No Good Deed (river city crime) Read online

  Sean shook his head. “Feckin’ thing was hidden in the old Hunt estate. Goddamn Yank found it. We took it from there.”

  “Still, won’t the Hunts report it missing?”

  “Not likely,” Sean snorted. “They didn’t even know it was there. Feckin’ English pillaged so much treasure in the world, they forget where they hide it all.”

  “That doesn’t seem right. Who forgets something like this?” I glanced back down at the deep dark eyes of the woman’s face.

  Ahwere, Sean had called her.

  “Look,” Sean told me. “The Yank said that one of them hid it there seventy-some years ago. I don’t think anyone else knew about it. He figured it out from some of the old papers the pillager left behind.”

  “Who?”

  “Randal Hunt. The Yank was studying the entire family — ”

  “The graduate student? The one from the pub?”

  “Aye. Dex. He figured it out. He found it in a secret room behind a wall in the basement.”

  “He tore down a wall?”

  “I tore down the feckin’ wall,” Sean corrected. “Skinny bastard watched and played the boss. We found the mummy and hauled it out.”

  “Who saw you?”

  “No one that wasn’t involved.”

  “What’d you do with the hole in the wall?”

  “Hung a tapestry over it.” Sean smiled at his own ingenuity. “Then we stacked storage items in front of that.”

  I nodded. That was good. If the family didn’t know about it, they might not discover for years that there was even a secret room in the basement, much less what had been inside. “Who all knows about this, then?”

  Sean looked at Niall. I followed his gaze.

  Niall motioned around the room with a twirling finger. “All of us. And Brian.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  “No one else?”

  “Aye, that’s what I said.”

  “What about the Yank, then?”

  Niall glanced over at Sean, then back at me. He shook his head. “Just us four, Shae. No one else.”

  I felt a stab of pity for the young American scholar. I’d seen him at the pub once in a while. He was one of the few men that hadn’t tried to come onto me. I allowed a moment of silence for him, then moved closer to the golden coffin. My fingertips snaked out and touched the cool metal. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered.

  I sensed Sean at my side. “The Yank said it was cursed.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Ye don’t believe in curses, lass?”

  I shook my head.

  Sean chuckled. “Dex, he said the same thing.”

  I barely listened to him. Instead, I ran my hand across the golden surface. The incredible smoothness glided beneath my fingertips. Realizing that it was crafted thousands of years ago set my mind racing.

  Sean cleared his throat. “So what do ye think?”

  I swallowed. “I think it must be worth millions.”

  “It’s worth,” Sean said, “whatever someone will pay for it.”

  “And that’s where ye come in, lass,” Niall added.

  After he laid out the plan, we huddled around the fireplace, each of us trying to draw warmth from the pitiful flames.

  “If it gets any colder, lass, we might have to get naked and share body warmth,” Sean said.

  I shot him a hard stare.

  “To avoid dyin’ from the cold,” he added.

  “I’d rather die,” I told him.

  “Aw, come on,” Sean said. “It’s not like Niall here hasn’t seen you in the nip — ”

  My hand flashed out and grabbed him by the balls. I squeezed.

  Sean gasped. His eyes filled with pain and surprise.

  “Get this straight,” I told him. “This is going to be a business arrangement. Nothing more. We do a bit of business for the Cause and maybe make a touch of coin ourselves. But I won’t be putting up with any of this. Ye hear me, lad?”

  Sean nodded frantically, his mouth hanging open.

  I glanced over at Niall. “Same for you.”

  Niall gave me a barely perceptible nod.

  I let go of Sean’s yockers.

  He drew in a ragged breath. “You bitch!” he grunted. He put his hand on the butt of his pistol to draw it.

  Niall reached out and touched his shoulder.

  “Let it lie, lad,” he said calmly. “Ye should na’ have said what you did.”

  Sean glowered at me, but obeyed.

  I looked back into the small fire. Now they knew where things stood with me. And I knew who was in charge.

  We sat on the park bench, each pretending to read a copy of The Irish Times in the dim light of the streetlamp. I glanced up at the clock tower a block away. It showed five minutes of nine. I was due in the pub at nine.

  The small tremble of fear and anticipation hovered in the pit of my stomach, just like it always did. I’d been on the fringe of Sinn Fein for years. I’d done small favors. Passed messages. Delivered a few packages. Once, I’d even hidden a lad on the lam. But I knew this was much more serious.

  “That’s why I can’t do it,” Niall had said back at the farmhouse those few days ago. “I’m known. The man you’ll be meeting is known. If we’re seen together, someone will figure out that there’s something afoot. You’re not known. If ye’re seen with him, no one will think a thing.”

  “They’ll think I’m just some pretty,” I said.

  “Exactly. That’s why it has to be you.”

  “I ken ye.”

  “The contact’s name is Conor,” said Niall.

  Hardly an uncommon name, I thought, but surely not the man’s real name, either.

  “Just tell him we want to donate the mummy to the Cause. All we’re asking is a small finder’s fee,” Niall instructed.

  “How small?”

  When he told me, I almost laughed. Niall was such a poser, but he set his sights way too low.

  “What’re ye grinning about?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Just thinking about all the pints that’ll buy.”

  He smiled. “Aye. A year’s worth, at least.”

  I smiled back at him.

  Feckin’ eejit.

  The clock struck nine. I rose and made my way to the pub.

  Conor looked much younger than I expected. Only the scar across his chin and the beginnings of crow’s feet gave any hint to his true mileage.

  He smiled at me when I sat next to him. We chatted about nothing over a couple of pints. He pawed at me playfully. I let him, laughing. We played the fools, but quietly. Within the hour, no one was looking at us any differently than anyone else in the place. The steady buzz of noise provided all the camouflage we needed.

  He nuzzled my ear with his lips. “I hear ye might have something for me mates,” he whispered.

  I let out a girlish giggle and nodded.

  “Is it really a mummy?” he asked.

  I nodded again.

  “What’s it in?”

  I turned my face to his. “She’s in a beautiful gold casket,” I whispered.

  His eyebrows rose at that.

  I leaned forward and kiss the side of his neck. “It’s worth millions,” I said in a low, husky voice. “And the best part is, no one is even looking for it.”

  “How’s that?”

  I pulled back from him and took another drink from my pint. Then I told him a fanciful story about a woman who went shopping for a dress. He listened carefully and picked out all the clues. He was a clever lad, this Conor. A few minutes later, he understood.

  “I’m not much for dresses,” he said.

  “That’s good.”

  “Aye, ‘tis.” He smiled. “But I’d love to buy myself a fine cottage one day. Something outside of Belfast, in the country somewhere. Do ye know anything about real estate, lass?”

  “A thing or two,” I said.

  “What do ye suppose a cottage like that would cost?”<
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  I pretended to consider. Then I gave him a sum that was ten times what Niall proposed.

  He listened, nodding his head. “That’s reasonable, but I wasn’t thinking quite so extravagant. Say about a third less? Could a man find a cottage for that sum?”

  “I’m certain he could,” I said.

  And just like that, the deal was struck.

  Later, I told Niall. He whooped for joy, reached out and pulled me into an embrace. “Thank Christ!” he shouted.

  I pushed him away in disgust. “Get control of yerself!” I hissed at him.

  He was so ecstatic, my sharp words didn’t even dent his enthusiasm. He started the car and drove, grinning and shaking his head like the dumfounded, thrilled fool he was.

  But my mind started working again. I didn’t mind the idea of sharing a bit of the money with Niall and his eejit friends. They found the damn thing, after all. But I knew they’d never keep their mouths shut. As time passed, they’d start to tell tales at the pub and word would get out. Hell, Niall couldn’t even keep one drunken bounce with me to himself. After a while, the law would hear tell of it and then it was anybody’s guess how much they could prove or manufacture.

  And as for the Cause? Did I believe in it? For a long time, I thought I did, but I wasn’t so sure anymore. The Troubles were confusing enough as it was. For all I knew, it was the IRA that killed my father. Of course, if he’d fallen in with Sinn Fein, then it could’ve been the English that shot him. Then again, for all I knew, it was something else entirely. Maybe he owed someone money. I didn’t know. I’d never known.

  What I did know was that with the millions that Sinn Fein might make off of Ahwere, I could expect a renewed push to get the English out of Northern Ireland. What weaponry might they buy with the money? What kind of damage would they do?

  I tried to tell myself it was all in the name of freedom, but I wondered at the one, too. There were families in country that went back hundreds of years. Were they any less Irish? Did they even want to be free of the English government?

  But Ireland should be for the Irish, right?

  My head hurt. I rubbed my temples.

  The reality of the Troubles was that people who were just trying to live their lives got caught up in the cross-fire. I was tired of seeing it. And if I went through with this sale, I knew I’d see more of it.

  But now if I didn’t go through with it, I’d have the Irish Republican Army gunning for me. Not to mention Niall and his boys. Which wasn’t quite the same thing, no matter how much they wished it so.

  Maybe I should go ahead and make the sale. Take the money. Give Niall the pittance he thought he had coming and just go. I had an uncle in Canada that no one knew about. I could just leave forever.

  “Ye all right, lass?” Niall asked me from behind the wheel of the car.

  I watched the tall, green grass flit by outside my window.

  “Fine,” I told him. It wasn’t my first lie and it far from my last.

  The Inspector’s eyes were cool and appraising. His fixed stare regarded me not as a woman, but as a criminal. Or perhaps merely as Irish. Who knew with the goddamn Peelers?

  “And why should I believe a word of what you’re telling me, missy?” he asked. “Given the crowd you’ve always run with?”

  “It doesn’t matter what ye believe,” I told him. “What matters is that what I just told ye is going to happen, will happen.”

  He continued to stare at me, but I could see his mind working behind those eyes. “Perhaps I should just roust your entire crew right now. Find myself a pretty prize.”

  “Oh, that’s right smart,” I snapped. “And give up a chance to put away a major player in the IRA? Good career move, that. Now ye’re thinking.”

  He didn’t reply.

  “Besides,” I said, “I didn’t tell ye where that prize is hidden.”

  He shrugged. “I think we both know that if I rounded up Niall and his boys, one of ‘em would crack.”

  “Maybe. Maybe not. But ye’d still miss out on the Sinn Fein part of this situation. And that’s where the real score is, now isn’t it?”

  He continued to stare at me, his eyes like a pair of searchlights looking for the break in the prison wall. “I’m still wondering why you’re here,” he said softly.

  “Look,” I said. “It’s simple. I want out. I want a new life. This is my way out.”

  “Selling out the lot of them to be free, is it?”

  “Call it whatever,” I said. “Do ye want to arrest these fecks or not?”

  A touch of a smile lighted on his lips. “Oh, yes. I do.”

  “Fine, then,” I said, handing him a slip of paper. “Here’s where I’ll meet ye. It’s a lighthouse. I’ll have the merchandise and the IRA boys will be right behind me.”

  “What about Niall and his crew?”

  “Their fingerprints are all over the casket. Even an eejit from London should be able to make that stick.”

  His smile didn’t fade. “Very well. Don’t be late.”

  Three days later, I was in a small van with Sean, headed for the meet. Ahwere was wrapped in blankets and strapped into the back of the van with heavy chains hooked to huge eyelets on the floor. It’d taken the three of them two hours to get the golden casket loaded and another half hour to wrap and strap her. She wasn’t moving.

  I made a show of glancing down at my watch.

  “We’re a bit early yet,” I said.

  “Better early than late,” Sean said back.

  “Aye, but if we get there too early, it’ll be our nerves that eats us both up before the others even show.”

  “So what do ye want me to do? Drive slower?”

  I shook my head. “There’s a pub in the next town. Let’s stop for a brief pint.”

  Sean hesitated. “Well…”

  “Come on,” I cajoled. “It’ll take a bit of the edge off.”

  “I don’t know,” Sean said. “If Niall knew we stopped — ”

  “Niall isn’t here, the feck. It’s yer arse and mine on the line tonight. I’d say that makes it our decision whether to have a pint or not.”

  Sean nodded slowly. “Aye, I suppose yer right about that.”

  “It’s settled then.”

  “’Tis.” Sean eyed me for a moment. “I thought ye had something going on with Niall, ye know?”

  I shook my head. “In his dreams, perhaps.”

  “No?”

  “Not at all.” I looked away. “Besides, it isn’t Niall I fancy. Never was.”

  I glanced back in time to see his eyes bug out. I smiled shyly and directed him to the pub. He smiled back and rested his hand on my knee.

  Christ, men were so feckin’ stupid at times.

  The pub was smaller than most in the city, but just as full. I made sure we found a table that was far from the loo but close to the door. Sean didn’t pay any attention. He was much more interested in pressing his knees against mine once we’d sat down and ordered a pint.

  We drank our pint and talked about nothing at all. I played my move carefully. Sean may have always seemed to me to be the biggest pretender of all of Niall’s crew, but the reality was that he’d put the Yank to his dirt nap, so he wasn’t fooling about. I let him paw at me a bit under the table and feigned some excitement at his brusque, clumsy touches.

  After a bit, he slid his jacket off his shoulders. I felt for the keys to the van in the pocket nearest me.

  Empty.

  “Are ye warm, then?” I asked him.

  He smiled lustfully. “Aye. A bit.”

  “I’m a bit chilled myself,” I said. I pointed at his coat. “Do ye mind?”

  His smile grew. He draped the coat over my shoulders. It reeked of cigarette smoke, spilled Guiness and his body odor.

  The keys were in the right pocket.

  I smiled back at him.

  As we neared the bottom of our pint, he glanced at his own watch. “It’s about time we headed onward.”

  “
Aye, ‘tis.” I dipped my chin and looked up at him with as lustful a gaze as I could muster, given the stench that surrounded me. “But I’m afraid this pint hasn’t quite taken the edge off.”

  “No?” he asked.

  I shook my head slowly. “No,” I replied in a husky whisper.

  His eyes widened with understanding. “Well, perhaps in the van — ”

  “No,” I whispered. I moved my eyes toward the door to the loo, then back to him. “In there.”

  His eyes went even wider. “Are ye crazy, lass?”

  I shook my head. “No. Unless, of course, ye’d rather not — ”

  He stood. “No, no, no. In there will be fine.”

  I smiled. “You go first. Give me a couple of minutes and I’ll be in.”

  He grinned stupidly. “I always knew ye fancied me, Shae.”

  “Get on in there, ye eejit.” I gave him a playful smack on the shoulder. “And stop grinning like that. The entire pub will know what’s up.”

  He tried to suppress his grin, but couldn’t. I watched as he ambled over to the loo and walked inside.

  I waited three seconds, then grabbed his keys. I shrugged the stinky coat from my shoulders and went straight for the door without looking back.

  The van started immediately. I pulled out onto the lane and drove away, leaving Grinning Sean and his hard on behind.

  The meet was in a field about a half kilometer from the coast. As I rolled to a stop, I spied a single car already parked at the edge of the meadow. Two men stood smoking cigarettes and waiting.

  I was late.

  I turned off the van’s engine. A cherry coal from one of the men’s cigarettes flared in the darkness. My stomach fluttered. I took a deep breath. Suddenly, my whole plan seemed foolhardy. And to try to pull it off without a gun?

  Stupid.

  But it was too late.

  And I wanted a new life.

  Go with the flow, I told myself.

  I drew in another deep breath and got out of the van.

  My footfalls sounded as loud as stamping elephants as I made my way toward the two men. When I approached, they eyed me in much the same arrogant fashion that the British Inspector had done. For a moment, I felt like a monarch butterfly, stuck to a board and wriggling on a pin.