Eight Ball Boogie - Declan Burke [75]
“Galway’s been creaming off the top for a long time now. The coke comes into the country, every now and again we stop some and most of that gets destroyed. What isn’t destroyed, the cheap crap, goes back on the streets. Depending on the streets, a blind eye can be turned. If it’s going into Ballymun, say, no one says fuck all. Keeps the natives from getting restless.” He shrugged. “They call it passive policing. Got it from New York, the time they brought in zero tolerance. Works a treat, too. If it starts filtering out anywhere else, though, anywhere outside Dublin, or Cork or Limerick, bells start ringing. Galway’s tripped a couple of alarms already.”
“So what was all the Tyson bullshit about yesterday?”
“Jesus, Rigby.” Brady ran a hand through his hair, took a deep breath. “We’re down here to keep an eye on Conway, the Flatliners. That’s what Galway thinks. Then Imelda Sheridan gets her throat cut and we get pulled onto that, it’s too much of a coincidence. Meanwhile, Galway is trying to keep me out of Conway’s face, because they’re both tight with Sheridan. Which suits me, because I’m keeping tabs on Galway.”
“And Galway’s moving coke onto Sheridan.”
Brady picked at his teeth with a dirty fingernail.
“Yes and no.”
“Yes and no?”
“Fact is, there is no coke. As far as Sheridan knows, he’s reeling in a deal with Galway. We’re not sure how much to kick off with, but we think it’s in the region of half a million. That’s what Sheridan thinks. We know Galway doesn’t have a half million in coke, because no one could turn a blind eye to that much gear going missing.”
I wasn’t surprised. I had all the blind eyes going.
“So Galway hears that some bloke wants to exploit a niche in the market. He throws out some hooks and Sheridan bites, they set up a deal.”
“But there’s no coke.”
“But there’s no coke. That’s where Eddie comes in. Eddie puts the bounce on Sheridan, tells him he won’t go public about the coke if everything’s kept sweet. Sheridan does his sums and reckons its still worth it. Eddie takes the money and runs, splits it down the middle with Galway, they’re laughing. Sheridan’s left twisting in the wind and not a dry fucking eye in the house. Who’s he going to call, Ghostbusters?”
My stomach turned over.
“Except Sheridan doesn’t play ball.”
“Which is when Eddie pays his wife a visit, and she winds up with a hole in her throat.”
I noodled that around, trying to work out how I should feel. Nothing suggested itself.
“I still don’t see where I come into it.”
“Wake up, Rigby. You were the fall guy. Galway put Conway onto you so you’d start digging on his wife. When Imelda Sheridan gets investigated, you’re the man with the blackmail motive, the negatives to prove it.”
“And Gonzo put Galway wise about me.”
“Correct.”
I was going to vomit. Three nights running, it was a record.
“So how come they turned on Gonzo?”
“No one turned on him. Eddie took too many pills. Shit happens.”
“Convenient. Who took the pop at me?”
“Galway.”
“Galway?”
“Not Galway himself, he wouldn’t get his hands dirty. But it was his call.”
Something in his tone gave it away.
“You knew? Brady? You fucking knew he was going to take a pop? You sat back and let him try to fucking kill me?”
“Relax, Rigby. Jesus.”
“Relax? You cunt, I’ll fucking –”
I was halfway across the seat, not knowing what I was going to do when I got all the way there, when he bounced the butt against my temple. I slumped back in the seat, shaking.
“Yeah I knew, of course I fucking knew, I jarked the fucking gun myself. Only for me you’d be slabbed out. So get fucking grateful and do it fast.”
My voice sounded hollow.
“There’s no way you could have done that without clearance from upstairs.”
There was another pause. When he spoke he sounded slightly robotic.
“We are encouraged to show initiative in the field.”
“Bullshit.”
He abandoned the pretence.
“Believe what you want, Rigby, I give a fuck. You’re alive, stop whinging.”
I rolled another smoke, trying to think.
“So what happens now?”
“What happens now is we find Galway. Sheridan took Conway out,