MY FIRST DAY BACK at the yard there was talk of Donal O’Donnell, and of Denny. Mark made a point of telling Finbar, within earshot of the other workers, everything we knew. Everybody had liked Donal, and while shocked, everyone seemed willing to think that Denny O’Donnell had killed his twin brother. The police had implied that to the newspapers, announcing the details of Donal’s death and that they wished to interview Denny in that connection. Finbar said he would give time off for the funeral, and Mark willingly agreed.
The depression I felt over the break in my relationship with Connie was lifted by the sight of the boat. The laid teak decking was now completed, and somehow, for the first time, the whole thing looked like a yacht instead of a building project. I now felt what Mark must have been feeling all along; the boat, the whole project, was beginning to live for me. I could stand on the new decks and imagine that she was surrounded by salt water instead of a tin shed. If there had been a moment when I had wanted to abandon the project and leave Mark to carry on alone, it was gone in that instant.
Mark joined me. “She’s going to be something, isn’t she?”
“She sure is. We’ll launch in June, then?”
At the end of our work day I took Annie’s shopping list and started toward the supermarket in Douglas, as I often did. I was the last to leave the yard. No more than a couple of hundred yards from the gate I saw a man standing next to his car; the bonnet was up, and he was waving for me to stop. I pulled in behind him. As I got out and started toward him, another car pulled in behind mine. It was a green Volkswagen. I turned to see who else had stopped to help, and I was grabbed by two men and hustled off the road into some tall reeds at the river’s edge. The third man, the one in the stalled car, joined us. He was carrying a lug wrench.
“Is it him?” the third man asked.
“It is,” said another man. I recognized the red-bearded fisherman whose nets we had once run over in Toscana, Red something, he was called. I looked quickly about me. We were now completely hidden from the road, and it was nearly dark. I yanked one arm free and took a wild swing at Red, but I missed. The other two quickly pinned my arms. Red took the lug wrench from the other man and stood before me. “You’ll answer for Donal O’Donnell,” he said.”
For some reason, the fight with Denny O’Donnell ran through my mind. Now, as then, I knew there was no way out of this unless I made it myself, and my chances didn’t seem good. I kicked at him and connected. My foot caught him in the pit of his stomach and sent him backward onto the ground. I struggled wildly to free myself from the other two, but they held on doggedly. Red was getting to his feet. I managed to come down hard on the instep of one of the other two, but although he yelled in pain, he still held on. Red was coming at me with the lug wrench.
Suddenly, we were bathed in an intensely bright light. “Stand where you are!” a deep voice shouted, and there was a click of metal like a gun being cocked. I could see nothing but the circle of light, and neither could the others. “Gardai!” The voice shouted. “Don’t move.” Everybody froze. “What’s happening here?” the voice asked.
“Ah, just a bit of personal business,” Red said nervously. “Personal, is it?” the voice asked. “With a bit of steel in your hand?”
“We was just fixing the motorcar,” Red replied.
“You, in the middle,” the voice said to me. “Step away from there.”
I quickly jumped a couple of steps away but was still in the beam of light.
“It appears to me that you meant to harm this lad,” the voice said.
“Ah, no, ‘twas nothing like that, now,” Red said back. “Just a bit of personal bother.”
“Well, I know you,” the voice said to Red, “and if there’s any more bother with this lad I’ll be paying you a visit, do you hear me?”
Red nodded. “We’ll be going, if it’s all right.”
“Move, then.”
They moved, and quickly. Both cars were driven off in record time. The light came closer to me, then flicked off, leaving me blinded. “You all right, Mr. Lee?” The accent suddenly changed from Irish to English. I was confused.
“Yeah, I guess so, but if you’re a policeman I think you should arrest those fellows; I’ll bring charges.”
“I’m not a policeman; my name is Primrose, Major Primrose. We spoke on the phone.”
Derek Thrasher’s security man. I sagged with relief. “Jesus, I’m glad to see you.”
“I’d stopped to check on my man opposite the yard, there.” He pointed up the hill. “Come on, let’s get you back to your car.”
We walked through the reeds back onto the road. “What are you going to do about this?” I asked. “Should I report it to the police?”
“No,” he said. “I shouldn’t think so. Our mutual acquaintance would rather avoid that. Anyway, those blokes think I am the police and that I know them. They’ll back off, I think. Do you know them?”
“Just the one with the beard. His name is Red something. He’s an illegal salmon fisherman.”
“Ah, good, I’ll have a word with a friend of mine in the Gardai, perhaps have his boat looked at. He won’t be back around; I know the sort.”
“If you say so.”
“Don’t worry about it further,” he said, opening my car door for me. “You’re in good hands.”
It certainly seemed that way. I thanked him and drove off toward Douglas, trembling as the adrenalin died away. I was lucky not to be lying in those reeds with a broken head.
I drove through the gates of Coolmore Castle and headed toward the cottage. As I passed the castle I saw Lord Coolmore getting out of his Mercedes. He waved me down.
“I read about Donal O’Donnell,” he said, leaning against my car. “I’d rather not read about things that happen on my land in the newspaper. I’d rather be told.” In the dark I couldn’t see his face well, but he didn’t sound happy.
“I’m sorry no one told you, Peter Patrick,” “I replied, but we were a bit too shocked to think of telling you, I suppose.”
He nodded. “I know the papers are saying Denny O’Donnell did it, but I shouldn’t be surprised if some of the local lads think Mark had something to do with it, seeing the body was found near the cottage.”
“I’m afraid some of them do think that,” I said. I told him about what had happened to me an hour before. “A … uh, policeman arrived at the right moment.”
He nodded. “Good. The red-headed fellow sounds like Red O’Mahoney. I know a fellow who knows him. I’ll have a word. You shouldn’t be bothered by that lot again.”
“I hope not.”
“Will, if anything else like this happens—if anything else at all happens—I think it would be best if you came to me first, do you take my point?”
“All right.”
“Mention that to Mark, too, would you? I haven’t seen him for a bit. I think I can be of assistance in seeing that you have no more local bother through the completion of the boat, but remember, if anything else should happen, see me first.”
We said good night, and I drove on. I wondered if he really meant that, should we find another dead body on the foreshore, we should come to him first.