The coach bomber, p.18
The Coach Bomber, page 18
The DCI was happy despite the blunder of letting Devine in to kill their chief suspect in the case of the bombing, but everything was wrapped up and settling down. Of course, there’d be a proper trial, but Devine was pleading guilty and the bombing was attributed to McGovern.
There wasn’t a lot left to do. Devine even admitted ordering the kill on Dermot Fudge. A time when Devine stated he was going crazy and just needed answers.
Macleod felt very aloof from all of this. With Jane’s tender administrations, he had been relaxing, trying to let his head settle again. Erin McGinty was taking her kids and getting away from it all, telling Hope McGrath that she simply needed to be away. Her husband was dead, but at least she was getting clear of the lifestyle he’d been living and she felt safer. She would, of course, be back for the trial, but in the meantime, she advised she was on the up.
Macleod made it back into the office, simply for a visit, rather than to do any work. The team was delighted to see him. He chatted, had coffee, and took a scan over some rather unremarkable cases they were looking into. Before returning home, Hope said she didn’t want to see him for another couple of weeks. She was on top of it anyway and there was no need for the old man to be in. He agreed but checked Hope’s statement from Erin McGinty one more time before departing.
That night at home, Macleod had been looking up many different holiday destinations, but one struck him, and he turned to Jane. ‘How do you fancy going to Mexico? We could take a week, maybe two.’
‘Mexico? I’d love to. What are you going to do in Mexico?’
‘I just wish to get a little sun, somewhere quiet, sitting on the beach.’
‘You don’t like the beach,’ said Jane. ‘Why are you going to the beach?’
‘I need to rest. You like the beach. You have to force me to rest, get this head back where it should be.’
‘We can go to Mexico,’ said Jane, ‘but I think your head’s already where it should be.’ Macleod gave her a devious stare, but he knew she was on to something.
Macleod managed to get plane tickets out, and they flew to Mexico two days later. At first, they travelled to La Paz, before Macleod said he wanted to see the south of Baja California, and in a hire car, he drove all the way down to Cabo San Lucas. There in San Lucas, they managed to take up a small flat, and for a week, Macleod sat every day on the beach, on the pedregal plain, letting himself soak in the sun.
Beside him, Jane would pour sun cream on him, on herself, and together, they’d bake. The evenings were taken up with meals and short walks, and the only thing Jane had queried was what Seoras was really doing.
It was on a Tuesday, around 11:00 a.m., after lying on the beach, that Seoras stood up, looked down at Jane, and told her that he was going for a short walk.
‘And this is why we’re here,’ she said.
Macleod smiled. ‘Sorry, I have to do this.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what it is, but I know you have to do it, but I’ve got a free holiday from it, and I’ve got you to myself, after this next what, hour? So, go do it, Seoras. And when you’re done, come back here, and lie down beside me.’
The sand was immaculate, lying before an ocean of blue. There were little rocks, but Macleod strode towards some palm trees that led up to a number of houses and flats that reminded him of the 1970s. Every building seemed flat, but elongated, with the only tilted roofs being those of courtyards that were open. Otherwise, every roof seemed to be flat. Macleod made his way up the street that wound up the hill, and he recognised several places he’d walked past three days before. At the corner of one house, he stopped and saw a swimming pool at the rear.
There were two children playing, laughing as they threw water at each other, and then a small woman was there in a bikini. Macleod had only ever seen her inside her house, apparently agitated by the death of her husband. As he started to walk up the drive towards the house, he realised she looked a lot less tense. Macleod rang the doorbell and waited until Erin McGinty appeared from the side of the house.
‘Detective Inspector, what are you doing here?
‘Well, you weren’t going to come back to Scotland, were you? One of my sergeants said you were heading south, started to make sense. I might have been able to stop you but McGovern gave me a heck of a crack on the head and left my head swimming. Two weeks I couldn’t piece together anything. Then I thought I knew what was going on but I can’t prove it and I can’t do anything about it.’
‘This sounds bad, Inspector. Why are you here in Mexico? Do you mind if we sit somewhere? Around the back.’
Macleod made his way to the side of the house looking inside through any window at the quite stunning furnishings. ‘You’ve done all right for yourself, haven’t you? But then again, Eamon must have money put aside somewhere. Nice of him to. Maybe he did love you in his own way.’
Macleod caught a glimpse of anger from McGinty but she asked him to take a seat before disappearing inside the house and coming out with a pot of tea. ‘Some things you bring with you, don’t you?’ she said to Macleod. ‘But I’m afraid the milk’s rubbish. You’ll have to drink it black.’
Macleod didn’t want tea anyway, and it would probably sit there in front of him but he nodded. ‘You were very clever.’
‘Was I?’ said Erin McGinty.
‘Very. You realised the infatuation of McGovern. That’s when you were able to actually plan. There was a cost there, wasn’t there? McGovern didn’t come for cheap.’
‘You seem to know a lot, Inspector; why don’t you continue?’
‘You whored for McGovern and he was the one who got hold of the Semtex. He was the one who used Devine’s name. He was the one who brought it, but you were the one who planted it. You see, McGovern, a nasty piece of work, but blowing up a coach load of people… It didn’t sit with me, blowing up a coach load of people just to get a husband. He would have had an opportunity within the firm. He could have made it look like normal gang business, if it were his idea, he could have involved Declan O’Malley’s gang in a much stronger way but, no. A bomb right under the seat where he was sitting.
‘Who knew where your husband would be going that day? He was a careful man. He had to be doing what he did. You said to me he told you things. You understood a lot because you were his confidant, as much as you didn’t like him and what he did, as much as he treated you roughly, you were still the one he told.
‘You knew he’d be on the coach; therefore, you planted the bomb and you killed him but you made it look like a turf war. McGovern was quite happy to take out Frank Egg. I guess the two of you must have done that one. Bit of work to lift him up. I don’t know if McGovern got other people involved, called that revenge attack. Tit for tat or Devine said to do it. Half the people in these organisations don’t really know who says what. It’s just fed down, easy to do. Then you take out Devine’s girl.
‘That’s a stroke of genius and McGovern does it because he doesn’t like Devine either and he likes the rough stuff. That’s why his DNA’s on her. But the two of you killed her, bringing Devine into it and Devine goes after one of them at that point. Declan O’Malley doesn’t play ball but it doesn’t matter because you’ve set Devine off and then he’s killing Fudge; he’s coming for anyone. That’s the bit that McGovern was dumb about. He didn’t understand that as soon as the tale about the Semtex was out from us, he was a dead man. Lucky break that one, stopped you having to dispose of McGovern. But I reckon you had a back-up plan to dispose of him anyway.
‘Nobody should have known who got the Semtex, Inspector, but your tell-tale worked a treat.’
‘It nearly backfired on you though, didn’t it? McGovern was meant to come round to yours anyway and you would then call Devine. Devine was going to come round and kill him but McGovern got spotted because I’m not that slack. If a man’s on the loose, I’ll find him. Then I got hit on the head because Devine wouldn’t have gotten in that house with me being there. He got lucky but in truth for the rest of it, in a purely professional capacity, Mrs McGinty, I am impressed. I am impressed because while I know all these things, I can prove none of them. Tell me, did Eamon teach you how to clean up a crime scene?’
‘You don’t become the wife of someone like that and not have to do some of the dirty work at some point, Inspector,’ smiled Erin McGinty. ‘The thing is I didn’t want it, but he involved me, so I let him teach me how to do these things. I let him and because of that, I knew how I could plan his death, how to make it look like there was a gang war kicking it off.
‘As I said, in a professional sense, I’m impressed,’ said Macleod. ‘But understand this, you took over thirty people to their grave just to be here. What sickens me is you don’t even have a conscience about that.’
‘I have had plenty happen to me, and a little rain must fall into every life. I’d like to tell you it wasn’t worth it, Inspector, but it was. Look at me, look at them.’ She pointed at the kids splashing in the pool.
‘Oh, forgive me,’ said Macleod, rising. ‘I hope you choke in all this. I know I can’t prove what you’ve done, and professionally for me, that’s all right because you see, there’s always one that gets away, even if you know how they did it.’
‘I bet it eats at you, Inspector,’ said Erin McGinty, ‘I bet you it eats at you.’
Macleod stood up. ‘I’m not accustomed to being in shorts.’ He stared down at his feet, looking at the sandals and socks he had on. He turned back to the woman. ‘What you don’t get, is I don’t do this because I need justice to be served. It will be one far greater than I. No, I’ll go on and my conscience will be fine but one day, you’ll be called to reckon, and I hope you see the light before then.’ Macleod walked down the drive, hearing the jeers of Erin McGinty behind him, shouting at him how it would be a champagne breakfast for her.
He didn’t look back but continued back to the beach where he saw Jane continuing to sunbathe. When he reached his partner, he sat down and laid back beside her.
‘Well done, love,’ said Jane. ‘Well done. But tell me, will you be making a habit of this?’
‘Of what?’ asked Macleod.
‘Chasing your criminals to foreign parts.’
‘No,’ said Macleod.
‘Pity.’
‘Pity?’ queried Macleod. ‘Why?’
‘I’ve got a list of destinations you might think of trying.’
Read on to discover the Patrick Smythe series!
Start your Patrick Smythe journey here!
Patrick Smythe is a former Northern Irish policeman who after suffering an amputation after a bomb blast, takes to the sea between the west coast of Scotland and his homeland to ply his trade as a private investigator. Join Paddy as he tries to work to his own ethics while knowing how to bend the rules he once enforced. Working from his beloved motorboat ‘Craigantlet’, Paddy decides to rescue a drug mule in this short story from the pen of G R Jordan.
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Go to https://bit.ly/PatrickSmythe for your Patrick Smythe journey to start!
About the Author
GR Jordan is a self-published author who finally decided at forty that in order to have an enjoyable lifestyle, his creative beast within would have to be unleashed. His books mirror that conflict in life where acts of decency contend with self-promotion, goodness stares in horror at evil, and kindness blindsides us when we at our worst. Corrupting our world with his parade of wondrous and horrific characters, he highlights everyday tensions with fresh eyes whilst taking his methodical, intelligent mainstays on a roller-coaster ride of dilemmas, all the while suffering the banter of their provocative sidekicks.
A graduate of Loughborough University where he masqueraded as a chemical engineer but ultimately played American football, Gary had worked at changing the shape of cereal flakes and pulled a pallet truck for a living. Watching vegetables freeze at -40’C was another career highlight and he was also one of the Scottish Highlands “blind” air traffic controllers. These days he has graduated to answering a telephone to people in trouble before telephoning other people to sort it out.
Having flirted with most places in the UK, he is now based in the Isle of Lewis in Scotland where his free time is spent between raising a young family with his wife, writing, figuring out how to work a loom and caring for a small flock of chickens. Luckily, his writing is influenced by his varied work and life experience as the chickens have not been the poetical inspiration he had hoped for!
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Also by G R Jordan
G R Jordan writes across multiple genres including crime, dark and action adventure fantasy, feel good fantasy, mystery thriller and horror fantasy. Below is a selection of his work. Whilst all books are available across online stores, signed copies are available at his personal shop.
The Culling at Singing Sands (Highlands & Islands Detective Book 15)
A glamorous retirement village on an isolated island. A brutal killer culls the elderly starting with the oldest resident. Can Macleod discover the murderous motive and prevent the island graveyard from overflowing?
When the Isle of Eigg enjoys the opening of ‘The Singing Sands’ Later but Better Township’, little do they realise that death is only round the corner for the new arrivals. Joy turns to sorrow as old friends meet a bloody end, and DI Macleod and DS McGrath are dispatched to investigate. As a determined clientele and some unseasonal weather hamper the investigation, the detectives must look to the past to prevent the dispatching of those seen to be past their time.
Even in paradise you’re only one step from the grave!
The Hunted Child (Kirsten Stewart Thrillers #2)
A twelve-year-old witness to a drug killing goes on the run. The murderer puts a price on the child’s head. Can Kirsten Stewart pick up the girl’s trail, or will she meet a bloody end from the pursuing bounty hunters?
When a young girl inadvertently stumbles upon a drug gang execution, she sets in motion a brutal hunt like the Highlands has never seen. From farmland to coast, mountain to valley, no hiding place will bring a safe haven. But when Service operative Kirsten Stewart picks up the trail, she realises there’s more than one hand in play.
In her second solo novel, Kirsten has to rely heavily on her own instincts as she finds the shadowy world she now operates in becoming darker still. With the pressure of a child’s life in the balance, Kirsten has to draw on all her mental and physical resources, if she is to stop an innocent girl falling to a killer’s knife.
The bloody scramble for the innocent has begun…
Corpse Reviver (A Contessa Munroe Mystery #1)
https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/corpse-reviver-1
A widowed Contessa flees to the northern waters in search of adventure. An entrepreneur dies on an ice pack excursion. But when the victim starts moonlighting from his locked cabin, can the Contessa uncover the true mystery of his death?
Catriona Cullodena Munroe, widow of the late Count de Los Palermo, has fled the family home, avoiding the scramble for title and land. As she searches for the life she always wanted, the Contessa, in the company of the autistic and rejected Tiff, must solve the mystery of a man who just won’t let his business go.
Corpse Reviver is the first murder mystery involving the formidable and sometimes downright rude lady of leisure and her straight talking niece. Bonded by blood, and thrown together by fate, join this pair of thrill seekers as they realise that flirting with danger brings a price to pay.
Highlands and Islands Detective Thriller Series
https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/search?query=Highlands%20&%20Islands%20Detective%20Thriller&fcsearchfield=Series&seriesId=4537cd63-0683-56de-8a58-cc8a98e1e91f
Join stalwart DI Macleod and his burgeoning new DC McGrath as they look into the darker side of the stunningly scenic and wilder parts of the north of Scotland. From the Black Isle to Lewis, from Mull to Harris and across to the small Isles, the Uists and Barra, this mismatched pairing follow murders, thieves and vengeful victims in an effort to restore tranquillity to the remoter parts of the land.
Be part of this tale of a surprise partnership amidst the foulest deeds and darkest souls who stalk this peaceful and most beautiful of lands, and you’ll never see the Highlands the same way again
The Disappearance of Russell Hadleigh (Patrick Smythe Book 1)
https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/the-disappearance-of-russell-hadleigh
A retired judge fails to meet his golf partner. His wife calls for help while running a fantasy play ring. When Russians start co-opting into a fairly-traded clothing brand, can Paddy untangle the strands before the bodies start littering the golf course?
In his first full novel, Patrick Smythe, the single-armed former policeman, must infiltrate the golfing social scene to discover the fate of his client’s husband. Assisted by a young starlet of the greens, Paddy tries to understand just who bears a grudge and who likes to play in the rough, culminating in a high stakes showdown where lives are hanging by the reaction of a moment. If you love pacey action, suspicious motives and devious characters, then Paddy Smythe operates amongst your kind of people.
