A Life for a Life
Chapter Twenty-Five
Miceál Callaghan found himself in very familiar territory. It was the same large building that Michael Craig had worked in for six months, and Miceál couldn't help but chuckle softly to himself as his footsteps echoed on the floor as he walked, and the sound from every door closing could be heard throughout the building. It was all so familiar to him, but yet it was so alien as well.
"Oi, no need to pull, I know where I'm going." he smirked at the two policemen holding him.
"I'm sure you do." one of them muttered wryly. Miceál knew how awkward he was making them feel, and he enjoyed every moment of discomfort they were in. Who wouldn't feel awkward, when the person you'd worked with for six months and thought you knew turned out to be a spy for the IRA, got a load of your friends killed, and then went on to murder your boss and another well-known face?
"You can let me go. I know where to walk." Miceál said cheekily. Both policemen raised their eyebrows at him.
"I don't think so, Callaghan."
"I thought I was Craig?" Miceál asked, his face serious, just for the badness of the moment. The two policemen didn't rise to Miceál's teasing and instead pulled him into a small interview room. Two men were already in there – Miceál recognised them by face as detectives.
"Sit down." Miceál was told, and so he quite happily obeyed and sat down, watching them with a slight air of interest, one eyebrow slightly raised, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"All right, lads?" he asked airily. "Pleased to see me again?"
"As a matter of fact, we are." Only one detective was sitting in front of Miceál – the other one was standing behind him in the way of the door.
"Are you now?" Miceál asked, leaning forward and faking great interest.
"Indeed we are. We're very pleased to see you back in here, Callaghan. It means we've got our man, eh?"
"Ah, I'm not going to lie to you." Miceál shrugged, and for the first time the detective looked taken aback. He'd been expecting a battle – certainly not this. Miceál noticed the brief flash of shock on his face. "What? I've nothing to hide. There's about a hundred witnesses to say it was me tearing around with the gun. I set out to do it, and I've done it. I'm not ashamed. I'd do it all again if I had to." Miceál felt his eyes flash angrily again, and the detective glared at him. Miceál gave a malicious grin.
"All right." he eventually said. He looked at the other man behind Miceál. "I think we've got a talker."
Miceál only casually leant back in his chair, wincing slightly as the now familiar pain briefly shot through his chest, causing him to gasp slightly. Automatically, his hand went to his chest where the pain was centred, but he stopped himself as the detective looked up. Miceál didn't know if he was imagining it, but it looked as though he had a faint smile on his face. Miceál glared.
"So, what now?" he asked. "I know I'm going to jail, like, but what now?"
"You'll need to make a written statement." The detective said. "Are you doing that now, or are you going to change your mind like all your Provie mates do?"
Miceál shrugged.
"I'm no normal Provie, am I? I walked straight in here and got away with it for six months. I'll do it now, but I'm not naming anyone else. I may be caught, but I'm no tout."
"Not going to save a special paragraph for your little friend Diarmuid Feeny, then?"
Miceál kept his face carefully and expertly blank. He knew Diarmuid had been arrested, but he wasn't going to incriminate him in any way.
"I wouldn't know what you're talking about."
The following is a statement from the accused concerning the murder of Christopher Smyth and William Taggart.
Miceál Seamus Callaghan
Aged 16 years
On the morning on 24th September 1985 I was working at the police headquarters on the Shankill Road. I went to work as normal and went home for my lunch and I headed back out at about five to one in the afternoon. I got to the place and I was going up to Smyth's office and I heard him talking to this other man about the killings of Darragh Callaghan and Oisin O'Donnell in 1972. I decided to do something because Darragh Callaghan was my father and I didn't want them getting away with killing them.
I went back up to my house and I went into my kitchen and to the drawer by the back door where I grabbed my gun. Someone else came up to see me but I'm not going to name him. When I was talking to this other man, your man Chris Smyth came in and tried to stop me from doing it, and I shot him. When he was on he floor I shot him again a few times so he was definitely dead. I didn't want him getting back up again.
Some of the other guys were outside so me and your other man went out the back and went away. I can't remember where the other man went. I went up the alley and started heading back to the Ardoyne so I could hide the gun. One the way back I got shot at and had to run, and they chased me. Down the alleyway one of them caught up with me and it was your man who shot my Da. I beat him up a bit with the gun and then I shot him twice and made sure he was dead. Then I ran off.
I was running towards this alley somewhere and then they got me and I was shot in the chest. I made it up to my man's house but I'm not saying where he lives. From there I made it up to my street and then I collapsed. I woke up in the hospital and I was arrested.
I only did it because they killed my father and his best friend and if I had to I'd do it again. I don't regret it. It's a life for a life – I wouldn't have rested until I'd done it.
"Oi, no need to pull, I know where I'm going." he smirked at the two policemen holding him.
"I'm sure you do." one of them muttered wryly. Miceál knew how awkward he was making them feel, and he enjoyed every moment of discomfort they were in. Who wouldn't feel awkward, when the person you'd worked with for six months and thought you knew turned out to be a spy for the IRA, got a load of your friends killed, and then went on to murder your boss and another well-known face?
"You can let me go. I know where to walk." Miceál said cheekily. Both policemen raised their eyebrows at him.
"I don't think so, Callaghan."
"I thought I was Craig?" Miceál asked, his face serious, just for the badness of the moment. The two policemen didn't rise to Miceál's teasing and instead pulled him into a small interview room. Two men were already in there – Miceál recognised them by face as detectives.
"Sit down." Miceál was told, and so he quite happily obeyed and sat down, watching them with a slight air of interest, one eyebrow slightly raised, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"All right, lads?" he asked airily. "Pleased to see me again?"
"As a matter of fact, we are." Only one detective was sitting in front of Miceál – the other one was standing behind him in the way of the door.
"Are you now?" Miceál asked, leaning forward and faking great interest.
"Indeed we are. We're very pleased to see you back in here, Callaghan. It means we've got our man, eh?"
"Ah, I'm not going to lie to you." Miceál shrugged, and for the first time the detective looked taken aback. He'd been expecting a battle – certainly not this. Miceál noticed the brief flash of shock on his face. "What? I've nothing to hide. There's about a hundred witnesses to say it was me tearing around with the gun. I set out to do it, and I've done it. I'm not ashamed. I'd do it all again if I had to." Miceál felt his eyes flash angrily again, and the detective glared at him. Miceál gave a malicious grin.
"All right." he eventually said. He looked at the other man behind Miceál. "I think we've got a talker."
Miceál only casually leant back in his chair, wincing slightly as the now familiar pain briefly shot through his chest, causing him to gasp slightly. Automatically, his hand went to his chest where the pain was centred, but he stopped himself as the detective looked up. Miceál didn't know if he was imagining it, but it looked as though he had a faint smile on his face. Miceál glared.
"So, what now?" he asked. "I know I'm going to jail, like, but what now?"
"You'll need to make a written statement." The detective said. "Are you doing that now, or are you going to change your mind like all your Provie mates do?"
Miceál shrugged.
"I'm no normal Provie, am I? I walked straight in here and got away with it for six months. I'll do it now, but I'm not naming anyone else. I may be caught, but I'm no tout."
"Not going to save a special paragraph for your little friend Diarmuid Feeny, then?"
Miceál kept his face carefully and expertly blank. He knew Diarmuid had been arrested, but he wasn't going to incriminate him in any way.
"I wouldn't know what you're talking about."
The following is a statement from the accused concerning the murder of Christopher Smyth and William Taggart.
Miceál Seamus Callaghan
Aged 16 years
On the morning on 24th September 1985 I was working at the police headquarters on the Shankill Road. I went to work as normal and went home for my lunch and I headed back out at about five to one in the afternoon. I got to the place and I was going up to Smyth's office and I heard him talking to this other man about the killings of Darragh Callaghan and Oisin O'Donnell in 1972. I decided to do something because Darragh Callaghan was my father and I didn't want them getting away with killing them.
I went back up to my house and I went into my kitchen and to the drawer by the back door where I grabbed my gun. Someone else came up to see me but I'm not going to name him. When I was talking to this other man, your man Chris Smyth came in and tried to stop me from doing it, and I shot him. When he was on he floor I shot him again a few times so he was definitely dead. I didn't want him getting back up again.
Some of the other guys were outside so me and your other man went out the back and went away. I can't remember where the other man went. I went up the alley and started heading back to the Ardoyne so I could hide the gun. One the way back I got shot at and had to run, and they chased me. Down the alleyway one of them caught up with me and it was your man who shot my Da. I beat him up a bit with the gun and then I shot him twice and made sure he was dead. Then I ran off.
I was running towards this alley somewhere and then they got me and I was shot in the chest. I made it up to my man's house but I'm not saying where he lives. From there I made it up to my street and then I collapsed. I woke up in the hospital and I was arrested.
I only did it because they killed my father and his best friend and if I had to I'd do it again. I don't regret it. It's a life for a life – I wouldn't have rested until I'd done it.