Private Dublin

Chapter 19

“I used a gray name to hire it,” Andi told me as I placed my bag in the trunk of a black Ford Kuga.

Gray names were identities belonging to real people we paid to allow us to book hotel rooms, car rentals, Airbnb homes and other practical hires in their name when we didn’t want to leave a paper trail. Private had to operate within the law, but sometimes our activities required straining legal limits, and gray names were one way we did this.

“I used a different name to rent a place in the city center,” she said as we got into the car.

She started the Ford, revved the engine a little too long, and drove out of the white multi-story parking structure at speed. She was an aggressive driver, bordering on reckless, but I said nothing as we darted along the airport service roads, weaving through the traffic, passing rental cars, and red and white Bus Éireann coaches.

While Andi got us clear of the airport, I used my phone to message Justine, Mo-bot and Sci, to let them know I’d arrived safely.

“Have you been to Dublin before?” Andi asked, as we joined the motorway.

“No,” I replied, taking in the greenery that surrounded the busy six-lane highway.

“Your loss,” she said, flashing a cheeky smile. “I was born in London, but my dad was from the old country, and I spent a lot of time here as a child. When Emily asked for a volunteer, I jumped at the chance. And not just because I’d get face time with the big boss.”

It was my turn to smile. Her enthusiastic and irreverent energy shone through, and I found it endearing.

“Or should I call you the ultimate boss?” she asked playfully. “Anyway, I know this place like a home from home and have a lot of friends here. We’re staying in Fitzwilliam Square, in the heart of the action.”

I’d done some research on Dublin at the airport and the city had a reputation as one of the most welcoming capitals in the world. Situated on the Irish Sea, covering less than 120 square kilometers, with a port to the east and lush countryside in every other direction, it was the economic powerhouse of Ireland and home to more than ten percent of the country’s population.

“Emily gave me the case file you sent,” Andi continued. “So, you’re looking for this Finlay fella, or whatever his real name is. Any leads? Where do you want to start?”

“We’ve got his flight details and arrival time,” I replied. “We should start at the airport. Get access to security footage and track his movements. He’ll have left the airport in a private vehicle, cab or public transport, any of which could give us a trail to follow.”

Andi crinkled her nose, signaling she wasn’t keen on my suggestion. “I don’t want to disagree with the big boss, but I’ve got a better idea.”