Fireproof (28 page)

"So tell the paper you were so moved by the good work of these two ladies you felt the piece just had to be written. It's money for nothing. Don't knock it."

"Okay, um, Mike. I'll tell them I'm working on it and send it through for editing when Mary sends it to me."

"Good man. So we're all set. I'll come back for you at lunchtime, Cathy."

"Okay, Mike. See you then."

Pete took O'Brien's legs and Mike took his arms. Cathy noticed he was careful to bang O'Brien's head on the doorstep on the way out.

"Now any other man would have left that boorish reporter out on the street," Mary said. "Your Mike is a perfect gent."

Margaret nodded agreement.

"I know. He'll make sure that the guy is okay," Cathy said.
And then he'll kill him,
she thought.

Mike whistled along to the Paul Simon track playing on the car radio. He could taste adrenaline in the back of his throat. Dave O'Brien sat slumped unconscious in the back seat. The slight overdose of powerful sleeping tablets would kick in soon, but Mike hoped he'd wake up just before they did. He wanted to knock him out again.

At his apartment, Mike asked Cadbury to help him carry the unconscious man up the stairs. The lift was out of order. Cadbury took the feet and Mike took the arms. He cracked O'Brien's head off each stair. There was a satisfying
thunk
each time the head made contact with the carpeted wood.

Mike led Cadbury into the bathroom. They hoisted O'Brien into the bath and Mike went to look for some tools in the cupboard under the kitchen sink. He retuned to the bathroom with a hammer and two six inch nails. With Cadbury's help he positioned O'Brien in the bath so that his legs hung out the side and his shoulders rested against the tongue and groove wall on the other side. Mike stretched each of O'Brien's arms out crucifixion-style for a rough measurement. He intended to pin each arm to the tiled wall by sinking a nail through each wrist. But the nails had to be lined up right if he was to bury them in the supporting wooden beams in the boast wall. With the claw of the hammer he pried a good portion of the thin strips of wood from the wall. He rapped his knuckles along the bare plaster and located two beams that would be fit for purpose.

He pulled in a lungful of air and whistled it slowly through his lips. He tried to visualise O'Brien's arms as two lengths of wood.

He accepted Cadbury's help to hold the arms out straight, giving him two free hands to work with. The scraggly butler didn't even blink as Mike lined up the hammer and nail and thumped the round nail head.

The sleeping pills had induced something close to a comatose state. O'Brien flinched with each hammer blow but didn't wake. It would be many hours before Mike could command O'Brien's attention.

Cadbury filled the bath with warm water, Mike didn't protest. The water added buoyant support so O'Brien was not holding himself up with his pinned arms. This meant less work for his chest and abdominal muscles, his lungs were not under too much strain and he would not drown in his own fluids.

"What now?" Cadbury asked.

Mike shrugged. There wasn't much to be done at the apartment.

"It's nearly lunchtime. I'm going to meet Cathy for a coffee. Can I get you anything while I'm out?"

"If you're passing a record shop will you get me a Marvin Gaye CD?"

"Okay. Is there enough food in the house for you?"

"No, but I'm fasting."

"Why?"

"I think it will be good for my abilities. I plan to meditate quite a bit as well. I may have more undiscovered talents and I fancy a bit of self-exploration."

"Well, let me know how that works out for you."

The bathwater was turning a dirty shade somewhere between orange and brown as blood from O'Brien's wrists trickled into the water. Mike was not alarmed. The blood loss was minimal and far from life-threatening. It reminded him to check his hands and clothes for telltale stains. After a quick wash and a change of T-shirt, Mike made his way back to the centre.

While he walked he thought about the taxi driver and how the imp implied Cathy had done something to silence him. He decided to ask her about it. He wasn't sure how upset he would be if he found out she'd gone against his wishes and murdered the poor bastard, but he would not be very grateful. Granted, he had a better chance of surviving the weekend with the taxi driver silenced, but the guy had only been in the wrong taxi at the wrong time. And he had a family. A cold sweat rose on Mike's skin. He was nervous about the confrontation. But clearing the air might untie the knot in his stomach. He cared too much about Cathy but he couldn't dilute his emotions.

Mike was on the Falls Road when he saw the teenager in blue hospital-issue pyjamas approach him on bare feet. The clouds had parted slightly and the afternoon light highlighted the staples in his closely shaved head. A myriad of stitched gashes surrounded the stapled wound. There was dried blood on his face. The teenager's eyes narrowed in angry recognition.

"What's the craic, Tony? How've you been?"

"You nearly killed me."

"Don't exaggerate."

"I've been in the hospital since Tuesday night. I only woke up this morning. They weren't going to let me leave, so I slipped out when nobody was looking."

"Why didn't you stay? Sleep all day, have your meals brought to you? Sounds like heaven for a lazy shit like you."

"I've something to settle with you and I didn't want to wait."

"You're in no fit state to challenge me, Tony. Go home and get some rest. We can pick this up again."

"Why, you afraid to fight me without a bag full of bricks?"

"It was a carryout, and yes, I'm very afraid. Now go home and feel good about yourself."

"No chance. I'm going to sort you out."

Tony's head darted from side to side. Mike guessed correctly that Tony wanted a weapon. Scraping the bottom of the barrel, Tony snatched the windshield wiper from a Ford Escort parked on the kerb beside him. Mike slapped his own forehead in exasperation. The owner of the parked car sat inside it.

Tony weaved a figure eight in the air with the wiper and approached Mike. The owner of the Escort opened the passenger door and swung it open with force. It clattered the advancing Tony and he landed on his backside. The big man took his advantage and jumped out of the car and hit Tony in the face with a powerful soccer kick. Tony's head bounced off the pavement. The driver pulled the windshield wiper out of his loose fist and threw it in his passenger seat. Lucky for Tony, the man drove off without dishing out any more punishment. Mike left him bleeding in the street, again.

At the outreach centre, Margaret and Mary were reading the article Mary had drafted. They didn't ask Mike how O'Brien was doing. Mike left them to it.

"You ready to go?" he asked Cathy.

"Yeah."

"How about we grab that sandwich and dine alfresco?"

"Eat outside? Well, it's not raining… yet. Why not?"

"Cool."

The Falls Park was too far away for a leisurely walk and Dunville Park was full of teens skipping school. Mike suggested they have their lunch in a bus shelter near the gates of Dunville Park. Cathy seemed happy enough. They'd bought tuna sandwiches on granary bread and a bottle of cola between them at the little newsagents across the road from the centre. The sandwiches were delicious and filled Mike's growling stomach. His current body didn't require a huge amount of food.

"So, the imp came to see me at Biddy Duffy's last night."

"That little bastard? What did he want?"

"To let me know that even though the taxi driver has been ‘taken care of' Cerberus is still coming for me on Saturday."

"Shit."

"Indeed. You want to tell me about it, babe?"

Cathy's shoulders slumped. Her eyes looked very moist. Was she going to cry?

"I thought it would help. Fuck. I guess I should have killed him."

Mike felt as if an elephant had just hopped off his shoulders.

"You mean you didn't kill him?"

Cathy shook her head. She didn't make eye contact with Mike.

"I had every intention of doing it, Mike. I had the knife on his throat and he'd frozen stiff."

"What stopped you?"

"I just chickened out. I was in the back of his taxi and he was in the driving seat. Just as I was about to slit his throat, I focussed on the family picture stuck to his dashboard. His girls seemed to be looking right at me. Then his mobile phone rang. I could see the display screen because it was sitting in one of those chargers that act like a cradle too. The caller ID said ‘daddy's little angel' and I couldn't get the words out of my head. I put the knife away."

"So why did the imp say he was ‘taken car of'?"

"Probably because the guy pissed his pants and promised me that he'd never breathe a word."

"He was that scared?"

"There was that, and I promised him seventy-five grand."

"You have seventy-five grand?"

"No, I was going to ask
you
for it, of course. Looks like I'll not need to now though. Cerberus is coming for you anyway."

"Thank you, Cathy."

"For what? I fucked it up."

"For wanting to help me and for not killing the taxi driver. I don't need the guilt of his death on my shoulders. You've saved me from that."

One tear ran down Cathy's face and she looked away. He gave her a moment to compose herself. When she turned to face him again she looked herself. There was no sorrow in her eyes or shame in her expression. Just beauty. His beautiful, strong Cathy.

"What are we going to do about O'Brien?" Cathy asked.

"I'm going to do that one on my own, Cathy."

She nodded. "I'm a bit disappointed, but I understand. Just save a few hours for me, won't you? I want to spend some time with you before we tackle the big dog. And I
will
be with you for that. You can't talk me out of it, so don't even try."

"I want you with me when Cerberus comes. Cadbury and Jim too. I know I can't face him on my own. I've tried before and he fucks me up every time." Mike was confident that the three-headed dog only had eyes for him. As he was the only one Cerberus wanted, he didn't think he was putting the others at risk or he wouldn't want them to be there. Mike simply needed them there for moral support.

Cathy smiled and kissed Mike on the cheek. She was passionate, but not in public. Mike was fine with that.

"You want to go to your place for about half an hour? You wouldn't be too late back."

Cathy laughed. "Sorry, Mike, but I've taken off too much time in the last wee while and if I get you in bed I won't let you out for hours. I want to save some time off for after this messy business at the weekend. We could go away somewhere."

Mike appreciated her effort to act like everything was going to be all right. He could tell she didn't believe it for one second; her voice was much too upbeat. But still, she was trying.

"Yeah, babe, we'll go away somewhere real soon. Maybe one of Jim's contacts could fix me up with a new passport and all the trimmings. If not, we'll do a tour of the island." He matched her smile and it felt as phoney as hers looked.

***

When Cathy returned to the office, Mike gave Jim a call. He wanted to see how things were going with the recruitment. He talked on the phone as he strolled to the local shopping centre. It was a pleasant walk, by Irish standards. At one point the clouds shifted and Mike actually had to shield his eyes from the early afternoon sun with his free hand. Almost everyone on the road was smiling.

"Mike, how're things?" Jim said.

"Hiya, Jim. I'm having a pretty good day today. Just thought I'd catch up on you. Have you any good news for me?"

"A bunch of those yuppies you approached the other night have been on the blower to me. The business cards were a great idea. They want to know when the next mass is and what they need to prepare for it. One of them asked me to email an agenda to him!"

"Aye, they're self-important wee pricks, but what are you going to do? I think they'll be quite valuable though. They represent city centre life in Belfast perfectly."

"I agree. I reckon we'll probably find that the majority of them aren't even all that bad in time. I used to think the Goths were complete nutcases. Now I'm seeing one."

"How's that going?"

"Well, she's still calling me, so I think I may be one of her longest relationships to date. That's an achievement in itself."

"Jim, I should have picked you over Tony from day one."

"No, Mike, things sorted themselves out the way they should have. You haven't made a bad decision yet."

"I appreciate that, Jim. Listen, I need you to keep your day free on Saturday. That okay with you?"

"Certainly. What's happening?"

"I might have to die again."

For a minute there was silence at Jim's end. "Will you be back?"

"I don't know."