Read Online Nineteen Seventy-Four by David Peace - Free Book Online Page B

time Barry Gannon showed up. It was now almost last orders and most of the Swan had fucked off home for Sunday lunch.
    He sat down with his pint and took a cigarette from my pack. “Didn’t find their Johnny hiding under the bed then?”
    I was in no fucking mood. “What?”
    Barry spoke slowly, “Johnny Kelly. Great White Hope?”
    “What about him?” I was on the verge of cracking him.
    “Jesus fucking Christ, Eddie.”
    The tankards, the trophies, fuck. “He’s related to the Garlands?”
    “Give the boy another fucking prize. Paula Garland’s bloody brother. Been living there since her husband died and that model left him.”
    Face on fire again, blood boiling. “Husband’s dead?”
    “Fuck, Dunford. You’ve got to know these things.”
    “Shit.”
    “Never got over Jeanette. Ate a shotgun two or three years ago.”
    “And you knew this? Why the fuck didn’t you say?”
    “Fuck off. Do your fucking job or ask.” Barry took a big bite out of his pint to hide his bloody grin.
    “All right, I’m asking.”
    “The husband topped himself about the same time their Johnny started making a name for himself, on and off the pitch.”
    “Bit of a Jack the Lad?”
    “Aye, right lad about town. Married Miss Weston-super-Mare 1971 or something. Didn’t last. So, when she upped and left him, it was back to his Big Sister’s.”
    “The Georgie Best of Rugby League?”
    “Don’t suppose you followed it much down South?”
    Salvaging some pride, I said, “Wasn’t exactly Front Page stuff, no.”
    “Well it was here and you should’ve fucking known.”
    I lit another cigarette, hating him for rubbing it in and the smile on his cakehole that went with it.
    But fuck pride and the fall. I said, “So Paul Kelly at work, he’s what?”
    “Some cousin or something. Ask him.”
    I swallowed, swearing this would be the last time ever, “And Kelly didn’t show up for the game today?”
    “I don’t know. You’ll have to find out, won’t you?”
    “Yeah,” I muttered, thinking please God don’t let my eyes fill up.
    A voice boomed, “Time gentlemen please.”
    We both drained our glasses.
    I said, “How’d you get on with Mrs Dawson?”
    “She told me my life was in danger,” smiled Barry as he stood up.
    “You’re joking? Why?”
    “Why not? I know too much.”
    We walked out through the double doors to the car park.
    “You believe her?”
    “They have something on everyone. The question’s just when they’ll use it.” Barry stubbed out his cigarette in the gravel.
    “Who’s they?”
    Barry was rummaging through his pockets, looking for his car keys. “They don’t have names.”
    “Fuck off,” I laughed, the three pints and the fresh air giving me guts.
    “There are Death Squads out there. Why not one for Barry Cannon?”
    “Death Squads?”
    “You think that shit is just for the Yellow Man or the Indian? There are Death Squads in every city, in every country.”
    I turned and started to walk away. “You’ve fucking lost it.”
    Barry caught my arm. “They train them in Northern Ireland. Give them a taste, then bring them back home hungry.”
    “Fuck off,” I said, shaking him loose.
    “What? You really think it’s gangs of Paddies in donkey jackets, lugging round big bags of fucking fertiliser, blowing up all these pubs?”
    “Yeah,” I smiled.
    Barry looked down at the ground, ran his hand through his hair, and said, “If a man comes up to you in the street and asks you for an address, is he lost or is he interrogating you?”
    I smiled, “Big Brother?”
    “He’s watching you.”
    I glanced up at blue sky turning grey and said, “If you seriously believe her, you should tell someone.”
    “Who am I going to tell? The Law? These people are the fucking Law. Every life is in danger.”
    “So why go on? Why not top yourself like Garland?”
    “Because I believe in right and wrong. I believe I will be judged and not by them. So fuck them all’s what I say.”
    I