Authors: Gerard Brennan

Tags: #Mystery, #Suspense, #Thriller, #Crime, #Murder

Undercover (32 page)

BOOK: Undercover

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"Think you'll get fired, then?"

"If not that, I'll definitely be demoted and transferred somewhere shite. Not sure I could stay if they put me back in a uniform. I hate traffic cops."

"Maybe you could work for the police here?"

"Nah, your boys don't get guns. I'm way too much of a cowboy for that aul' craic. Who knows what I'll do? Probably drive a taxi like everybody else who loses their job in Belfast."

"What about becoming a private investigator or something?"

"God, no. That'd be worse than traffic duty. Spying on rich people having affairs with other rich people? No thanks."

"Well, Stephen Black told me he's going away soon. Maybe you could work for Rory Cullen? He was allowed a gun."

"Yeah, I'm not sure who allowed him to have the gun... and I don't think Rory would have me."

"Why? You a United fan?"

"Nah. I don't watch football at all. Boxing's my game. That's a real sport."

"Dad always said boxing's been ‘shite' since Lewis retired." Mattie lowered his voice when he cursed. He knew himself that his mum would be eavesdropping.

"He's right. But I live in hope."

"He
was
right."

Cormac wasn't comfortable. He'd wanted to say goodbye to Mattie and leave things on a positive note. It seemed like all he'd managed to do was bring the kid down. He had to turn things around.

"I got you something," Cormac said.

The kid sat a little straighter on his stool, his interest piqued.

Cormac dug into the inside pocket of his pea coat and pulled out a small box wrapped in brown paper. Mattie stripped away the paper and popped open the little velvet box. His face lit up when he saw the contents.

"It's a Claddagh ring," Cormac said. "I know you probably don't think much of Ireland right now, so I understand if you don't want to wear this, but I wanted to give you something meaningful."

"Why? What does it mean?"

"It's a token of friendship and loyalty."

"It's cool."

"Ah good. I was worried you'd think it was a bit gay."

This time Cormac lowered his voice. They shared a conspiratorial smile.

The kid took the ring from the box and tried it on his middle finger. It was a couple of sizes too big. He looked a little crestfallen.

"You'll grow into it. Maybe you could wear it on a chain until you do?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"And sure, you wouldn't want one you'd grow out of, would you?"

"That's true."

Cormac felt good. He'd pulled their goodbye out of its nosedive. They'd part ways on a high. He gulped down the last of his coffee and stood up.

"I think I'll hit the road, mate."

"So soon?"

"Can't risk missing this plane."

"Will you visit again?"

"Certainly. Might even check out that Facebook thingy and add you as a follower or whatever."

"That'd be cool."

They got off their stools and hugged again, this time less awkwardly.

"I better say bye to your ma as well."

"It'd be rude not to, Detective Kelly."

Lydia stood in the kitchen doorway, the ghost of a smirk on her face. Cormac ruffled Mattie's hair until the kid slapped him away. He went to Lydia and offered her his hand. Her grip was firm and businesslike.

"Please, call me Cormac."

"Sorry, yes. Cormac. Cormac Kelly." She drew a card from the back pocket of her jeans. "Stephen Black asked me to give you this."

There was a mobile phone number printed on one side. No name. On the other side somebody had written a short note in fastidiously neat cursive. Cormac squinted at the small letters.

Thank you for the football ticket, Detective. I plan to put it to good use. If things don't work out well with the PSNI call the overleaf number and we'll explore some employment opportunities. Your work ethic and skill-set impressed me.

Regards

Stephen Black

"You going to take him up on the offer?" Lydia asked.

"I doubt it," Cormac said, but he slipped the card into his back pocket.

Lydia nodded. "I'm not sure how legal his ‘security' business is."

"I have my own doubts about that as well."
But you weren't exactly Johnny Law last week.
"Probably better off out of it." And yet the card remained in his pocket.

Lydia and Mattie saw Cormac to the door. He walked the short distance to his rental car, parked in their roomy driveway, and turned for a final wave goodbye. They smiled at him from the porch. There was a gap between Lydia and the doorframe where Cormac imagined John would have stood.

He revved the rental car's engine. The boxy little Toyota felt like a toy compared to Stephen Black's kitted-out Vectra. He put a lid on an emerging swashbuckling fantasy inspired by the little security consultant's note. There were other things he needed to concentrate on in the immediate future. Saving his job and getting back into Donna's good graces were his top priorities.

But if it all went wrong, at least he had a plan B.

###

Books by Gerard Brennan

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