Chapter 17

The Bossman, whom we have already introduced earlier in our narrative, albeit implicitly, was a very large black man, whose seaside house was situated on Bray strand, on its fashionable north end.

The north end was of course the good end, the end that looked on to the Martello Tower, the end that stood beside the harbour, where the rich and nearly rich kept their boats moored.

Up and down all day in front of those waves.

How do they do it!

So happy and carefree!

The house’s large bay window faced the sea formidably and its veranda was littered with a vast array of exotic plants from both home and abroad. You can imagine it yourself. It seemed that nothing of the house’s exterior did not contribute to the gargantuan character of its owner. Indeed, everything inside said this as well. Any visitors would be mistaken into believing that every object had had to pass some visual test in order to win its place as an object of adornment.

This was not case.

For all it the house just happened to be there when the Bossman arrived, and in truth he liked nothing of its contents. Its previous occupant, one Josey McBride, had been found floating face side down in the Irish Sea just days after the arrival of its new owner.

As usual, police leads led to nothing.

Foundered upon all.

As they usually do.

It transpired that McBride had left all to the Bossman, even his horse. For just days before his death, McBride entered a solicitor on Fleet Street and signed everything over to the Bossman. That is was not his own solicitor meant nothing. But the supervising Garda, Michael O’Rourke (Wash’s predecessor), did not accept this and he attempted (somewhat naively) to pursue this, and several other, leads.

But he too ended up face down for his troubles, alongside the remains of McBride’s horse.

—You think you’re smart, but I’m smarter.

Hahaha.

Indeed. Haha.

The Bossman laughed it all off each time the Detective called out to his new seaside house.

It was a farce.

Over the course of three months, O’Rourke had driven out to Bray in order to shake up the situation.

That was his own expression, not mine.

He liked it.

—If you put one foot on my veranda, I’ll cut it off.

—Is that a threat?

—Whether it is or not, I can assure you it will happen.

—We’ll see about that.

The Bossman imagined taking a hack-saw to O’Rourke’s leg and cutting it right off.

Filthy bastard.

Sometime after this (the last incident) O’Rourke was found face down with a large open wound in his head. It seems he had been beaten with something extremely solid, a lead pipe of some kind, blunt perhaps. It was not known whether or not he was still alive when the ramped the pipe up some unspeakable place and twisted and pushed it until all was very damaged and broken but it was that pipe that was certainly used to bash his brains in.

Out.

They knew this, because there was lead in his head. But they choose not to do anything. Because hours earlier the Bossman had called head office and told them that was just the start and if they wanted more bodies then they should proceed as before. All he wanted to do (as far as he was concerned) was to sit out on his veranda in his rocking chair and read a bit and smell the fauna and floral and watch the tide come in and go out again and see its ebb and flow. That was all.

To be calm.

Content and confident.

To not want anything that much. To try to achieve a certain sense of tranquillity.

Like the Buddhists.

Whether or not this actually happened, some guy at head office called Walsh the following day and told him to cease with his investigations. There was nothing to be done and there was no point annoying a good upstanding citizen. The last three words especially pissed Walsh off.

A good.

Upstanding.

—The motherfuckingbitchsbastardsshithole. Bollox as well.

He had a way with words.

−I concur.

All his subsequent calls to head office were either differed or unanswered.

And so it was.

They left him alone.

Or so it seemed.

But Walsh knew, in his heart of hearts, that he would have to go it alone.

And so he did.