Read Online The Priest by Gerard O'Donovan - Free Book Online
Authors: Gerard O'Donovan
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Inspector Mulcahy. He normally hangs out with the glam boys in Drugs, but he’ll be working with us on
this. Now, as I was saying…Yes, Maura?’
McHugh, the only woman seated in the group, her blonde hair cut in a bob, her short stature emphasised by the swell of a pregnant
belly, had put up a hand. She turned to look towards Mulcahy for a moment, before asking Cassidy her question.
‘Is there a drugs angle to this you haven’t told us about?’
‘No, at least not that we know of,’ Cassidy laughed grimly. ‘But the inspector here is fluent in the old
es-pan-yole
and he was the one who helped us talk to our young victim yesterday.’ Cassidy glanced over at Brogan before continuing. ‘For
which we’re very grateful, I’m sure. But not asgrateful as the Spanish. They liked him so much they wanted to buy him.’
A few sniggers broke out in the room as Cassidy grinned broadly at his joke.
‘Well, at least we prevented
you
from making matters any worse, didn’t we, Sergeant?’ Mulcahy said, gritting his teeth.
Eyebrows raised, every face in the room now turned from his to Cassidy’s in time to see it flush with indignation. At which
point Brogan pushed herself away from the table and intervened.
‘Alright, lads, settle down. What the sergeant meant is that Inspector Mulcahy here is kindly lending us his expertise in
all things Spanish, and in particular liaising with the embassy – for reasons we really don’t need to go into just now.’
All heads turned back to Mulcahy again, one or two nodding a bit more respectfully this time as Brogan invited him to take
a seat and instructed Cassidy, flatly, to get on with it. The sergeant flicked an angry glance at Mulcahy before resuming.
‘As I was saying, we’ve yet to pin down the actual scene of the assault but given the severity of the girl’s injuries she
can’t have staggered too far from where she was found. What we do know now is where she was beforehand. It’s a club called
the GaGa, out on the Stillorgan Road, where she was with some of her student pals. We tracked one of them down last night and
she says Jesica left the place early to go off with some fella she picked up – an older guy, early tomid-twenties, we reckon. So, for the moment, tracking him down has got to be our number-one priority. Asap, alright?’
Asap, my arse, Mulcahy muttered to himself. Clearly, Cassidy had been watching too many American cop shows and they’d gone
to his head. The man was a complete and utter tool. The sullenness, the smart-arse remarks, the fists-first approach: all the
redneck, bullshit attitude that gave the Gardai a bad name. Mulcahy looked up and saw the sergeant pointing at a large question
mark written on the whiteboard behind him, beneath which were scribbled various notes and key words.
‘In terms of ID-ing this guy, so far we’ve only got the one vague description: tallish, good-looking, brown hair – but that’s
under club lights – and wearing a stripy shirt. That’s all. The good news is that me and the boss popped into the GaGa last
night and managed to score some CCTV from around the right time. We went through a couple of hours’ worth this morning and
managed to locate Jesica’s gang of students entering the venue at 9.35 p.m.’ – he pointed over his shoulder at a video printout
pinned on the board – ‘and, also, the rest of them leaving, as they claimed, at about 12.55 a.m. But, so far, no luck on Jesica
departing with the mystery fella. That means, Whelan, you and me’ll have the delightful job of trawling through the rest of
that CCTV footage this morning.’
A skinny, wavy-haired detective in his mid-thirties, a cheap grey suit and what looked like a GAA tie, groaned loudly, and
got a poke in the back from Hanlon sitting behind him.
‘Before we move on,’ Brogan interrupted, ‘Donagh and Maura were round at the school earlier, mopping up statements from the
other kids –
this. Now, as I was saying…Yes, Maura?’
McHugh, the only woman seated in the group, her blonde hair cut in a bob, her short stature emphasised by the swell of a pregnant
belly, had put up a hand. She turned to look towards Mulcahy for a moment, before asking Cassidy her question.
‘Is there a drugs angle to this you haven’t told us about?’
‘No, at least not that we know of,’ Cassidy laughed grimly. ‘But the inspector here is fluent in the old
es-pan-yole
and he was the one who helped us talk to our young victim yesterday.’ Cassidy glanced over at Brogan before continuing. ‘For
which we’re very grateful, I’m sure. But not asgrateful as the Spanish. They liked him so much they wanted to buy him.’
A few sniggers broke out in the room as Cassidy grinned broadly at his joke.
‘Well, at least we prevented
you
from making matters any worse, didn’t we, Sergeant?’ Mulcahy said, gritting his teeth.
Eyebrows raised, every face in the room now turned from his to Cassidy’s in time to see it flush with indignation. At which
point Brogan pushed herself away from the table and intervened.
‘Alright, lads, settle down. What the sergeant meant is that Inspector Mulcahy here is kindly lending us his expertise in
all things Spanish, and in particular liaising with the embassy – for reasons we really don’t need to go into just now.’
All heads turned back to Mulcahy again, one or two nodding a bit more respectfully this time as Brogan invited him to take
a seat and instructed Cassidy, flatly, to get on with it. The sergeant flicked an angry glance at Mulcahy before resuming.
‘As I was saying, we’ve yet to pin down the actual scene of the assault but given the severity of the girl’s injuries she
can’t have staggered too far from where she was found. What we do know now is where she was beforehand. It’s a club called
the GaGa, out on the Stillorgan Road, where she was with some of her student pals. We tracked one of them down last night and
she says Jesica left the place early to go off with some fella she picked up – an older guy, early tomid-twenties, we reckon. So, for the moment, tracking him down has got to be our number-one priority. Asap, alright?’
Asap, my arse, Mulcahy muttered to himself. Clearly, Cassidy had been watching too many American cop shows and they’d gone
to his head. The man was a complete and utter tool. The sullenness, the smart-arse remarks, the fists-first approach: all the
redneck, bullshit attitude that gave the Gardai a bad name. Mulcahy looked up and saw the sergeant pointing at a large question
mark written on the whiteboard behind him, beneath which were scribbled various notes and key words.
‘In terms of ID-ing this guy, so far we’ve only got the one vague description: tallish, good-looking, brown hair – but that’s
under club lights – and wearing a stripy shirt. That’s all. The good news is that me and the boss popped into the GaGa last
night and managed to score some CCTV from around the right time. We went through a couple of hours’ worth this morning and
managed to locate Jesica’s gang of students entering the venue at 9.35 p.m.’ – he pointed over his shoulder at a video printout
pinned on the board – ‘and, also, the rest of them leaving, as they claimed, at about 12.55 a.m. But, so far, no luck on Jesica
departing with the mystery fella. That means, Whelan, you and me’ll have the delightful job of trawling through the rest of
that CCTV footage this morning.’
A skinny, wavy-haired detective in his mid-thirties, a cheap grey suit and what looked like a GAA tie, groaned loudly, and
got a poke in the back from Hanlon sitting behind him.
‘Before we move on,’ Brogan interrupted, ‘Donagh and Maura were round at the school earlier, mopping up statements from the
other kids –
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