Private Dublin

Chapter 74

I stared at Andi, wondering at the layers of pretense and deception that had enabled her to pass for a trusted member of the team, at the way in which she had endeared herself to me, the meals we’d shared, the time we’d spent together. How could anyone be so callous and deceiving?

She was about to say something else when her phone rang.

“Yes,” she answered. “Yes. Still here. Waiting for you.”

She hung up and looked at me. “That was Raymond. He’s five minutes out and eager to see you.”

“You’re going to let them kill me?” I asked.

Her expression hardened. “Who knows? I might be the one to pull the trigger.”

I was about to respond when I was startled by the sound of a crash and splintering wood. Then came the tramp of footsteps and cries of, “Garda! Armed police! Armed police!”

The kitchen was invaded by a squad of armed Gardai from the force’s tactical unit in full body armor. The four men trained their pistols on Andi, who put her weapon on the table and raised her hands.

Two of the officers moved quickly to restrain her, pushing her head onto the table and snapping cuffs around her wrists.

“Andi, Andi, Andi,” Conor Roche said as he sauntered into the room. “I never thought I’d have to do this.”

The two tactical officers hauled her to her feet and turned her to face Roche.

“It’s a crying shame,” he went on, “but thanks to Mr. Morgan and his colleagues we’ve caught another rotten apple.”

She glanced at me, her expression full of anger.

“How?” she asked.

I pulled my phone from my pocket. “I never hung up. It’s been on the whole time, recording everything. My colleagues have been monitoring my movements and interactions to ensure I’m safe.” I hadn’t ended my call with Mo-bot before I arrived at the Curragh and had just slipped my phone into my pocket, so she could listen to and record everything that followed my confrontation with Lawrence Finch. I spoke into my phone now. “Thanks for saving my bacon.”

“Anytime,” Mo-bot replied. “Make sure they lock her up somewhere nice and tight.”

“You sound irritated,” I remarked.

“No one installs surveillance on my machines,” Mo-bot replied. “I take that very personally.”

I smiled. “Let me finish up here and I’ll call you back.”

I hung up and turned to Conor Roche. “I’ll make sure you get a copy of the recording of what she said today.”

Andi glared at me.

“Thanks, Mr. Morgan,” he replied. “We’ll need a statement too.”

“Can we do that tomorrow?” I asked. “I’ve got somewhere to be.”

“Of course,” he said. “There’s no rush. She won’t be going anywhere except prison.”

Andi’s eyes flashed with hatred.

“Come by headquarters in the morning,” Conor told me.

“Will do,” I said, easing myself past him and the two tactical officers who had helped secure the room.

“He’s clear to exit,” Conor yelled, and the uniformed officers in the hallway allowed me to pass.

I stepped into the early-afternoon sunshine and jogged away from the cottage. I got out just in time to duck behind a parked car as a Range Rover turned onto the street and crawled slowly past. I didn’t recognize the men seated in front, but in the back were Raymond Chalmont and Sam Farrell.

When the occupants saw the police and realized what had happened, the car accelerated quickly as it passed the burgeoning crime scene and the Gardai bringing Andi out of the property. I couldn’t understand why Roche hadn’t mobilized his unit to intercept Raymond Chalmont. Mo would surely have relayed what she’d heard. Experience had taught me some police officers were slow to respond to a live situation and struggled with rapid deployment. I knew it would be up to me to bring these men in.

The Range Rover made a right at the end of the street. I cast around for a cab or some other means of following them, and saw a silver unmarked police car parked haphazardly in a space near my cottage. The red-and-blue dash lights were still flashing, and the engine was running. I recognized it as Conor Roche’s car from when Andi and I had been to see him at Garda Headquarters. As I slipped behind the wheel, I hoped he wouldn’t mind me borrowing it in pursuit of justice.