"Fierce Chewing, Suspicion Brewing." : An LMP Green Tale

Once upon a time when mobile’s weren’t an accessory and network coverage was less than reliable…

The land line rang for a third time. He answered despondently.

“Garda Murphy, Sneem Station”

“Ah so you are there Sean. Whats taking you so long? Third time I’ve bee….”

He cut her off mid flow. He knew the kind of haranguing that was coming.

“Now Mary, we’re run ragged, what with all the current criminal escapades.”

She snorted at his sarcasm, he smirked.

“Ye cheeky man, it's not my fault if ye bored, but here’s something for yeh. One of them small white foreign cars. What're they called? Your cousin over in Caherdaniel has one….ye know the ones.”

“A Panda?”

“That’s the one. Well, very odd as it's not yer cousin’s and this was an English reg. Driving aimless up and down the Blackwater Road. A young couple driving. Well, she’s driving. He may be her pimp for all I know, both of ‘em look ragged as tinkers. Keep popping into the pubs having a look-see and then back to their car. Right suspicious. Don’t ye think?

“Now that does sound off.”

His heartbeat went up a notch. Strangers here? Not the regulated tourist kind, popping on and off their coaches. They were tolerated as long as they spent their cash on souvenirs from the gift shop, bought the best ice-cream in the West at Sally’s, had a pint of the black stuff in either Murphy’s or O’Rileys and then moved on, sharp like. This was different. Sean remembered how a few years ago there’d been a big bust down the coast. Ever since he’d joined the force, he’d dreamt of making those kinds of busts. Was today the day?

“Well, thanks Mary I’ll look into it.”

He put the phone back into its cradle and leaned his chair back. 

Should I tell the Sergeant? 

Sarge was close to retiring. He was home most days, pottering in his shed or in the field, getting the hay in. 

What to do?…

5 seconds later…

“Right Lorcan, time for a stakeout.” 

He whistled and a young, eager sheep dog looked over alertly from his bed.

“That’s right Lorc.”

Sean nodded with his head towards the front door and the excited dog bounced over.

“Now Lorcan, sit.”

Ever obedient, the eager dog stopped. All hanging tongue, waggy tail and loving gaze.

Sean chuckled.

“All right Lorc this is it, our first mission. We’re on an undercover stakeout. No approval from the top. We need results. Let’s go check these suspicious types out, will we?"

The dream team wandered outside, Lorcan snapping at his master’s hands hoping to find a stick, a ball, some treats maybe.

“Now behave Lorcan, this is serious.”

The dog lowered his head and switched to a calm stride beside Sean. Outside, Sean looked around taking in the small blue and yellow Garda station. Lovingly nicknamed, Noddy’s Home. 

“No Noddy car today Lorc. We’re going undercover.” 

They walked past the pristine police car and headed to Sean’s battered and rusty Ford Fiesta. The silver colour, like most things in this part of the world, had fallen to the salty sea air, a long time ago. On these roads fancy cars were a waste and stuck out like sore thumbs. 

The exact opposite of what I need right now. 

He opened his driver’s door reached behind and opened the back passenger door. The Ford’s outside handle, just like its silver finish, had also fallen victim to the elements. Lorcan hopped in excitedly. 

“Calm now Lorcan.”

His best friend twirled around twice, found an old rubber toy to chew on and settled. Sean closed the door, giving it an extra push to make sure it was shut. He got in the front and belted up. 

A minute later…

They crossed the bridge. Sean glanced over towards O’Reilly’s on his left and saw Nick waving at him. He slowed down, put his indicator on and cautiously did a 180 to pull up next to Nick. He rolled the window down and looked up. The ageing farmer had big wooly hair like the sheep that his son now watched over and a matching beard that looked as soft as gorse. His blue navy jumper was thick but full of holes and underneath, his white vest proudly displayed its stains of Guinness and gravy. He looked down at the young Garda rubbing his beard.

“How’reya Sean?”

“Good enough Nick. What can I do for ya?”

“Well, there’s some odd-bodies on the road today, so there is.”

“Is that so?”

“Tis.”

Nick looked off into the distance and nodded sagely. Sean waited. Nick was notorious for dramatic pauses. The entire village agreed, talking to him was like getting teeth pulled.

Sean’s jaw tensed, Lorc raised his head.

“Care to elaborate Nick?”

“Rightyaare.”

The farmer’s hand went slowly though his tangles. He rubbed his beard and looked back along the road towards the bridge. Sean’s temple pulsed with exasperation, he drew a breath. 

“In your own time, Nick.”

“Rightso, Well the first thing that struck me was them yellow plates. I thinks to me-self, looks like some out of townies on their way somewhere. But they stop and park. Out jumps this odd lookin’ fella. A right mess if ye asks me. He rushes over, pops his head in without so much as a hello or goodbye and then scarpers out. I spies him then crossing the bridge, disappearing into Murphy's and not 10 seconds later he was back outside. He seemed in an awful hurry. I couldn’t see his fancy woman, but I noticed her jaw was chewing something fierce.”

Nick nodded knowingly at Sean. He placed an index finger on his nose and winked.

“Is that right?”

“Tis.”

“Jaw chewing fierce?”

Sean’s brain kicked into fifth gear. A speed his normal Ford like experience would never afford him. This was new territory. Fierce chewing! Potential gurning! Possible dilated pupils! A fella rushing around! Ohh he’d heard of these types. Meth heads no doubt. Buying that filth of the Czechs or Poles who came here once the EU opened up. 

So they’re junkies, possibly, dealers, definitely criminals! 

“Well thanks Nick for doin' yer civic duty”

“No Bother like, no bother at all.”

Sean started his engine, forced the sticky clutch to the floor, shoved in first gear and headed of to the edge of the village.

“Well, Lorc, looks like the big boys have picked the wrong spot to peddle their wares. Not on our watch, eh?” 

The dog’s ears perked. He liked this happy master music and his tail wagged accordingly.

At that moment…

“For fucks sake Will how much longer are you gonna make me drive up and down this road.” 

Anne was tense and Will didn’t blame her. It was their first real holiday together. A quick weekend break at his parents place on the lovely west coast of Ireland. Only he’d gone and written the instructions down wrong. Consequently they’d now been on the road for over 36hrs. Obviously they’d partied before setting off. Just some speed, a pill each, a two litre bottle of cider, some joints. Nothing too heavy. They’d planned to sleep on the ferry, but they’d impulsively decided on some bathroom antics. After almost being caught they’d disembarked, high on adrenaline andfeeling like naughty kids. They were taking the coast road from Dublin to Cork then Killarney to Kenmare, and now….Well now things were truly bollocksed. It didn’t help that Will still hadn’t passed his driving test meaning Anne was doing all the heavy lifting. These tired lovebirds were sipping on a volatile cocktail of exhaustion, frustration and guilt.

“Just explain to me one more time why your brilliant plan is to just drive between these two towns, for eternity?”

Will closed his eyes, drew his eyebrows together. He did empathise, but his guilt about how he’d fucked this up, was making it difficult to not get annoyed.

“Like I said, there’s bound to be a friend of my parents in one of the locals. I spot them or they spot me and then we’re safe. Look Boo I know this is my fault but we really have no choice.”

In the meantime…

Sean had had to update the Sarge. The wily old boy had phoned and asked the owner of O’Reilly’s if its true that his Garda was over there instead of manning the station. The owner, John headed directly to where Sean was parked, and told him to report in. Sean, though disappointed, wasn’t surprised. Growing up here you learnt quickly that privacy is a precious commodity. Grassing up was second nature round here. He’d explained to the Sarge, from O’Reilly’s landline, about the possible suspects on the road. The possible... Junkies. Pimps. Gangsters. Murderers. The Sarge had hrumphd and said he’d be right there. 

“And Sean, don’t ye feckin’ move till I get there. Understood?” 

It was certainly understood and as far as Sean’s ego felt, bloody unfair. In an unprecedented act of rebellion he went right back to his car and started playing fetch. Lorc was understandably ecstatic and bounded after the yellow tennis ball. Sean turned back towards the road. He heard a vehicle approaching. A white panda came around the corner. There they were. A sordid looking pair. She had sun glasses on. Sunglasses! Her jaw was moving awful fierce. Her pimp leant his head on the passenger window looking dejected. For a split second the two men exchanged a glance, but there was no recognition. Sean just saw those glazed red eyes and knew he had them. 

A second later…

“My God,”

“What?”

“Did you see that guy?”

“I’m trying to drive Will not sightsee.”

“Well, if ever there was a father, mother, brother, sister dynamic going on out here, he was all the proof you’ll ever need. Those big Kerry ears don’t lie.”

She smiled at his joke, almost laughed. She looked in the rearview to see if she could get a glimpse but the corner hedge obstructed the view. 

“Well, oh man of mine, it takes one to know one.”

“Oi cheeky! I’ll have you know I come from a long line of respectable travellers.”

While that was happening…

An angry Sean bumped his fist on the top of the car. Restraint wasn’t the right call. He should be giving chase. Hunting them down; but Sean’s no rogue. Regardless of his current rebellious mood he stuck to the Sarge’s orders. Lorc’s wet nose rubbed lovingly against him.

“Did ya see them Lorc? The degenerates.” 

Sean ruffled Lorcan’s ear and threw the ball far off into the distance. He turned as he heard the sound of someone cycling up the road. 

For fucks sake he’s only gone and ridden his bike all the way out here. Jaysus. 

However the natural order of his vocation, remanded his frustration behind bars. He stiffened to attention as the old man in his crisp Garda uniform came around the hedge. 

“Did ya see them Sir” Sean called out.

“I did. Don’t like the look of ‘em one bit”

“Me neither”

“Oh Jaysus Sean, why’re ye here with the Ford?”

“I’m undercover”

“Yer under intelligent that’s what yeh are. How we gonna do a stop and search with this poor excuse of a vehicle? And where’s yer uniform? No stop and search without a police car and a uniform”

“Ye wanna stop ‘em Sir?”

“Well of course I do”

Sean’s chest swelled and then his crest fell rather deeply as he realised how unprepared he was.

“Sorry Sir”

“Yer Sorry? Ye bollicks.”

Meanwhile…

“Did you see him?”

“Please stop doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Asking random shit. I’m trying to park. I’m on edge as it is, what with no sleep, this magical mystery tour and a prize winning come down.”

“You seriously didn’t see that bobby on a bicycle? Classic Ireland.”

Anne took a steadying breath

“No, I didn’t. Will this is the last time I’m driving this road. If we strike out again we’re going back to Kenmare and you’re paying for a hotel. End of discussion.”

“Not to worry Boo, sixth time’s a charm.”

Anne rested her aching head on the cool glass of the driver’s side window. Will got out and ran over to the pubs. She noticed a big hairy man in a blue jumper giving her the eye but she didn’t care, she had her sunglasses on and this was gonna be a great holiday.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing” 

He slammed his passenger door shut.

“All right, back to Kenmare. You’re paying for the hotel.”

She put the clutch in, got into first, did a little 180 and headed back the way they’d come. Will let his head bounce on the passenger’s side window as he fought against sleep. 

10 mins later…

“Holy Shit, what’s this now.”

Her voice made him sit up. Bang in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by the kind of green stony desolation that is the majestic beauty of Kerry’s scenery, stood a spruce policeman, waving them down. A beaten up Ford, with a bicycle strapped to the roof, was parked behind him and Will was sure he recognised the guy sitting in the drivers seat. 

“Fucking hell, it’s that big eared dude. What’s he doing here?”

“What’s going on Will?”

“Look I don’t know, but I have heard stories. Visitors, gone missing. Last time I was over, my parent’s had a party. This friend of theirs….Nick I think his name was… I’m not sure. He told me a story of an Australian who did some rough shit. Apparently he’s buried somewhere in the hills. They never found a body and as far as the locals are concerned, the man flew home”

“Shit Will, what kinda hillbilly place is this?”

“Relax we’ve done nothing wrong. I’ll handle it.”

Will wound his window down. 

“Hi Officer, How can we help?”

The old man bristled.

“I’m a Garda.”

“Sorry, Garda.” His english born tongue had difficulty with the pronunciation and that didn't help. 

“Licence and registration please.”

Anne scrambled manically around the car. While all that background panic was happening Will decided to engage.

“Lovely weather.”

“Tis indeed.” Sarge displayed his best poker face. 

“How long do you intend to enjoy the weather?” 

His tone was not tourist friendly.

“Just the weekend”

“All the way over, from England.” 

He paused and looked this junkie directly in his bloodshot eye. 

“Just for the weekend?”

 The end of that question felt like a cell door slamming. Unconsciously Will tugged on his ear.

“Yeah. I’m visiting my parents. They have a house around here.”

“So? Visiting yer parents are ye?” 

The Atlantic chill, was not just blowing in off the coast. Anne leaned over Will and handed him her documents.

“Would you mind taking your sunglasses off Miss?”

Shakily she complied. 

“You nervous miss? You’re chewing that gum at a fierce rate”

“Sorry what?”

“Never mind.”

The Sarge had the documents but he wasn’t looking at them, he was making the “get ready” sign he and Sean had already agreed upon. Unfortunately, the daft bugger was still upset and looking down at his car floor.

“Eejit! Oh well, I’ll stall for a few moments.”

“Your parents place so? For two days only? Would you mind telling me where their place is?”

“Well, that’s the funny thing, Garda,” Will’s winced as he tried again to say the Gaelic word. 

“I wrote the instructions down wrong, and now we’re lost.”

“So, lost are ye? Don’t know where yer parents live and only here for two days…”

Will finally cottoned on to the officer’s suspicion. 

This guy actually thinks we’re criminals. Well, no wonder, we are, kind of, but not that kind, not the “go to jail” kind. 

Just then…

A sudden spark of memory lit his mind’s empty cave. 

“You know my Dad.” Will blurted

“I know yer father? Do I now?”

It was obvious the old man didn’t believe a word. He did however believe that if you gave a man enough rope then most problems solved themselves. So he waited.

“Yes! yes?… yes, you do.” 

Will centred himself. Took a deep breath and babbled.

“Last Christmas. You Gardai,” The plural sounded even worse, but he plowed on. 

“you went up to our house because the builder was squatting in it. My Dad flew over and you all went up the land with him.”

The Sarge closed his eyes. 

“Yes, what was that business again? That’s right, old builder Seamus had taken over that fella’s home and we’d all gone up the land and had a word. That’s right what was the owner's name…..”

“Ahh you’re the Green’s boy. Is that it?”

15 mins later…

“Ohh, are we glad you’re both here, the weirdest thing just happened.

That evening…

“I knew it was that Will,” Nick paused. “Shared a joint with him at his parent’s party, so I did.”

Mary chimed in from the booth.

“Such a nice looking girlfriend I hear. And that Will, with his good manners. Did you not recognise, the Green’s boy and his girlfriend, Sean?”

Sean nodded dejectedly. 

“Ahh well, maybe Scarface will land next week.”

The pub erupted in friendly familiar laughter. Lorcan perked his happy doggy ears.