CHAPTER TEN
Theo Petrakis was at the Sunnyvale crime scene when two burly figures ran up and boxed him in on either side.
"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" The smaller of the two said.
"Excuse me?"
"You fucking heard mate. What are you doing in this estate? How did you get in here?"
The two men were middle-aged, aggressive, bald, a little overweight. They looked like brothers.
Theo calmly took out his Europol identification.
"My name is Theo Petrakis. I'm an investigator with Europol. Who are you?"
"How did you get in here?" The taller one said.
"The same way the killers did. The same way any house thief would enter. The same way a 12 year old child looking for a lost football would enter."
He pointed to the wall behind him.
"You shouldn't be here Petrakis."
"Gentlemen, I will give you one more opportunity to identify yourselves. If you do not do so then I will consider this conversation over. Do you understand?"
The taller one took out his wallet, opened it and handed it to Theo.
"Pleased to meet you Sergeant Biggs. May I ask why you are not in uniform?"
"I live here Petrakis. This isn't my beat, it's my estate."
"Oh really? Nobody told me about this. Which house is yours exactly?"
Biggs was reluctant to answer.
"Why are you here Petrakis? Who said you could come down here without contacting the local Gardai?"
"Sergeant Biggs, I think we both know I'm allowed to go where I like in this country. This is a closed crime scene correct?"
Biggs grudgingly assented.
"The technical examination is complete so there is no evidence to contaminate. I just wanted to see the location for myself. So please do tell me, which house is yours."
Biggs gave a deep angry sigh then indicated the nearest house across the road from the small wooded area in which they stood.
"This one? Really? And you didn't hear or see anything take place on the night in question?"
"Is this an official interview Petrakis?"
"Please call me Theo Sergeant Biggs. May I call you Michael?"
"Sergeant Biggs will do. Now you answer me, is this official?"
"I'm here to help Sergeant. There is no need to be hostile. We are on the same side, remember? This can all be off record if you prefer."
"Come on Mike, tell this guy to fuck off before I lose me temper."
Theo showed no reaction.
"Look Mr. Petrakis, I don't want any trouble. All I'm asking for is a little professional courtesy. It would have been nice to know you were coming and then I could have met you in the station, escorted you here, briefed you on all the details before we got to the crime scene. Now you'll have to excuse my brother, he's not a member of the force. If you would like to make an appointment then I'd be happy to meet you sometime this week when you are free."
"Very good Sergeant I'll do that. Can I have your mobile number?"
"Just call the station and they'll take care of it."
Theo nodded and then left by the same way he had entered the estate. He found his rented car and drove back towards Dublin.
He would certainly need to speak to the local Gardai but information was best gathered fresh and raw, not pre-processed. He decided to go straight to the local station. Biggs had an attitude that spoke volumes. Theo assumed he was in trouble of some kind. It was more and more common these days, especially in countries where the financial crisis was biting the most. Perhaps some of the other Gardai would be easier to deal with. Even if they were no longer in charge of the investigation the local police were still the first on the scene and would know more about the area, the people and the estate than the more expert and professional Special Detective Unit would.
He found the station easily enough. It was a typical small town Garda station; a low squat building with a couple of aged squad cars parked badly outside. The blue lantern of An Garda Siochana bolted over the entrance was cracked and peeled.
Theo parked his shining 2013 Audi TT convertible next to a dented and scratched Garda Fiat Ulysse with a 2003 license plate.
The glass in the main entrance window was webbed with fractures and the hinges creaked and groaned as he pushed the front door in. There was no-one at the small desk behind the hole in the wall.
"Hello, hello? Anybody there?"
A voice came from a back room.
"Hold your horses there. What's the emergency? I'll be with you in a minute."
Theo sat down in the one rickety chair provided in the reception area and checked his phone. There were two messages.
One from his bank. It was short.
'Call us today.' It read.
Malaka.
The other from Mirielle. Even shorter.
'Call me.'
He replaced the phone to his waistcoat pocket and looked up to see a man in his late 50s, heavy-set, bald with back and sides graying hair and a friendly if canny look on his face.
"What can I do for you young man?" He asked.
"Is sergeant Biggs on duty?"
The officer opened his eyes wide in exaggerated surprise and gave a broad friendly smile.
"Oh be the hokey! That depends now on who wants to know. To whom do I have the pleasure of addressing myself?"
"Theo Petrakis. Europol." Theo handed him his official identification. The Garda took the small laminated card and held it far away from his eyes, peering, as though at a mystery.
"You'll have to forgive me Mr. Souvlaki.."
"Pe. Tra. Kis."
"..oh, excuse me. Mr. Ke. Pra. Tis..."
"Just call me Theo."
"All right then, Theo. You'll forgive me but I can't read a feckin' word of this so I'm afraid I won't be able to give you any official assistance here until I can have it confirmed via the Garda HQ."
He returned the ID to Theo.
"That's quite alright. I fully understand. I was simply calling by in courtesy to let you know that I will be investigating the recent incident in the Sunnyvale estate."
"After I have confirmed it with Garda HQ obviously."
"Obviously. Would you like to call them now?"
"Well, I would love to do that Theo but just at the moment, would you believe it, our phones are down."
He smiled an incredulous smile.
"Are your mobile phones down too?"
"Well, that would hardly be very official now would it? To use a mobile phone to call the boss up in HQ, like."
Theo looked a little harder at the ageing Garda and then smiled.
"You must be as far up to your neck in this as Sergeant Biggs."
The man froze.
"Now you get the hell out of this station right now Petrakis, before I make an arrest. Do you think I'm some kind of idiot? Sergeant Biggs has already informed us of your activities in the Sunnyvale estate this evening, nosing around that crime scene without any official sanction. Such a serious breach of procedure could easily render evidence gathered there invalid. You might find yourself taken off this case if you aren't careful."
"You must be very, very afraid of someone to risk this kind of talk Garda ... what is the name?"
"Garda Thicke you cheeky little shit. T. H. I. C. K. E. I'm not afraid to give you my name. Now you get out of here Petrakis. I don't care who you are. I may be up to my neck in shite, I'm a fuckin' Garda after all, but you are very much in over your head boy, even though you might not realize it yet."
The big man began to shuffle around the counter and squeeze through the small entrance into the reception area. He was slow on his feet. Theo stood up sharply and adjusted his suit and tie.
"There's no need officer, I'm on my way. But of course you know I'll be back. I've dealt with small time police tangled up with crime in dozens of countries all over the world. The threats always come first, then the defiance and finally the begging to be saved."
Thicke stopped in the tiny entrance as though wedged into place. The station had been built for the smaller generations of the past. He stared at the neat and diminutive man in front of him.
"Just remember that we were once on the same side and that I can help you when the time comes."
"Just go. Go on. Go on now. Get your fuckin' documents in order from Phoenix Park and I'll be happy to show you ‘round but you'll have nothing today, so go on, get out of my station."
"As you wish."
Theo returned to his car, pulled out swiftly and with some sharp revs disappeared around the corner under the glare of Garda Thicke.
Once the shiny Audi was out of sight he made his heavy way back into the station and fished an old battered phone from his pocket and selected a speed dial number that picked up quickly.
"Give me the boss."
He drummed his thick fingers nervously on the desk as he waited.
"Howya. Yeah it's Thicke. Garda Thicke. I think we have some fuckin' trouble comin' our way."
"Oh Yeah?" The voice growled at the other end.
"Fuckin' Europol, if you can believe it. Is this whole shithouse going to come down around our fuckin' heads now?"
"His name Theo by any chance?"
"That's right. Theo Petrakis. How did you know that boss?"
"Don't you worry Paddy. You just make sure I can keep on doing what I do best and don't you worry your pretty little head mate. Nothing, and I mean nothing at all is gonna change. Where's the little shit now?"
"Well sure he's gone anyway. Driving a silver Audi TT convertible, license plate 13D76830. Rented. Had the Europecar sticker in the back window. I can trace him if you want."
"Don't bother Mick. I'll find him. Good work. Now fuck off."
The line went dead. Thicke gave the old phone an evil look then put it back in his pocket.
"Cunt." He muttered under his breath.
Theo deleted the first message in his phone as he drove north on the M12 towards Dublin and then called Mirielle. She picked up instantly.
"Theo?"
There was always a seductive laugh in her voice, even if she spoke only a single word. Mirielle had retained all the charm of her youth despite her current success and status. She was in her early thirties and a meteoric rise to success had angered and frustrated many of her male colleagues. She didn't care though. And neither did Theo. It was one of the reasons she liked him.
"Mirielle, it's me. What is it?"
Her voice became instantly serious. Business, not pleasure.
"Theo, thank you for calling me back."
"What is it Mirielle?"
"Theo .... you know I hate to even talk about this."
He went silent, his whole body tensing in anticipation. He knew what was coming. Over the years it had always been like this; the news he longed for most of all and which carried with it the most fear. Mirielle was one of the few who knew the whole story, gradually over time she had won his trust where few others had. A little at a time he had revealed to her the painful memories. She rarely spoke of it and he appreciated this. It was always he who did the talking, always him who initiated the conversation and then only very rarely.
The exception was when there was news, a clue, a connection, a hint of warmth on the trail. Only Mirielle was in a position to have and to share this information with him. He knew it pained her to bring these things up at all and loved her even more because of it.
"Tell me."
"It's about her."
"Where?"
"Well, of course we don't know exact locations."
He took a deep breath. Of course not. That would be impossible. After all this time. But anything will do. Any hint or clue.
"But there is a possibility. A connection."
"I'm listening."
"It's in Ireland."
The speedometer was already at 180kmph and increasing. Theo didn't even see the mobile speed camera as he powered by.
"Where?"
"It is a little town to the south of Dublin."
"Where?" His voice was almost a whisper.
"It's Darklow."