‘Pretty much.’
‘What about after, when Gillick took you for a spin?’
‘Nothing, no. He wanted me to go see Saoirse Hamilton, I was the last person to see her son alive.’
‘What’d she say?’
‘What you’d expect. She wanted to know what kind of form he was in, why he might’ve wanted to jump. I didn’t tell her anything I hadn’t already told you.’
‘And that’s all you have?’
‘Far as they’re concerned, I’m the hired help. Not the type that gets confided in. All I can tell you is that they were both asking me pretty much the same questions you are, wondering if Finn said something. But separately, yeah? Gillick quizzing me on the way out there, Saoirse Hamilton waiting until Gillick was out of the room before she started in on me. Like they were worried Finn was saying something he shouldn’t.’
We were stuck in traffic, Hughes Bridge a bottle-neck.
‘Now I know he was talking to CAB,’ I said, ‘it makes more sense. What I don’t get is what was in it for Finn.’
Tohill nodded. ‘You’re right, you don’t get that. How are you fixed now with Gillick?’
‘Great, yeah. Last night he offered me a job. Promised to take me away from all this.’
‘What kind of job?’
‘Oh, y’know. Evictions, debt collections, that class of a lark. Generalised thuggery. I’m guessing he’s concerned his boy Jimmy might keel over from ’roid rage one of these days.’
‘His boy Jimmy being James Callaghan, aka Limerick Jim.’
‘The very man.’
‘I doubt you’d be replacing him, Rigby. Not unless you’re hiding some serious lights under your bushel.’
‘I could learn to use a knife. How hard could it be?’
‘Harder than pulling a trigger, I’d say.’ A grating now in his tone. ‘For one, you need to get up close, make it personal.’ He looked across, a bleak quality in his eyes suggesting he’d like nothing more than to put the hard old boot of his face right through mine. ‘Besides, you wouldn’t have our friend Limerick Jim’s range. His depth, maybe, but until you’ve blown a car bomb outside a hospital’s ER department you’re only in the ha’penny place.’ The cigarillo switched sides. ‘Say you were to take Gillick up on his offer, though. Sit down with him, have a chat about this job.’
‘Work some freelance, sure. All wired for sound, no doubt.’
He shrugged. ‘You want to volunteer, great. It’d set my mind at ease, I wouldn’t have to worry about how maybe you’re onside with Gillick. Leaving my mind so placid, maybe, that it’d let that obstruction of justice charge sink all the way down to the murky depths.’
‘You want me to tout?’
He winced, inhaling in a little hiss. ‘Tout’s an ugly word, Rigby.’
‘It’s an ugly business.’
‘It is that,’ he conceded. ‘Was it any more handsome when you were calling yourself a private eye, got paid to blow the whistle?’ He flicked some ash. ‘Didn’t think so. And anyway, it’s no uglier than a bullet in the back of the head.’
‘And there’s the threat.’
‘Absolutely. Only it’s not coming from me.’
‘So who?’
He jammed the cigarillo in the corner of his mouth, talked around it. ‘Gillick’s lodged a proposal at the Town Hall, wants to build a village down at the docks.’
‘I heard.’
‘From Finn.’
‘Yeah, but he reckoned it was a bust. Five years ago, okay. But now? Who’s going to fund that kind of development? Who’d buy into it?’
‘Finn mention anyone else involved?’
‘Nope.’
‘Any ideas?’
‘I don’t move in those kind of circles, Tohill.’
‘Me and you both.’ A rueful grin as he worked the solidarity angle. I rubbed at my cheek where his snotter had landed. The grin died fast. ‘Look, all I’m asking is if Finn mentioned any names,’ he said. ‘Or anything at all that might help us pull a thread.’
‘What kind of thread?’
‘Gillick’s name is all over the planning applications, but we know he doesn’t have the capital to carry it off on his own. Like you say, he’s into debt collection now, scraping what he can out of the Hamiltons to keep NAMA at bay.’
‘You’re saying, I should nail down the contract on this job he’s offering.’
He scratched his jaw, the fingernails blunt and faintly yellow. ‘Gillick’s pulling strings behind a research-development company set up to pursue the proposal. Said company being the kind, you’ll get a tan if you want to sign the AGM’s minutes. There isn’t a single connection to Hamilton Holdings.’
‘The rat deserts the sinking ship. So what?’
‘Except Gillick’s the solicitor for Hamilton Holdings, covers their whole portfolio. Including the PA building.’
‘Liquidating assets on the sly. Doing NAMA’s job for them.’
‘Sure. But who’s buying?’
‘No one, according to Finn.’
‘No one official, anyway. And Gillick’s a big man, Rigby. Throws a lot of shade. So you tell me why he’d want to keep his backers’ money out of sight.’
‘I’d imagine it’s dirty.’
He grunted. ‘Okay, progress at last. Next question: why’s Finn Hamilton a midget in the morgue?’
I flipped my smoke out the window. ‘Maybe he couldn’t take the pressure of touting.’
‘Finn was remarkably cool about helping us with our inquiries. A model fucking citizen, that lad.’
‘Finn’s the kind, he’d be too lazy to let it show.’
‘You think?’ A careless shrug. ‘Me, I got the impression he liked it. Got off on the kick. You see it a lot, people think they’re playing God. A little power goes a long way.’
Sounded like Finn, alright. Something slimy squirming in my guts as we turned right at Feehily’s Funeral Home, towards the hospital. Tohill cut left for Rasharkin and then we were crawling along in second gear, a funeral at St Joseph’s Church spilling out, more traffic backed up. We inched by, rolled on down the hill to Rasharkin. Tohill pulled up opposite Abbott’s beside the alleyway that cut into the estate. I released the safety belt. ‘One thing,’ he said, his jaw set hard.
‘What’s that?’
‘When you were up there last night, talking about nothing with Finn. You see any binoculars?’
‘The infrareds? Sure. I used them myself after Gillick left. So don’t go trying to nail me for-’
‘They were gone by the time we got up there.’
‘Maybe he’d put them away.’
‘We tossed the place, looking for infrared binoculars specifically. No go.’
‘Why the binoculars?’
‘Because Finn saw something one night through them. The landing, we assume, of what’s known as undisclosed imports. Very probably coke or smack. This being the added bonus,’ he said, ‘to Gillick’s proposal to rejuvenate the docks. They’ll have privately owned facilities, harbour masters recruited for their ability to look the other way. Warehouses guarded by their own security firm. Point being, if there’s no infrareds, how’ll we prove Finn saw what he saw?’
‘How could you prove it anyway? Put a corpse on the stand?’
‘If someone took the infrareds, there’s a reason they took them. If we find out who, it’s a thread. Pull that, things might start to fall apart.’ He closed his eyes, pinched the corners. ‘So that’s where we are. Or were, until Finn went out that fucking window.’
‘I’m still not seeing what it has to do with me.’
‘You were there.’
‘Okay. But Finn told me nothing about any of that shit. All I saw was a guy planning for a big future, then taking a dive.’
‘Maybe, before he went, he told you what he’d seen.’
‘He told me nothing.’
‘Sure. But if you say he did, how can they prove otherwise?’
‘First I’m touting, now I’m perjuring myself. Is that it?’
‘They’d be Finn’s words, your name on them. Confirming his statement.’
‘Fuck that.’
‘Worst case scenario, we get an injunction against Gillick, tie him up.’
‘Stymie the development.’
‘Indefinitely, yeah. We have precedent, so we’re solid there.’
‘Nice job.’
‘Could be, yeah. All we need is-’
‘I mean, your job. It’s a nice job.’