The Devil by Ken Bruen Read Free Book Online

looking at that white tent as if he'd give any-
    thing not to have to go in there. Still distracted, he said,
    ' A l l I k n o w is the poor creature's first name. She was a
    student, and w o r k i n g in some fast-food place to pay for her
    books.'
    My heart sank. I was afraid to ask.
    He added,
    'I wish I had a naggin of Paddy. They say her heart was
    removed.'
    I thought for a moment I was going to pass out.
    He flicked the cig away, said,
    'I better go and do what I can.'
    I caught his arm, and if it bothered him he didn't react. I
    asked,
    ' H e r first name, what was it?'
    W i t h o u t even looking at me, he said,
    ' E m m a . '
    A n d he was moving away.
    I grabbed at h i m , near shouted,
    ' W h o ' d do such a thing?'
    He didn't even stop, just added,
    'Tis the work of the D e v i l . '
    I was rooting in my G a r d a coat, praying - no, pleading -
    that rd brought some pills.
    A n d found the X a n a x .
    Swallowed one, tried to get my m i n d in gear.
    I began to move away, my emotions in t u r m o i l , a voice in
    my head screaming. Oh Jesus no, not that lovely bright girl,
    the one I've spoken to, had a burger from, please, not her.
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    THE DEVIL
    H e a r d my name called and turned to see an older G u a r d
    approaching. Naturally, I figured I was in for a bollocking.
    Superintendent Clancy, once my partner, now the top dog
    in the Force, loathed and despised me. My last case, I'd
    helped save his young son and I don't think he could forgive
    himself for being indebted to the person he most detested.
    H i s dearest wish was that I drink meself to death, go to
    America, or both, but get the sweet Jaysus out of his t o w n .
    I had tried.
    To leave.
    The drinking was still under consideration.
    Up close, I recognized Sergeant Cullen.
    O l d school.
    I mean by that he lamented the days when you could take
    a hurley to the thugs w h o polluted and terrorized the
    city.
    W h e n I had dispensed a certain justice in back alleys, he'd
    actually bought me a drink.
    Course, he had to keep his friendship with me a secret and
    rarely acknowledged me.
    We understood each other.
    We had once pulled border duty in the days when peace
    agreements were far in the future, and, under fire in
    A r m a g h , we'd been cowering in a ditch, the rain lashing
    d o w n , and he'd asked me,
    ' W h o the Jaysus is shooting at us?'
    A good question in those days.
    W e ' d been armed with batons. Just what you need against
    Armalites, Kalashnikovs, grenade launchers.
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    KEN BRUEN
    I remember his face even now, a riot of confusion, and
    he'd added,
    Ts it the U V F , our o w n c r o w d , or w h o the fuci-c is trying
    to k i l l us on our o w n land?'
    I said,
    'Whoever it is, just thank Christ they can't shoot for
    shite.'
    A n d he started laughing, hysteria, sure, but he pulled out
    a flask, said,
    'Uisce beatha:
    H o l y water.
    Poteen.
    I'd taken a long swig - and that stuff kicks like a nun
    whose polished floor has been walked on - managed to say,
    'Don't worry, this stuff w i l l k i l l us long before any of the
    bastards manages to get lucky.'
    They kept shooting.
    Us? We kept drinking.
    To each his o w n , I guess.
    W e ' d been friends since.
    He looked old now, long lines creasing his face, furrows
    on his forehead you could plant potatoes i n .
    I'd heard his daughter had been killed by a drunk driver
    and the accused had w a l k e d free, due to emotional
    problems. I could see that lingering pain in his eyes even
    now.
    I said,
    'Sergeant, h o w are you?'
    He glanced back at the scene in the park, said.
    90
    THE DEVIL
    'Tis a holy awful business.'
    'I hear it's a young student.'
    He nodded, still vigilant, lest he be seen talking to me.
    That truly saddened me.
    Then he composed himself, said,
    'Jack, you shouldn't be here. If Clancy knew, well . . .'
    I knew.
    Then he said,
    'I've two years to go to retirement, and to tell y o u the
    truth. Jack, I'm just filling in the time. This new violence,
    the awful savagery, I