Ashes to Ashes
Chapter Eight
"Are you going to leave now?" Grainne was glaring at the soldiers as she stood in her kitchen, which was a complete state, like the rest of the house. The police and soldiers had torn it apart looking for guns, explosives, anything that they could arrest Darragh for. They were determined. Grainne couldn’t help but think that Darragh wasn't telling her something. However, she couldn't forget that her husband was an IRA man and what he didn’t tell her, she shouldn’t know.
"We're leaving. And you're coming with us."
"What?' Grainne gasped. 'What do you mean? I've done nothing!"
"You know something, girl! And we're going to find out what it is!"
"I know nothing! My husband's innocent! You can't arrest him because he has a Catholic name, can you? You can't arrest him because he lives in an IRA area! It doesn't mean he's involved himself!"
"I'm sure he's not involved at all." one of he policemen said sarcastically.
"He's a husband and a father! He's no IRA man! He's innocent!"
"And I'm the Queen of England."
"You wish." Grainne snorted rudely.
"Stand still."
"Why?"
"We can hardly handcuff you when you're running around, can we?"
"You're arresting me?" Grainne shrieked. The policemen smiled, enjoying her reaction. Grainne noticed and composed herself. "What about my children?"
"The little brat?"
"His name is Miceál." Grainne glared. "And he has a little brother and sister as well."
"Oh dear."
"Let me get my neighbour." Grainne said firmly. "I can't leave them alone. They're three and below."
"We'll handle that. You can come with us."
"No! I'm not going to live my wee ones with the likes of you! Come with me if you must. I have to get my neighbour."
"We'll handle that." Two policemen moved in to handcuff Grainne, who immediately put up a fierce struggle.
"You can't expect me to leave them! They're only wee!"
"Go round to the next house and get them over." One of the peelers said to another, who disappeared from the house.
"What are you even arresting me for?" Grainne demanded angrily.
"You know more than you're letting on. We've got news for you, girl, and you're not going to like it. And if you have any sense, you'll come clean with us!"
-
Grainne soon found herself sitting across the table from two police detectives, in Castlereagh Interrogation Centre. Her husband had told her all about this place. It certainly wasn't a place you'd want to find yourself, all alone, on a dark night, which was for sure. She hoped the children weren't too frightened.
"Spit it out, then." Grainne demanded, making the first move. "What do you want?"
"Your husband is Darragh Callaghan, yes?"
"What if he is?"
"Answer the question!"
"He is! So what am I doing here?"
"What was your husband doing on the 25th December last year?"
"He was with his sick brother in Glasgow. Why?"
"And you're quite sure about that?"
"Of course I am. I think I notice when my husband isn’t in the country."
"When did he get back?"
"He's not back yet. He's been gone since way before Christmas. His brother is sick and his sister-in-law needed a hand. They have nine children!"
"You're a filthy liar, aren't you, Mrs Callaghan?"
"No I am not! How dare you?"
"Your husband is a murderer. It’s high time that you realised that. He is an IRA man. A Terrorist. A murdering scumbag, and on Christmas Day, no matter what crap he fed you, he was at someone's house blasting their head off in front of his wife and children. Does that make you feel proud?" Grainne stared at them, her face expressionless.
"He never did anything of the sort. He was in Glasgow."
"Please, Mrs Callaghan, you're only making it worse for yourself. I'll tell you something. It would do you good to tell you the truth after hearing this. When we arrived on the scene there was a smashed window. Someone had jumped through it in an attempt to escape. That person was the murderer. He must have cut himself pretty badly as well, because he left traces of blood everywhere. And do you know what the curious thing was? When we got it back here and analysed it, we found out it was a perfect match to your husband's. Can you explain that for me?" Grainne laughed.
"You're setting him up." she said simply, and then, like her husband would have done, she refused to say another word.
"We're leaving. And you're coming with us."
"What?' Grainne gasped. 'What do you mean? I've done nothing!"
"You know something, girl! And we're going to find out what it is!"
"I know nothing! My husband's innocent! You can't arrest him because he has a Catholic name, can you? You can't arrest him because he lives in an IRA area! It doesn't mean he's involved himself!"
"I'm sure he's not involved at all." one of he policemen said sarcastically.
"He's a husband and a father! He's no IRA man! He's innocent!"
"And I'm the Queen of England."
"You wish." Grainne snorted rudely.
"Stand still."
"Why?"
"We can hardly handcuff you when you're running around, can we?"
"You're arresting me?" Grainne shrieked. The policemen smiled, enjoying her reaction. Grainne noticed and composed herself. "What about my children?"
"The little brat?"
"His name is Miceál." Grainne glared. "And he has a little brother and sister as well."
"Oh dear."
"Let me get my neighbour." Grainne said firmly. "I can't leave them alone. They're three and below."
"We'll handle that. You can come with us."
"No! I'm not going to live my wee ones with the likes of you! Come with me if you must. I have to get my neighbour."
"We'll handle that." Two policemen moved in to handcuff Grainne, who immediately put up a fierce struggle.
"You can't expect me to leave them! They're only wee!"
"Go round to the next house and get them over." One of the peelers said to another, who disappeared from the house.
"What are you even arresting me for?" Grainne demanded angrily.
"You know more than you're letting on. We've got news for you, girl, and you're not going to like it. And if you have any sense, you'll come clean with us!"
-
Grainne soon found herself sitting across the table from two police detectives, in Castlereagh Interrogation Centre. Her husband had told her all about this place. It certainly wasn't a place you'd want to find yourself, all alone, on a dark night, which was for sure. She hoped the children weren't too frightened.
"Spit it out, then." Grainne demanded, making the first move. "What do you want?"
"Your husband is Darragh Callaghan, yes?"
"What if he is?"
"Answer the question!"
"He is! So what am I doing here?"
"What was your husband doing on the 25th December last year?"
"He was with his sick brother in Glasgow. Why?"
"And you're quite sure about that?"
"Of course I am. I think I notice when my husband isn’t in the country."
"When did he get back?"
"He's not back yet. He's been gone since way before Christmas. His brother is sick and his sister-in-law needed a hand. They have nine children!"
"You're a filthy liar, aren't you, Mrs Callaghan?"
"No I am not! How dare you?"
"Your husband is a murderer. It’s high time that you realised that. He is an IRA man. A Terrorist. A murdering scumbag, and on Christmas Day, no matter what crap he fed you, he was at someone's house blasting their head off in front of his wife and children. Does that make you feel proud?" Grainne stared at them, her face expressionless.
"He never did anything of the sort. He was in Glasgow."
"Please, Mrs Callaghan, you're only making it worse for yourself. I'll tell you something. It would do you good to tell you the truth after hearing this. When we arrived on the scene there was a smashed window. Someone had jumped through it in an attempt to escape. That person was the murderer. He must have cut himself pretty badly as well, because he left traces of blood everywhere. And do you know what the curious thing was? When we got it back here and analysed it, we found out it was a perfect match to your husband's. Can you explain that for me?" Grainne laughed.
"You're setting him up." she said simply, and then, like her husband would have done, she refused to say another word.