Bold Fenian Men
Chapter Sixteen
"You'd never do it." David Gamble, the man guilty of murdering Gearoid, said again. He was looking a lot more worse for wear now, badly beaten and so weak he was having to be propped up by Cillian and Cearnaigh holding him against a wall.
Padraig just smiled, while calmly and slowly loading his gun.
"We’ve been through this before, Gamble. I'm fed up of being Mr Nice Guy. I'm fed up of being the one that plays by the rules and lets you lot run about like you own the place. I'm fed up of having to put up with my friends being killed, fed up of hearing them get fucking shot over the phone, and I'm also fed up of you." Padraig cocked the gun and levelled it casually at Gamble's head. "End of story."
Something in Padraig's eyes told Gamble that Padraig was being serious, and his eyes suddenly widened. Padraig laughed, a cold laugh dripping with malice.
"Goodbye, Gamble." he said softly, and then he pulled the trigger.
The gunshot ripped through the pub, and Padraig didn’t even flinch as his victim slumped forward. Cillian and Cearnaigh let him drop, and Gamble collapsed in a heap on the floor. Padraig suddenly pointed the gun down, and fired several more shots into Gamble where he lay on the floor. He stood looking at him for a moment more, and then he turned to Cillian.
"Go outside and hijack a car." he said to him. As Cillian disappeared back out of the pub, drawing his gun as he did so, Padraig turned to Cearnaigh. "When he gets back you and him dump his body off in the wasteland at the end of the street." he said.
Cearnaigh nodded, knowing that he shouldn’t ask questions now.
Cillian got back in a few minutes later.
"I've one waiting outside."
"Anyone around?"
"No. It's getting dark anyway."
"Good. Take him and throw him in the car. Cearnaigh knows what to do." Padraig nodded at them both, and they got to work moving Gamble's body out of the pub. Padraig sat himself on one of the bar stools and watched on, sipping another drink. His face was expressionless and free from emotion as he watched Cillian and Cearnaigh remove the body from the premises, and once he heard the car drive away he turned to the other men standing there.
"Get cleaning." he said simply. They all immediately obeyed. None of them had ever seen this side of Padraig before, and they knew it was a side of Padraig Caraher that was to be respected.
The door creaked open slowly and Roisin put her head in.
"Oh, Jesus," she whispered, when she saw the men working to clean the blood off the floor and the walls.
"You shouldn't be here." Padraig said to her, sounding slightly angry.
"I can’t stay off for too long, Padraig. The police know this pub is used for your business. If they see me off for too long they come round and investigate, you know that." Padraig gave a small smile.
"If you want to work while they're doing this then I'm sure they'll need a few drinks for their hard work."
Roisin smiled.
"And you say that so sweetly after shooting someone through the head, hey?"
"I may not have shot him through the head."
"But you probably did."
"What makes you think that?"
"It's just your thing. Either the knees or the head, Padraig. I know you." Padraig smiled and gave a soft chuckle.
A few minutes later, the door opened once more and Cillian and Cearnaigh came through the door, in a change of clothes.
"Get it sorted?" Padraig asked.
"Aye. Dumped him at the end of the road where the old warehouse was."
"Good." Padraig said, sounding slightly business like as he rose from the stool and went to the phone in the corner. He dialled a number and then paused as the phone rang.
"Who are you calling?" Cillian asked.
"I wonder?" Padraig replied, before turning his attention back to the phone. "Is that the Irish Times? Aye, good. Just letting you know that there's been a body dumped on the old wasteland at the end of the Falls Road. His name is David Gamble and he's a member of the UVF. The Provisional IRA's Belfast Brigade hereby claims responsibility for his execution, and would like to let you know that he was executed in retaliation to the murder of Gearoid McMahon." Padraig did not wait for a reply, but hung up.
Padraig just smiled, while calmly and slowly loading his gun.
"We’ve been through this before, Gamble. I'm fed up of being Mr Nice Guy. I'm fed up of being the one that plays by the rules and lets you lot run about like you own the place. I'm fed up of having to put up with my friends being killed, fed up of hearing them get fucking shot over the phone, and I'm also fed up of you." Padraig cocked the gun and levelled it casually at Gamble's head. "End of story."
Something in Padraig's eyes told Gamble that Padraig was being serious, and his eyes suddenly widened. Padraig laughed, a cold laugh dripping with malice.
"Goodbye, Gamble." he said softly, and then he pulled the trigger.
The gunshot ripped through the pub, and Padraig didn’t even flinch as his victim slumped forward. Cillian and Cearnaigh let him drop, and Gamble collapsed in a heap on the floor. Padraig suddenly pointed the gun down, and fired several more shots into Gamble where he lay on the floor. He stood looking at him for a moment more, and then he turned to Cillian.
"Go outside and hijack a car." he said to him. As Cillian disappeared back out of the pub, drawing his gun as he did so, Padraig turned to Cearnaigh. "When he gets back you and him dump his body off in the wasteland at the end of the street." he said.
Cearnaigh nodded, knowing that he shouldn’t ask questions now.
Cillian got back in a few minutes later.
"I've one waiting outside."
"Anyone around?"
"No. It's getting dark anyway."
"Good. Take him and throw him in the car. Cearnaigh knows what to do." Padraig nodded at them both, and they got to work moving Gamble's body out of the pub. Padraig sat himself on one of the bar stools and watched on, sipping another drink. His face was expressionless and free from emotion as he watched Cillian and Cearnaigh remove the body from the premises, and once he heard the car drive away he turned to the other men standing there.
"Get cleaning." he said simply. They all immediately obeyed. None of them had ever seen this side of Padraig before, and they knew it was a side of Padraig Caraher that was to be respected.
The door creaked open slowly and Roisin put her head in.
"Oh, Jesus," she whispered, when she saw the men working to clean the blood off the floor and the walls.
"You shouldn't be here." Padraig said to her, sounding slightly angry.
"I can’t stay off for too long, Padraig. The police know this pub is used for your business. If they see me off for too long they come round and investigate, you know that." Padraig gave a small smile.
"If you want to work while they're doing this then I'm sure they'll need a few drinks for their hard work."
Roisin smiled.
"And you say that so sweetly after shooting someone through the head, hey?"
"I may not have shot him through the head."
"But you probably did."
"What makes you think that?"
"It's just your thing. Either the knees or the head, Padraig. I know you." Padraig smiled and gave a soft chuckle.
A few minutes later, the door opened once more and Cillian and Cearnaigh came through the door, in a change of clothes.
"Get it sorted?" Padraig asked.
"Aye. Dumped him at the end of the road where the old warehouse was."
"Good." Padraig said, sounding slightly business like as he rose from the stool and went to the phone in the corner. He dialled a number and then paused as the phone rang.
"Who are you calling?" Cillian asked.
"I wonder?" Padraig replied, before turning his attention back to the phone. "Is that the Irish Times? Aye, good. Just letting you know that there's been a body dumped on the old wasteland at the end of the Falls Road. His name is David Gamble and he's a member of the UVF. The Provisional IRA's Belfast Brigade hereby claims responsibility for his execution, and would like to let you know that he was executed in retaliation to the murder of Gearoid McMahon." Padraig did not wait for a reply, but hung up.