What the -
Bolger struggles, splutters, unable to speak. He is helpless, sandwiched between these two bodies. But then, for a fleeting moment – force and resistance in perfect balance – everything is still. He can hear them breathing. He can smell their cologne. He just can’t move.
Or understand.
Or think.
He feels a sudden extra stab of pressure in his lower back and a second later is released, the two men stepping away, peering around them, breathing heavily.
Bolger looks down at the carpet, shakes his head, says nothing. He doesn’t know what it is, but something makes him realise there’s nothing to say.
There’ll be no talking here.
Or eye contact.
Besides, he’s feeling dizzy now, and doesn’t want to talk.
He looks up, and around.
Lund and the tall, grey-haired man are already halfway along the corridor. The short stocky man with the buzz cut is still at the elevator. He holds out his free hand to Bolger and beckons him over.
Bolger feels dopey all of a sudden, and sluggish, a bit stupid even. He complies, steps over. The man with the buzz cut takes him by the elbow and guides him into the elevator car. The man then reaches in, presses a button and withdraws.
Bolger turns and stands gazing out. The now empty hotel corridor stretches off, it seems, to infinity, and as the elevator door closes, cutting off his view, he starts to feel a tremendous weight bearing in on his chest.
It turns out that the most recent stuff on the website Francesca shows Jimmy is at least two years old, and that any references he came across over the weekend on other websites were merely rehashed versions of what’s on this one. With a bit of gentle prodding, he also finds out from Francesca that today is the first time in over a year, possibly longer, that she and Pina have talked to anyone about the circumstances surrounding Gianni’s death – which maybe explains why they’re so eager to talk about it now. After the crash, there was a flurry of activity, people online and in the mainstream media speculating, theorising, asking questions, but a combination of the brick wall in Dublin and a battening down of the corporate hatches generally meant that no answers were ever forthcoming. Then the questions started to peter out. They finally stopped altogether and this long period of silence followed.
The stuff that is on the website relates mainly to a report Gianni wrote about three pharmaceutical companies – only one of which, as far as Jimmy can remember, was represented at the conference in Drumcoolie Castle. And the one that was there – from what he understands after a cursory glance at the report – would have been the least culpable in terms of any criticisms Gianni had made, and therefore the least likely to have wanted or needed to silence him.
When Jimmy points this out, Francesca makes the entirely reasonable point that neither of the other two companies, if they’d been intent on assassinating Gianni, would have necessarily had to have an official presence at the conference.
Indeed.
Except that it’s not a reasonable point at all. It’s more of a tipping point in fact, one between evidence-based supposition and classic paranoid theorising. Because there simply isn’t enough evidence here. Nor is Jimmy convinced of the basic premise anyway, that corporations go around assassinating people who criticise them. ‘And since the report was already out,’ he says, hammering the point home, ‘wouldn’t it have been too late anyway, a case of closing the stable door…’ Francesca looks at him, brow furrowed. ‘… after the horse has bolted.’
He then starts to explain the phrase, but she quickly nods, yes, yes, yes, and after a moment says what he takes to be its equivalent in Italian.
But now, having traded idioms, they fall into an awkward silence. Because with remarkable ease, he has undermined the basis of their suspicions and also more or less debunked what he himself came here hoping to find out in the first place.
The awkwardness continues as they move over to the table and start dinner.
When Francesca fills her mother in on what she and Jimmy have been saying, Pina shrugs and seems unfazed.
Francesca argues with her, making gestures, rolling her eyes. Pina responds in kind. It gets heated.
Jimmy puts his head down, and concentrates on the plate of pasta in front of him, spaghetti with mussels and clams. If he was looking for a distraction, he has certainly found one, because this is delicious. He wants to compliment Pina on it but the moment doesn’t seem right.
After a while, Francesca turns to him. She sighs dramatically. ‘Look, Pina is not so much concerned about a… what is that expression, a smoking gun?’
Jimmy nods.
‘Because she knows Gianni, knew Gianni, and is in no doubt that he was in danger in Ireland. His death only confirmed this.’
‘How does she know -’ Jimmy stops and turns to Pina. ‘How do you know that he was in danger?’
‘Because he told me.’
He looks at her, fork suspended over his plate. ‘Told you how?’
‘On the phone. We spoke. Every day.’
Jimmy waits. ‘And?’
Pina hesitates. She and Francesca exchange a look. Then Francesca turns to Jimmy. ‘The day before the crash Gianni said that he had discovered something. He was excited about it, but also angry. He said that just knowing what he knew put him in a very dangerous position.’
She takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly.
Again, Jimmy waits for more. ‘So? What was it?’
‘We don’t know. He didn’t say. He didn’t want to be specific over the phone.’
Jimmy puts his fork down. ‘There’s no mention of this anywhere, Francesca, at least not that I’ve seen. Not on that website, or in any of the reports.’
‘Yes, I know.’ She shrugs. ‘We did tell the police, here and in Ireland, again and again, but they ignored it, they said it wasn’t relevant. Gianni died in a crash, an accident, along with five others. And what we were saying, what we were implying, according to them, was ridiculous. They didn’t investigate anything.’
There is silence for a while. Then Pina says something to Francesca. She speaks quietly, and takes her time about it. After another silence Francesca turns to Jimmy. ‘My mother says she’s not a conspiracy theorist, she’s not obsessed with this, she’s not crazy. She just believes what her husband told her… and from everything she has seen and heard over the years, she also believes that none of this is implausible.’
Jimmy nods along, feeling a sudden weight of responsibility. ‘Of course. Of course.’
‘But I’m different,’ Francesca continues. ‘I am a little crazy, as you can see. I want to know the truth.’
‘That’s not crazy,’ Jimmy says, and pauses. ‘I want to know the truth, as well.’
But do they have anything? Not really. Pina’s conviction, based on… what? Love, trust, experience? And the claims of a drunken fool based on he doesn’t know what. Guilt? Maybe, but that’s not enough.
A smoking gun is precisely what they do need.
So far Jimmy has been very circumspect here about anything he might know – he hasn’t mentioned Larry Bolger, for instance, and isn’t going to – but he decides now to throw out at least some of what he’s got.
He turns to Pina. ‘Did Gianni mention any names when he spoke to you? People he was meeting. Clark Rundle, for instance?’
Pina considers this, but shakes her head.
‘Don Ribcoff?’
‘No.’
Francesca cuts in, ‘Who are these people?’