the first time in weeks.

Dandaboy sent a message to Ulick. Little John, safe; come and arrest these bad men. I guide you to this place. Then, he cautioned John. ‘Not a sound now, lad.’

‘Bad men see me.’

‘No, we play game; I make you disappear. Ulick will be here soon with your mum.’

They waited patiently; half an hour later, a helicopter landed in the field outside and armed soldiers leapt out; another helicopter landed in front of the house. There was frantic activity in the other room.

One of the thugs shouted. ‘They’ve found us; what are we going to do? We can’t fight our way out of this.’

The other replied. ‘Get the child; we’ll use him as a human shield.’

The door burst open and a very agitated man rushed in; then stopped short.’

‘He’s not here,’ he screamed.

The other one joined him. ‘He has to be here; shit, how did he get away?’

‘What are we going to do?’

The sound of a loud hailer intervened.

“You in the house, come out with your hands up. If you carry weapons you’ll be shot without warning.”

‘What are we going to do?’ he repeated.

He was thinking fast. ‘Hide the guns; no child here; we’re just tourists; they can’t hold us. Let’s go.’

Dandaboy heard the front door opening and a further warning issued over the loud hailer. Taking John by the hand they approached the front door together. They could see the thugs were now handcuffed, loudly protesting their innocence. Dandaboy let the child walk ahead; everyone could see only John. Nodie rushed forward, swept him up in her arms and, with tears of joy pouring down her beautiful face, held him close.

‘My poor boy.’

He grinned at her. ‘Where funny man Dan-da go?’

Ulick joined them. ‘He will come to see you later.’

Taken to Eglinton Garda station in Galway, the two thugs were questioned and charged; they sang like canaries; they received instructions by phone from Havlec. Taken before the local District Justice they were formally charged and held in custody.

Frankie wanted to send an extradition order to the British authorities to have Havlec brought to Galway to stand trial for kidnapping; Ulick disagreed. ‘We haven’t enough evidence to get such an order, but if that bastard sets foot in this country again we’ll have him.’

There was great celebrations throughout the country; TV and evening papers carried the story, with pictures of Nodie carrying little John to safety. But no reference was made to the blackmail letters.

*

A
lthough guarded by a special force of guards, Nodie could hardly bear to let little John out of her sight. It was thought the little lad might need counselling, but he quickly forgot his ordeal. Dandaboy and Setanta helped; they came and played with him every day.

The case continued; Ulick proceeded with his list of environmental witnesses; Moxy, considering his own reputation, didn’t want to lose. He spoke to Havlec regularly on the phone and recommended settlement. ‘No fucking way’ was the reply he received.

Nodie still had the old dilemma. The smoke and mirrors were fine, but Ulick had no case. She would have to find for the blackguard that had her son kidnapped; that was causing her sleepless nights. She examined the submissions again; no way could she find for the people of Achill. Ulick would prolong the case for as long as possible, but she could see he was sleep walking his way through it.

*

A
nnie Clarke presented herself in Ulick’s office while he scanned the post.

‘Ulick,’ she smiled sweetly, ‘Now that all the commotion is over, why don’t we go away for a weekend together. I have a brochure for a lovely new hotel in west Cork.’

Setanta sat up; he didn’t like this.

‘Wait until the case is over; I’ll think about it then.’

She knew he was stalling; so did Setanta.

‘Ulick,’ she said quietly. ‘Why don’t you give in; you have no chance of winning this case.’

‘Perhaps you’re right,’ he grunted.

‘Well then let me book the hotel,’ she smiled most agreeably.

‘No.’

‘All right,’ she muttered angrily and left.

Setanta lay down and relaxed.

*

A
board the American cruiser, Dandaboy found Jake, pale and sweating, watching the monitor while the divers put the chains around the rocket. It was very fuzzy down there. Then, one of the divers gave the signal to lift the rocket. It didn’t appear to move; the picture became fuzzier. Then, very slowly, the rocket was detached from the bottom and started to rise.

The divers were taken on board. Jake approached the rail for a cursory examination. There was complete silence.

‘Bring it closer,’ Jake ordered.

It was eased towards him; he looked for the familiar markings.

‘That’s not the rocket,’ he announced. ‘Take off the chains and let it go.’

Moments later it slipped below the surface.

‘What the hell do we do now?’ Herb demanded.

‘Continue the search, what else can we do.’

*

N
an became more and more suspicious. A question that wouldn’t go away began to form in her mind; from her inquiries it was clear that Annie had been around the track a few times. She well knew the old saying: “There’s many a man rocking another man’s cradle who thinks he’s rocking his own.” It was the oldest trick in the book, but how could she prove it.

*

A
t eight o’clock in the morning there was a polite knock on Eddy Soames bedroom door. He interrupted his shaving. Brother Eoin handed him a sealed package. He finished shaving and casually opened it. It contained a key and a single sheet of paper with the following typed message; “The enclosed key is for a safe deposit box in the Lynch Bank in Galway, which contains the plans of the X12.” There was no signature. He dressed hastily and rushed down to reception demanding to know who delivered the package. Brother Eoin wasn’t sure; he thought it was a courier firm in Galway

While he was there, Boris and Madame Lin arrived carrying similar packages. They stared angrily at one another and came to the same conclusion. Eddy turned to the astonished Brother Eoin.

‘Get me a taxi right away.’

‘Me too,’ the others ordered.

He picked up the phone. ‘Aren’t you going to have breakfast first?’

‘No,’ they almost screamed at him.

Judith Crosweller watched the three taxies depart from Turla at speed; it looked like a race; it was. Packed and ready to go, she checked out of the hotel and took a taxi to Knock Airport.

*

T
he three taxies screamed to a halt in Middle Street in Galway, two blocks from the Lynch Bank, which was located in the pedestrian area. All the occupants raced, with indecent haste, to the bank, which was just opening for business. Such was the furore in different languages that Mags O’Connor, who was in charge of the safe deposit vault, sent for the manager.

Jack Kirby was an old hand who wasn’t easily fussed. He listened to all the demands and even a few threats.

He raised his hands for silence. ‘Calm down everyone, you will all get your turn.’

He turned to his colleague. ‘Take this lady first, Miss O’Connor.’

Eddy and Boris roared at him. ‘I demand that I go first.’

Mags O’Connor opened the steel door, let Madame Lin enter and take the steps down to the vault. She locked the door again.

The manager continued calmly.

‘Mr Soames, you may go next.’

Boris wasn’t having this.

‘I go next,’ he thundered.

‘I hope, sir that I won’t find it necessary to call in the police.’

‘No, no,’ he grunted.

When the light flashed red over the door, Mags opened it and let Madame Lin out. She looked positively unhappy but said nothing. Eddy entered. Madame Lin stood aside. Boris looked at her; she remained silent.

Eddy arrived a few minutes later looking equally unhappy; as did Boris ten minutes later. They stood there together, looking at one another, very quiet now. Eventually, Madame Lin produced a package from her bag. It contained cut up sheets of newspapers.

‘I’ve been done,’ she announced simply.

‘So have I,’ the other two produced similar packages.

Eddy was angry, perhaps because he liked her. He read from outside of his envelope.

“Thanks from Judith.”

‘The bloody bitch,’ Boris grunted.

‘What we do now?’ Madame Lin asked.

‘I’ll find the thief and recover our money. Let me get to a phone.’ Eddy departed hastily.

‘I thought she was a nice gentle lady,’ Lin added.

‘I’ll wring the traitor’s neck,’ Boris thundered.

*

T
he boring court case continued; Nodie tried to look interested; the local press reporter slept at times. Then, one morning, Ulick addressed the court.

‘Mi Lady, I don’t propose to call any further witnesses.’

Thank goodness for that.

She looked down at him. ‘Thank you Mr Joyc, I will begin summing up in the morning.’

He stayed on his feet.

‘Mi Lady, I will complete my case by putting in evidence a relevant EU Directive.’

Moxy stayed silent.

Ulick took three thick documents from his briefcase; handed one to the court clerk; the other to Moxy. He continued.

‘Mi Lady, I accept that the concession given by the Dublin Government was valid but not legitimate. However, the EU Directive, of which you have a copy, was issued ten years ago.’

‘Is this relevant?’ Moxy demanded.

‘It is,’ he replied quietly.

Nodie was wondering where he was going while she thumbed her way through the long document.

‘Can you enlighten us, Mr Joyc?’

‘I can, Mi Lady. Please turn to page 132 which clearly states that any mining or mineral concession granted by a member state must be activated within five years of the date of issue. Oko oil has failed to meet that deadline, which expired two weeks ago. I now ask the court to cancel the concession and award costs to my clients.’

Nodie couldn’t believe it; she read and reread the section trying to conceal her joy. Now she knew why he was playing the old soldier. She noticed that Frankie had entered the chamber, accompanied by a number of journalists. Moxy was keeping very quiet. She put down the document and addressed the court.

‘The overriding authority of the EU Directive puts an entirely different perspective on this case. It is my decision that the Oko case must fail because it did not comply with the time scale required by the Directive. I’m awarding costs to the defendants. This court is now adjourned.’

There was a roar of approval from the back of the court. Frankie came forward and shook Ulick by the hand while cameras clicked and reporters sought his attention. Moxy congratulated him and withdrew quietly.

Nodie couldn’t show her feelings in open court; returning to her chambers she threw off her robe and cried tears of joy.

*

U
lick was leaving the courthouse, to the cheers of the large crowd, when an Oldish looking man approached him. Ulick remembered seeing him before; he was one of those who occasionally attended the court.

‘Mr Joyc,’ he had to shout, ‘Congratulations. I would like to talk to you and the Taoiseach.’

‘Certainly, but we can’t talk here. Will you make an appointment and come to my office in Conna.’

‘This needs to be today. I think you will both like what I have to say.’

‘All right. Wait until we get clear of this crowd and I’ll take you around to Frankie’s office,’ He paused as cameras snapped again. ‘What is your name?’

‘I’m registered in Turla Lodge Hotel as Wesley Harding, but my real name is Hugh Weston.’

*

I
the Oko headquarters, Michael Havlec was livid; reports of Oko’s defeat in the Galway Supreme Court were headline news on TV and in the nationals. Why the hell didn’t someone tell him about the damned deadline? What was he paying lawyers for? He was satisfied that he could not be implicated in the kidnapping. Now he would have to do another deal with those bastards and give them a lot more than one percent. He reached for the phone.

As he did so, his executive assistant rushed in without knocking; he was out of breath and took a moment to recover.

‘Sir, our shares are in free fall; they’re down to $200. I’ve been on to our brokers; it’s a massive dawn raid.’

‘Dawn raid? Who?’

‘He doesn’t know yet. The press are looking for a statement from you. What are we going to do?’

‘Dammit. Issue a short statement; we’re disappointed with the result of the legal action and are now proceeding to do a new deal with the government of Hi-Brazil.’

‘What about the share price, sir?’

‘Get on with it man; the statement will settle the market. I’ll appear on TV later if necessary.’

*

F
rankie met with Ulick and Ozzy for a quiet drink in Paulo’s; there was a wonderful atmosphere of victory in that noisy crowd. Frankie called for brandy. Paulo grinned at him. ‘Going up market, Taoiseach.’

‘Don’t you Taoiseach me or I’ll close this place down,’ Frankie responded with mock gravity.

Setanta entered and cantered up to where they were standing.