CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Peadar lowered his head but looked furtively at the sharply dressed Theo.
"Can I have another one of them funny cigarettes?"
Theo lit another Karelia Slim and passed it to Peadar who took a long, appreciative drag on the harsh Greek cigarette. The frightened and nicotine deprived man coughed his approval.
"It was very dark Theo." He said. "Me and Michael had been out for about 20 minutes and we were just passing the spot where the body was found."
"In front of Sgt. Biggs' house?"
"That's right, almost directly in front. We heard something in the bushes so we decided to go in and have a look. After that I didn't see a thing. They came out of nowhere."
"They?"
"Yeah."
"How many?"
"No idea. More than two anyway. I was boxed in the head and got knocked out for how long exactly I don't know. When I woke up I couldn't move. I was tied to a tree with my shirt and trousers off. I could see Michael. He was trying to scream but his mouth was stuffed. Jesus... they were carving him up."
"How many? What did they look like?"
"It was so dark, fuck it, there could have been two or three with him alone. They all wore black. I thought I heard some foreign, you know? Like east European or something, but then I heard a voice that sounded English so I can't really tell you."
"Male or female?"
"Sorry mate, I just don't know. Right after that I felt a blade go into me, slicing up my arm. I tried to scream but then I realized my mouth was stuffed as well. Fuck me, the pain. I'll never forget it. Look, maybe this isn't such a good idea. These people were sick, fuckin' sick. I just don't want them near me... near my family. Go on Theo. I understand you're doing your job but I have nothing more to say."
"OK. If you insist Peadar, but just one thing before I go. Something you should know."
"I don't want to know."
"Michael is a good friend of yours, true?"
"Yeah, the best. Since we were kids. And?"
"Did they tell you what they took from him?"
"Did they need to? I can see what they took off him."
"I don't think you can."
"I don't get you? What do you mean? They took skin off him, the fuckin' sick bastards."
"They took a little more than skin Peadar."
"No, no. No more. What? What did they take?"
"Your friend only has one kidney left. Didn't they tell you?"
He went pale. Ashen and then his face screwed up in revulsion.
"Why?"
"Why do you think? Somebody somewhere needs a kidney and has the money to pay. Unfortunately this wasn't all they took."
"Don't, don't...." Peadar's breath was getting short. "Go on, tell me."
Theo hated every minute, but if he could get any useful piece of information he had to do it. It was his job.
"You were very, very lucky Peadar, they just took skin from you. You must have had some nice artwork on your arms."
"What about Michael, what else?"
"Look at his bandages."
"I can see them. What is it?"
"Someone was looking for eyes Peadar. And they had the money to pay."
"No... please God... please, that's not true ...."
"Look at the bandages. They took your friends eyes Peadar. He will never see again. Never see you, his wife, his children."
Peadar was crying now. Incoherent. Filled with rage, shock, fear, hatred, remorse.
"That fuckin' idiot Small. Dennis fucking Small."
"Who is Dennis Small?"
"Dennis? He's no-one. Just some stupid little cunt on the estate who always has to be sticking his nose into things. A fuckin' skinny little do-gooder who's afraid of his own shadow and calls the Gardai if a dog pisses on his front lawn."
"What does he have to do with all this?
"He's the idiot who got us to go out on the neighborhood watch patrol. Now Michael is blinded for life."
"Do you have contact details for Mr. Small?"
"Sure, in my phone you can find him in the address book under the 'idiots' folder."
"If he's such a fool then why did you go out to do the patrol?"
"Well, yeah, he is an idiot but he's often right about stuff and he does make sure there's never any graffiti or litter on the estate. If anyone looks suspicious he's the first on the phone to the Gardai. If you have a problem with a neighbor then he's the man to call and he'll always get something done. He's a twat, but he's a useful twat."
Theo scrolled down through the contacts list under idiot. They were ordered by last name. There were only two names under S; Small, Dennis and Shark, Sammy The.
Theo put the details into his own phone.
"Oh yeah, and Derek Reilly. He was big into it and he's a hard man. Very into keeping the estate safe. If Dennis is the organizer of stuff on the estate Derek is the enforcer, the muscle. Kids rarely make the mistake of vandalizing anything in Sunnyvale unless they are absolutely sure they can get away with it. Nobody messes with Derek and he was into this patrol idea. His number is in there too if you want it, only he's not under idiots, he's in the regular folder.
Theo took his details as well.
"Mike Biggs was the only one dead against it. He's usually into this kind of civic action, co-operation with the Gardai kind of thing, but I suppose he knew how serious this crime was."
"This is Sergeant Michael Biggs?"
"The very same."
Theo took his personal number as well.
"Are you done with that phone yet?"
"Of course." Theo replaced it in the locker drawer.
Peadar drew deep on the Karelia Slim again.
"What else do you want to know?"
"Tell me about the tattoos."
"You mean our tattoos?"
"That's right. There must have been something different. Harvesters rarely hit twice like this in two locations so close together and so soon one after the other. In fact, it is unique. I need to know why they came back and why they attacked the two of you. There has to be a reason. You have to tell me what was on your tattoos and you have to tell me why they picked you. What is it that you and Michael have in common?"
"Jesus, the tattoos were nice, but for Christ’s sake, who would want them?"
Theo waited.
"They only took the tattoos you got in Thailand right, nothing else?"
"That's right. Anything that looked Cambodian or Thai."
"What do you mean 'looked'?"
"Well it was Travis who gave us the idea to go to Thailand. You should see his tats. He's covered in the real thing and he knows his tats inside out. He told us where to go in Bangkok and he gave us one or two himself as well. He's bloody good. We probably didn't even need to go that far to get them, there's nothing wrong with his."
"Travis is your tattoo artist in Darklow?"
Peadar nodded.
"That's right. Tiny little shop, just off Main. St, up the lane way after the T-junction. He's local. From Dublin originally though, like half the town."
"What kind of tattoos did Travis give you?"
"Warrior tattoos. For protection he said. We just got them because they look the bleedin' business, you know?"
"I need his number. Do you have it?"
"Be my guest."
"What else do you and Michael have in common?"
"We both live on the estate."
Theo waited. There was something else. Something was being held back.
"I need the truth Peadar. Trust me, if they wanted something more from you then they will be back and I won't be able to help you."
Peadar took a nervous puff on his cigarette. "There is one thing, alright? We both owe money."
"It's Ireland Peadar. Like Greece, everyone owes money."
"Yeah but not like we owe it. There's a guy, an English guy, he's been lending money to everyone around here for the last year or so. His office is the Cash for Gold place at the crossroads on Main Street. Sammy is his name."
"Tell me more about him."
"Well, I don’t know his full name but Sammy the Shark is what he goes by. He's a fuckin' scumbag but people need the money, even people who look like they don't. This recession has everyone running from banks and moneylenders."
"So what's different about this guy?"
"He's a fuckin' psycho is the difference. Most of them are just ordinary hard men but not Sammy. He seemed OK in the beginning, like any of them, but once the debts began to go bad he started getting very heavy. He'd send around his two guys to smash up you, your house or both. No problem battering your family either. No shaggin' mercy at all.
"Anyway, Michael and I both owe him a few grand each. Not that I borrowed that much, only a few hundred originally, for the kids holy communion, but fuckin' hell he packs on the interest and if you don't have something to give him every week his guys go mental. Now Michael wouldn't be easily pushed around and he had been making payments regularly, up until he lost his job that was. He was laid off three months ago. Sammy got wind of it and sent his guy around to see about getting the debt paid off with his severance package. Michael's initial debt with Sammy was about €6000. Enough to catch up on 6 months mortgage arrears in one go, get the debt collectors off his back. Then he could manage a restructured mortgage, interest only for a year and pay off Sammy on his terms over the course of six months. In the meantime, hope and pray that things would get better."
"So what went wrong?"
"Michael was three months into his deal with Sammy. His principal amount was down to just three grand and he was on target. But apparently Sammy doesn't like that. He likes to have ongoing payments. Once you're in, you're in. Like fuckin' protection money. Now Michael worked for a local company that processes credit card transactions. The lay-offs and the severance packages were high profile. Michael got just under €10000 for all his years there. Not much, but something to tide him over. He figured he would pay off Sammy in one go and have seven thousand left over to pay the mortgage for a few months while he looked for another job, retrained, whatever. At his age not much chance really, but Jesus you can't give up, can you?"
Theo nodded in assent.
"So suddenly Sammy couldn't be reached. Michael tried going down to the Cash for Gold place but they told him to fuck off basically, that he needed to deal directly with Leo, the greasy little fucker that handles our debt. But Leo wasn't picking up the phone so that was that. Michael left a message and waited. Two weeks go by. Michael is wondering what's going on. Leo hasn't contacted me either so we are wondering what the fuck is going on. Eventually we both get calls from someone called Francois. He tells us we are two weeks over due and our debts, which had both been at around the €3000 mark are now over €13000 and weekly payments have been upped from just over €250 per week to over €1000 a week to get them paid off within term."
"I don't understand? Where does €13000 come from €3000?"
"The original interest rate was 12.5% on each weekly payment of €250. But you miss a week and they add on 100%. You can do the bit of maths yourself."
Theo nodded. He understood very well the mathematics of creditors and moneylenders. Despite his well paid position and generous expense account his taste or quality and preference for excellence meant that he was always running just behind his ability to pay.
"Michael didn't have the money to give them. Neither do I. So what do you do?"
"Why didn't you go to the police?"
Peadar took a nervous drag on his cigarette.
"Well, I tried that."
"And what happened?"
"Well, they said they couldn't help us unless a crime had been committed and so far none had."
"Had you been threatened?"
"Not explicitly, and even if I had I wouldn't have been able to prove it."
"Which Garda did you speak to?"
"I spoke to Mike Biggs. Sure I know him from the local soccer club. Our kids go to the same school."
"Did he offer to investigate Sammy's business? If he is an illegal loan shark then there is a lot the Gardai can do."
"I said it to him."
"And what did he say?"
"I've never seen anything like it. I know Mike well. I don't drink with him or have him over to the house but I've known him for years. He went ballistic. Told me to fuck off out of it and leave police business to the professionals. He said I should come back if I had some evidence to the allegations. It was fucking mad."
"Why do you think this happened?"
Peadar looked nervous again.
"I don't want to comment on that. I don't know. But let me tell you about Michael. He told me the cops would be a waste of time and he was right. He told Francois to go fuck himself and that if he wanted Leo's usual payment for the last two weeks he should come and get it. Otherwise he could go and get fucked."
"What did Francois do?"
"He just laughed and told him he better have the money in 48 hours or else."
"Or else what?"
"Nothing. He didn't say. That was the night of the first murder."
"So you had another 24 hours to get the money together."
"That's right."
"So why were you out doing a neighborhood watch patrol?"
"The murder made us nervous. Couldn't exactly say why but Michael felt we could be better sticking together with the patrol group, especially Derek Reilly. It would be unlikely Francois or Leo would come looking for money with so much action on the estate."
Theo let silence hold for a while, allowing Peadar to finish his cigarette.
"Do you think it was his guys who did this to you?"
"I don't know. I didn't think about it until now. I didn't recognize any of them. But being in hospital won't stop him sending his guys around to collect. I have to get out of here and get some money together... before they..."
He began to choke up.
"My kids..."
Theo had heard enough.
"OK Peadar. Thank you very much for your cooperation. Don't worry. You did the right thing. There's nothing you can do here, but Sammy is going go to be very occupied for the next few days I can guarantee it."
"Please don't go near that guy Theo, unless you know for sure you have something. He'll fuckin' ruin us and you as well if you mess around with him."
"He's a small fish my friend." Theo gave a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. When I approach him it will be with good reason. You and your family are safe. Sammy is local, a little guy, but he has gone too far and this has already gone well beyond Sergeant Mike Biggs and Darklow Garda Station. It is out of your hands now."
Peadar didn't look convinced.
"You rest now Peadar, just relax and try to recover. If you think of anything else, or if Michael revives and can speak please give me a call right away. Take this."
Theo held out his card but Peadar didn't move.
"All due respect there Theo, but I don't want that thing anywhere near me."
Theo nodded, replaced the card in his pocket and wrote his number down on a paper napkin instead.
"Anything at all occurs to you, just call."
An hour later he was coming into Darklow again on the north exit. The Europol database revealed a little more about Gino Ngata, aka Sammy the Shark. The pseudonym, it turned out, was a common one used by loan-sharks in the East End of London. Those using the name were many, but those using the name who also held a connection to human trafficking, prostitution and more specifically to the skin-trade, were a much more exclusive group. In all, they numbered just four. Of these, two were currently doing time, one was known to be still active in London and a fourth had gone under the radar during the course of the last 12 months. This latter was a convicted pimp, an ex or perhaps still current member of the notorious C-Block gang of Bethnal Green, a suspected pedophile, rapist and drug peddler. Direct connection to the international skin-trade and human organ trafficking was a recent addition to his portfolio of accomplishments.
This individual was possibly off radar as a result of internecine strife within the C-Block or for falling foul of any one of the various killer whales that this particular little fish may have been sharing the pond with.
Interpol, it seemed, was already on the trail of this incarnation of Sammy the Shark where he had become invisible to Europol 12 months previously.
Theo swiped his smart phone and the soft voice of detective Melinda Casey came to his ear.
"Theo?"
"Ciao Melinda, I have a question for you."
"Fire away."
"Ever heard of Gino Ngata?"
"I think so, yeah. Wasn't he an Italian pop star or something? From the 80s?"
"There is an international warrant for his arrest."
"Really? His singing wasn't that bad!"
"He's not a pop star Melinda. He's an ethnic Maori small time organized crime boss and seemingly a very big time psychopath."
"Oh." She felt like a fool. Worse than that, she was blushing. Luckily she was on the phone to Theo and not with him in person.
"Don't worry. I also have not heard of him before today. How about Sammy the Shark? Familiar with the name?"
"No, sorry."
"He was a popular crooner from the 1960s."
"Really?"
"No, not really. It's an alias we think Gino Ngata is using here in Ireland. Can you run a check on it for me?"
"Certainly. Of course. I'm at my desk, I'll do it right now."
I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot. Melinda berated herself.
"I'll call you back as soon as I have something."
"I'll stay on the line if you don't mind."
"OK. Who is this guy anyway?"
"He's a loan-shark in Darklow where the skin murder and the assaults took place."
"The country is full of low-lives like these at the moment."
"I know. It is the same in Greece. Parasites who feed off the poor after the banks have already stripped them of everything they possess."
"I'm not getting anything here. What's his connection to the case?"
"I'm not sure yet. He is involved in skin trade and the two assault victims in Sunnyvale owed him money."
"You think that's why they were targeted?"
"I'm not certain. Anything is possible, but for sure he will know something."
"I'm surprised there’s nothing on him here."
"Don’t be. He’s a professional and has been evading Europol and Interpol successfully for the last 12 months. "
"Still.... "
"There may be more to this than just organized crime by the way. Whatever the explanation something here just doesn't add up. Usually skin-trade victims don't leave remains. Harvesters are careful to use everything valuable and then destroy whatever is left. If Sammy is really a skin-trader then you can solve half the missing persons cases of the last 12 months in one go."
Melinda felt her stomach tighten, almost to nausea. She had worked many cases and was a seasoned officer and detective, but this kind of serial murder and mutilation was new to her. Theo continued.
"Healthy adults of sound mind simply disappear and it is a mystery to all concerned. There is nothing to bury, nothing to mourn, not even the certainty of the person being alive or dead."
"Well he's in a good location for his business." Melinda said. "The Wickford Mountains are a graveyard for the disappeared The proximity to Dublin makes them a perfect spot for bodies to go away forever. I used to go on picnics in the Wickford hills with my family when I was a child. Then I used to go hill-walking there when I was a student. When I was a Garda I used to go for drives to get my mind off the job. Since I started police detective work in Dublin I don't go there any more Unless it’s work."
Theo didn't say anything. He knew only too well the effects a life mired in crime had on people. He personally didn't like waterfronts, forests, docklands, warehouses. The list went on. Even airports brought the horrors of his work life to mind. One reason he liked to fly privately whenever he could.
"The one certainty we have here is the ongoing lucrative trade in skin and body parts and the occasional interception of goods in transit. We know that such things have been coming from Ireland. Without this knowledge it would be questionable if the trade even existed here at all."
Melinda took a hard swallow.
"What does it mean?"
"To leave a skinned and hollowed out cadaver in almost full view on an Irish housing estate in a small town is either some very sloppy workmanship or something very intentional and very sinister."
"OK. Do you want Tom and I go down there and interview this guy with you?"
"Actually I would prefer if it was just you and I."
Melinda's throat went dry. She felt butterflies. She wanted this, but it terrified her, for reasons she didn't want to share with Theo Petrakis.
"But not yet. Hold off. Don't mention him to anybody yet, I don't want some clumsy attempt at intimidation from your department."
She breathed a sigh of relief.
"Let me contact the local Gardai anyway, they might know something about his activities."
"Don't do that either. The local Gardai won't tell you anything."
"Don't be silly Theo, this is Ireland, not some corrupt third world country."
Theo bit his tongue. Metaphorically.
"Trust me Melinda, they won't tell you a thing and we do not wish to alert him to our investigation. Not in this way at least. If this is the same Sammy the Shark, Gino Ngata, then he is wanted already on several international warrants in jurisdictions where the death penalty is applicable. It can be assumed that he will not willingly be taken alive. He is thought to be responsible for several police deaths internationally. If the local Garda force were to confront him, and I don't believe they should, they would be in great danger from Sammy and his associates."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Interpol is already monitoring him. Can you find out who is liaising with them from the Irish police force?"
"That would be us."
"I don't understand. I thought you had never heard of him."
"I haven't. I mean that there is no such investigation. If there was then I would know about it already. We are the Interpol and Europol liaison unit so there must be some mistake, I was just speaking to Interpol...."
The north exit for Darklow came up ahead.
"Wait Melinda, I'm entering Darklow now. I need to find a place to stay." It had been a long day, beginning with his press conference in Lyon, flying to Santorini for love games with Mirielle, then to Dublin and the Phoenix Park Headquarters, straight to Darklow and Sunnyvale from there. Driving back to Dublin to interview Peadar Crony and now back to Darklow again. He suddenly realized how exhausted he was.
"Just check to see if there is something you are missing, if Interpol has only recently contacted you. Otherwise don't mention a word to anyone. I'll call you back tomorrow. Ciao Melinda."
"Theo, wait ...." He hung up.
Melinda was mystified. She tried to call him back but he didn't pick up. What did he think he was going to do in Darklow at 11pm on a Tuesday night?