I led her into the flat, got her a solid drink.
She took the drink, tears rolled down her cheeks, made a very soft plink against the rim of the glass. What could I say?
The utterly lame,
“It’s going to be all right.”
Yeah, that would fly.
I said,
“It’s going to be all right.”
She gulped the drink, a moment, and then color returned to her cheeks.
When mega-comfort was necessary, the very devil poisoned my soul. I asked,
“How is Sean?”
She was stunned, if more stunning were even possible. She near whimpered,
“Who?”
“Your husband, you know, the guy you forgot to mention.”
Fuck.
It looks bad.
It was. She got to her feet, swayed.
The doorbell rang.
She said very quietly,
“Maybe it’s news of Joffrey.”
It wasn’t.
Kiki.
The women stared at each other, not in friendly fashion.
Marion asked,
“Who’s she?”
She said,
“I’m his wife.”
How valour clothed in courtesies
Brings down the haughtiest house.
20
I found myself in Freeney’s, a quiet pub on Quay Street. The tourists stroll right on by, probably misled by the fishing tackle in the window. You get your pro barmen here.
Not quite surly but definitely not big greeters. You get a nod, that’s it, but the service is excellent and the pint is pure quality. The sort of pint that is so fine it seems a sin to disturb the perfect creamy head.
It stocks Midleton whiskey, a brand but a prayer away from Jameson. The selling point, the clincher for me, is nobody can find you there.
Almost.
I was midway through the black, with just a hint of the whiskey, when Tevis sat in the chair opposite me.
He asked,
“Are you a death metal headbanger?”
I looked at him with suppressed fury, snarled,
“Do I look like I am?”
He smiled, shook his head, then,
“You’re a piece of work, Monsieur Taylor. Two women, count ’em, one a wife and the other... fiancée? Or significant other? What puzzles me is the nature of your game — apologies to the Rolling Stones — how you manage to piss them all off. Is it love ’em and dump ’em?”
I said,
“How you know so freaking much about my life is not only creepy but becoming seriously threatening.”
The barman brought him a tall glass of sparkling water.
Unheard of.
To receive table service here... I was fucked if I’d ask him how. He said, holding the glass up to the light,
“Vodka and sparkling water, a surprisingly refreshing if, alas, somewhat gay beverage.”
I said, very slowly,
“You need to think carefully how much it is you want to annoy me.”
He leaned over, gave me a playful punch to my shoulder. I asked myself,
“Is he stone fucking mad?”
He said,
“You’re thinking, am I mad? But let me ask you this. How much would you like to be the guy who saves the boy?”
I stared at him in complete astonishment.
He said,
“Impressive, huh? How much would your intended be grateful if you brought back that snotty little fuck of hers?”
All I had was,
“How?”
He stood up, said,
“It’s a biggie but you mull it over for, like, two minutes.”
He went to the bar, got drinks and an armful of Tayto. Came back, mega-smile in place, dumped the lot on the table, muttered,
“Who’s the daddy?”
Raised his glass, clinked mine, said,
“Here’s the heroes.”
My turn to lean. I did, put my index finger bang in the middle of his forehead, said very quietly,
“Who has the boy?”
He pulled back, a fleeting dance of fear across his face, said,
“A pedophile, and Two for Justice has the location.”
I was outraged, wanted to spit with anger, asked,
“That fucking lunatic, the ex-soldier or who the fuck ever he calls himself, the Quietness?”
He put up his hand, to shush me.
“The Silence. It’s important to get the terms right, especially if you want his um... assistance.”
I tried to dial it down, asked,
“This... guy... knows where the child is, even after four days and is, what, negotiating with me?”
Tevis tut-tutted. I mean he actually made the sound, said,
“You need to tone it down, fella, else I walk and kiss the boy good-bye.”
Later, I’d kill the fuck, asked,
“What does he want?”
He gave a conciliatory smile, said,
“Better. Now to give yourself some breath to chill, hop on up there, get me another one of these refreshing drinks.”
Was he serious?
I asked,
“You want me to ask for that punkish drink?”
He nodded, then,
“Time is a-running, lad.”
The barman responded with a huge smile, said,
“Gay rights, eh?”
I brought the drink back, sat, waited.
Tevis rummaged among the bags of crisps on the table, selected Shamrock with cheese and onion, pulled the bag open, put a fistful in his mouth, then, between noisy chews, managed,
“Call them there crisps chips in America.”
I said,
“I’ll do whatever it takes to save the boy.”
He finished the chips & crisps, said,
“That’s the spirit. Two for J is very loyal to its, um, clients, and their protection is vital to the ongoing, so it is felt that even though you are a mess, an alkie mess...”
He paused,
Winked,
Said,
“Not my words or indeed even sentiments,
But
You do tend to somehow get results and so your word is needed that no investigation into their affairs will happen.”
I said,
“I give my word.”
“Bravo. Here is what will happen. The boy will be delivered to your apartment, you will ring the mommy, be the hero.”
“How do I explain the rescue?”
“Lie. Lie big.”
He got up, smiled. I said,
“Your name, I figured it... from Walter Tevis, who wrote perhaps the best novel on chess, The Queen’s Gambit.”
He wasn’t fazed, said,
“You need to learn forks, pins, and skewers.”
And he was gone.
Forks, pins, and skewers are some of the sneakiest tricks
you can use against your opponent. These tactics will
lead to defeating your enemy.
21
I was sitting in my apartment, not drinking, waiting on the call about the boy.
I’d popped a Xanax but a dread had settled in my stomach, not helped by the cigarette I’d smoked.
Ring.
Put me through the roof. I answered, heard Tevis.
“The lad will be delivered to your front door in minutes. Do not wait outside the door. You will then bring him to the hospital, call his mommy, and, for the Guards, you will say you got a call from a source to go to Eighteen, Water Alley, off Devon Park. You found the door open and the child unconscious on an air mattress. The occupant had fled. You immediately rushed him to the A and E. Got it?”