A Life for a Life
Chapter Eighteen
The next person's voice he heard was Smyth's, and Miceál didn't appreciate the fact that the man was shaking him quite roughly.
"Is Michael dead as well?" someone else's voice floated over.
"I'm not sure. He's not responding and there's blood on his head."
"Check his pulse."
"That's what I was just about to do." Miceál felt cold hands press against the side of his neck, and it was this temperature change that caused him to twitch involuntarily.
"What's going on?" he muttered quietly, and he heard Smyth breathe a sigh of relief.
"Its all right, he's alive."
Miceál was pulled into a sitting position, and he blinked furiously, clearing his vision.
"Michael? What did you see, Michael?"
"I don't know," Miceál muttered, still faking feeling sluggish, even though his mind was clearing now.
"You didn't see what happened?"
"I did … I don't remember well … they had balaclavas on, they shot Garry and then they finished Frank too,"
"What did they do to you?"
"They asked me loads of questions. Asked me where I worked. What I did. They heard I wasn't a policeman myself and so they beat me up a bit."
"All right. Come on, we need to get you to a hospital and get that head injury checked up. Were you unconscious?"
"I don't remember," Miceál replied truthfully.
"Right, well, come on. We need to get you checked up."
Miceál felt uneasy. There was something Smyth's eyes that told him that he didn't fully believe his story. Miceál knew Smyth was an experienced police detective who was talented at his work. It wouldn't take him long to sniff out a sixteen-year-old liar, would it?
*
"You need to be careful what you're doing, you know, Miceál," Diarmuid was saying, as Miceál enjoyed a few hours where there was no pressure on him.
"Well, it was either that or I walked up and risked getting recruited by those crazy UVF men that hang around outside the pub." Miceál replied truthfully.
"I know, I know. But Fearghus told me you were nearly shot with two of them the other day. If he hadn't have been there, then you might not have been able to talk your way out of it."
"I would have done. I'd be able to tell them things that someone working there wouldn't normally know, wouldn't I?"
"Please, Miceál,' Diarmuid's voice wasn't angry, but nor was it gentle. "I don't want you getting hurt. I'd never forgive myself if something ever happened to you, as well."
"I'll be all right, Diarmuid. But now that you mention it, I'm getting a little bit concerned about old Chris Smyth. I think you should act soon and get rid of him, or I think he's going to compromise me."
"You do?" Diarmuid asked, his eyes wide with concern.
"Yeah. I think we should have a word with Ciaran, Fearghus and Aonghus and see if we can work something out. I don't think he quite bought my story the other day. He's been watching me incredibly closely as well, litening to all the information I gleam from everyone. I can barely tell youse anything anymore without him knowing the information's coming from me. And if he does work it out … well, let's just say I'll be in deep trouble."
"You will indeed." Diarmuid nodded. "All right. We'll have to see what we can do."
"That's good, because I'm not going to be able to get you much more information unless he's out of the way. That is, unless you take me out of there after he's gone."
"I don't know. It depends on if the guy who takes over is any good. What are you up to know, anyway?"
"I need to run back and check on Ma and Aoibheann and Caolan." Miceál muttered, slightly reluctantly. He'd been speaking o Aoibheann on the phone, and apparently Grainne Callaghan wasn't too pleased with him at the moment. Then again, she was never pleased with him.
"You can't." Diarmuid said firmly.
"Why not?"
"There's peelers on your street. They'll recognise you."
"What are they doing on my street?"
"Raiding a house, I think. Don't worry, it's not yours!" Diarmuid said quickly, as Miceál looked round, alarmed. His face relaxed instantly.
"Thank God, I thought they were onto me, then."
"Just you watch yourself, all right? If it gets too rough, or you think someone's onto you, get yourself out of there and get back here and we'll sort your out with somewhere to go."
"I'll be fine, Diarmuid." Miceál gave him a reassuring smile, and then he disappeared.
"Is Michael dead as well?" someone else's voice floated over.
"I'm not sure. He's not responding and there's blood on his head."
"Check his pulse."
"That's what I was just about to do." Miceál felt cold hands press against the side of his neck, and it was this temperature change that caused him to twitch involuntarily.
"What's going on?" he muttered quietly, and he heard Smyth breathe a sigh of relief.
"Its all right, he's alive."
Miceál was pulled into a sitting position, and he blinked furiously, clearing his vision.
"Michael? What did you see, Michael?"
"I don't know," Miceál muttered, still faking feeling sluggish, even though his mind was clearing now.
"You didn't see what happened?"
"I did … I don't remember well … they had balaclavas on, they shot Garry and then they finished Frank too,"
"What did they do to you?"
"They asked me loads of questions. Asked me where I worked. What I did. They heard I wasn't a policeman myself and so they beat me up a bit."
"All right. Come on, we need to get you to a hospital and get that head injury checked up. Were you unconscious?"
"I don't remember," Miceál replied truthfully.
"Right, well, come on. We need to get you checked up."
Miceál felt uneasy. There was something Smyth's eyes that told him that he didn't fully believe his story. Miceál knew Smyth was an experienced police detective who was talented at his work. It wouldn't take him long to sniff out a sixteen-year-old liar, would it?
*
"You need to be careful what you're doing, you know, Miceál," Diarmuid was saying, as Miceál enjoyed a few hours where there was no pressure on him.
"Well, it was either that or I walked up and risked getting recruited by those crazy UVF men that hang around outside the pub." Miceál replied truthfully.
"I know, I know. But Fearghus told me you were nearly shot with two of them the other day. If he hadn't have been there, then you might not have been able to talk your way out of it."
"I would have done. I'd be able to tell them things that someone working there wouldn't normally know, wouldn't I?"
"Please, Miceál,' Diarmuid's voice wasn't angry, but nor was it gentle. "I don't want you getting hurt. I'd never forgive myself if something ever happened to you, as well."
"I'll be all right, Diarmuid. But now that you mention it, I'm getting a little bit concerned about old Chris Smyth. I think you should act soon and get rid of him, or I think he's going to compromise me."
"You do?" Diarmuid asked, his eyes wide with concern.
"Yeah. I think we should have a word with Ciaran, Fearghus and Aonghus and see if we can work something out. I don't think he quite bought my story the other day. He's been watching me incredibly closely as well, litening to all the information I gleam from everyone. I can barely tell youse anything anymore without him knowing the information's coming from me. And if he does work it out … well, let's just say I'll be in deep trouble."
"You will indeed." Diarmuid nodded. "All right. We'll have to see what we can do."
"That's good, because I'm not going to be able to get you much more information unless he's out of the way. That is, unless you take me out of there after he's gone."
"I don't know. It depends on if the guy who takes over is any good. What are you up to know, anyway?"
"I need to run back and check on Ma and Aoibheann and Caolan." Miceál muttered, slightly reluctantly. He'd been speaking o Aoibheann on the phone, and apparently Grainne Callaghan wasn't too pleased with him at the moment. Then again, she was never pleased with him.
"You can't." Diarmuid said firmly.
"Why not?"
"There's peelers on your street. They'll recognise you."
"What are they doing on my street?"
"Raiding a house, I think. Don't worry, it's not yours!" Diarmuid said quickly, as Miceál looked round, alarmed. His face relaxed instantly.
"Thank God, I thought they were onto me, then."
"Just you watch yourself, all right? If it gets too rough, or you think someone's onto you, get yourself out of there and get back here and we'll sort your out with somewhere to go."
"I'll be fine, Diarmuid." Miceál gave him a reassuring smile, and then he disappeared.