The Dead Yard (28 page)

He clicked off the phone and looked at me.

"You don’t have to worry about me, pal," I said.

He smiled, rubbed his chin.

"Listen, Sean, I think you’re ok, but Jesus, we have to be careful. We don’t really know you
from Adam. So after we get rid of this bitch we’re going to have to give you a bit of the old
fucking third degree, ok?"

I said nothing.

Touched leaned against the wall, shook his head, got a glimpse of Samantha out of the corner
of his eye, grinned.

"Yeah, Sean, it’s like this. Gerry and me have already decided we’re going to split town for a
few days. We can’t do anything with the FBI breathing down our necks and they’re going to get
nervous when their agent disappears. We’ll dump her body and we’ll clean this place so it’s
spic-and-span even under the UV lights but, still, they’ll definitely increase surveillance on us
when they realize that she’s missing. But we’ll have the drop on them. We’ll be up in Maine at
Gerry’s cabin, which he has kept off the books and no one even knows about. It’s a fantastic
spot. Aye, remember we talked about it? He calls it the Dead Yard because of the trains. Even if
they are looking, the FBI wouldn’t find us in a million years. "

"What’s up there?"

"Nothing’s up there. Except us. We’ll be up there and hopefully with a wee surprise, too."

Touched looked at his black T-shirt, speckled with blood and saliva and God knows what
else.

"This T-shirt’s ruined," he said, leering, itching to tell me details. How she was an
uncooperative cow, how she bled so easy, how she screamed under the gag…

He coughed, blinked. Motioned me to get up and go downstairs. I went ahead of him down the
steps and into the shop. He went to the door, checked the street, pulled the blinds, grabbed a
Flake bar, threw it to me. I shook my head and forced a hurt and disappointed look onto my
face.

"Eat your chocolate," he said. "That’s why you came in."

"I came in to get some for Kit, we had a bit of a fight."

"Eat it, you’ll need energy for later."

I shook my head.

"What’s the matter with you? Are you upset about her upstairs?"

"If she was a British agent, she got what was coming to her," I said.

"Are you pissed off at me for doubting you?" he asked.

"No, it’s not that either. It’s just, you know, things look like they’re getting a bit out of
control," I said, to show him that I was a naive immigrant who knew nothing of this violent world
he inhabited.

Touched was sympathetic.

"I know, Sean. I know. From your perspective things probably look really fucked up about now.
But you gotta believe me, mate, these are just setbacks but they’re not fatal setbacks. Ok, so we
don’t know what the hell happened to Seamus. If you ask me, he’s either dead or he’s on his way
to fucking Australia by now. Doesn’t matter, unless that soldier boy IDs you and Jackie, and the
news says he can’t do any descriptions, then we can draw a line through that episode and forget
the whole thing. And this, well, you could almost see this as a good thing. Now we know the feds
are keeping tabs on us, so we’ll all have to be more careful," he said.

I nodded, unconvinced.

"Come on, mate, cheer up, you don’t want to look this blue when the lads show up," he said,
giving me a wink.

Touched seemed a different man than the morose and depressed character of this morning. A
couple of hours of rape and torture had clearly invigorated him.

"But you’ve murdered one of their agents now. Won’t that make things worse?" I asked, making
sure I said the word
murdered,
not
killed
.

"No, they’ll never find her. Not where we’re going to put her. They won’t know what happened
to her. It’ll fuck them up for weeks. And let’s say the feds
are
watching us, the last
thing they’ll expect us to do is what we’re going to do next. They’ll figure we’ll be running
scared. They’ll think that. Not us, mate. You’ll see, Sean, we’ll impress you yet. And if you go
back to Ireland someday, you’ll say that the Sons of Cuchulainn were the baddest, smartest,
coolest lads you ever worked with. You’ll see."

Touched laughed. He was so excited and relaxed that it was making me physically ill.

"So what happens next, tonight?" I asked.

"Gerry, me, you, and Jackie are going to dig a hole in the salt marsh on Plum Island and
dispose of that lass. Then me and you are going back to Gerry’s house and I’m going to have to
question you like you’ve never been questioned before. And then, after that, as much as you were
on probation before, you’ll be in purgatory now," he said dispassionately.

"What about the mess upstairs?"

"I’m going to be busy with you. Gerry is not in the best physical shape, so I suppose young
Jackie will have to spend most of the night doing that. I’ll swing by in the morning with my UV
scanner to check it out. Be a job, but don’t worry about that, the hard work will be good for
him."

There was a knock at the back door.

"There’s the boys," Touched said.

Touched kept me in pistol shot and opened the back door. Gerry and Jackie were dressed in old
clothes, carrying a holdall and a huge plastic sail cover that presumably was to be the
improvised body bag. Jackie limped over and shook my hand. Gerry, too, greeted me warmly.

"Sean," Gerry said loudly. "I believe the shadow of suspicion has been draped over you. Not to
worry.
Macte nova virtute puer
. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Kit told
me about the little trick she pulled, no wonder you needed some refreshment after your long
walk."

"What are you going to do to him?" Jackie asked.

"We’re going to have to quarantine Sean a wee bit," Touched said. "And check him out."

Jackie looked upset.

"I don’t mind it, Jackie, really, better safe than sorry. I mean, I can totally see Touched’s
point of view," I said.

"Anyway, don’t worry. We’re going to have a grand few days. We’re going to switch to plan B
and we’re going to go to the cabin," Gerry said.

"I’ve filled him in already, Gerry, can’t let him know too much, though; I told him he’s going
to be in purgatory for a wee bit," Touched announced.

"Of course. We’ll have to keep an eye on you," Gerry said, slapping me on the back a little
too hard.

"Ok," I said.

"These are difficult times," Gerry said, his eyes tight and betraying nothing.

I nodded and Jackie came over and patted me on the back too. Not like Gerry. Gentle,
affectionately.

"I believe in you. You were cool under pressure last night and as far as I’m concerned you’re
a mate for life. And, for, for, for my part that shit between us is all in the past," Jackie
said, his cheeks reddening.

I give him a Gleason tap under the chin.

"Thanks, Jackie," I said, trying to sound moved.

"Well, if the fucking lovefest is over, we have work to do," Touched declared. "Gerry, since
you are not the most physically able of the four of us, I’m going to have to ask you to keep Sean
covered with the gun. I know it’s bloody distasteful but you’ll have to do it."

Gerry nodded and gave me a sympathetic look. Touched opened Gerry’s holdall, removed overalls
and gloves. We put them on. Touched grabbed the sail bag and led us upstairs.

We went into the Mediterranean blue bedroom, with the lovely pictures and new drapes. Jackie
took one look at the bed and had to leave. We heard him retch into the toilet bowl.

"Make sure you bloody flush," Touched said.

I looked at her again. Samantha was naked, cold, but she didn’t look dead. Even disfigured,
there was, even now, a hint of the woman. That big personality who, if she could, would be
telling me to keep a cool head and be careful.

There she was, still and lifeless, three men in her web, looking at her.

"Better get started," Touched said.

Gerry didn’t say anything, which in itself was remarkable.

No "Oh my God, Touched, what the fuck have you done?" or "You’re a fucking animal, we need to
get you help" or "This time you’ve gone too far," nothing like that. Just a shrug and on with the
bloody task at hand.

I untied her wrists and lifted her by the head, secretly caressing her frigid cheek.

"That’s the ticket, Sean. Hold her up. Get in here, Jackie," Touched said, lifting her legs.
We eased her into the sail bag and Gerry zipped it up.

"I don’t recognize her at all, are you sure about this, Touched? I mean, just because she
drove past our house a couple of times," Gerry wondered.

"No mistake, Gerry, I’m telling you she was FBI. I promise. I’m ninety-nine percent sure."

Gerry nodded. That was good enough for him. It had to be good enough for him.

We carried Samantha to the stairs and as far as I could I made sure the passage down was
gently done. Gerry checked that the coast was clear and we heaved the body outside to one of his
big white vans. We shut the van and closed, but didn’t lock, the back door of All Things Brit.
Touched drove us away from the scene of butchery, Gerry pointing the gun from the front, Jackie
and me in the back with Samantha.

We hit the Plum Island turnpike, went over the bridge, and turned right towards the wildlife
sanctuary. This was almost the very spot Samantha and I had been at last night. And here she was
again in different circumstances entirely.

We easily skirted the barrier the Department of Fish and Wildlife had put up to stop people
going into the reserve after dark and drove about a mile down the single-lane road, finally
coming to a halt at a sign marked "Salt Pan."

All four of us got out. A desolate part of the island, between barren sand dunes and the tidal
marsh with no trace of people, birds, anything.

Gerry distributed shovels and Jackie, Touched, and myself began digging a hole in the weird,
sucking, salty earth.

I began to get nervous.

Of course, they could just as easily shoot me and throw me down this hole too.

I could, at any moment, make a break for it, run off into the darkness. But Touched and Jackie
were very fit. They’d track me and kill me for sure. And from what I’d read, Touched was a
marksman.

I looked up at the waxing moon and the surroundings.

Not much cover in these dunes.

I decided to play it cool, for now. Though I’d have to give it a go if I twigged that they
were going to execute me.

"Why bury her here, Touched?" I asked.

"It’s a good spot," Touched replied. "The ground is so salty no big animals can stand it, so
nothing’s going to dig her up. She’ll stay here undiscovered, pretty much until the end of bloody
time. I found out about this place, when, uh, when, well, let’s just say, I had a similar problem
about a year ago. Woman trouble. You know what’s it’s like. ’Course I had to do the digging all
by myself. Gerry would not help me."

"Damn right, Touched, you got yourself into that mess and no bloody mistake," Gerry said and
chuckled as if Touched had failed to pay his parking tickets or been caught sneaking into the
cinema.

Touched wiped the sweat from his brow and took a breather. It was now a hot, sweaty night and
naturally the flies were murderous. Gerry, keeping the gun on me and excused from digging, passed
us a water bottle. We all took a swig.

"Have you been to Maine before, Sean?" he asked when I gave him the water back.

"Nope," I said, grunting between shovels.

"You’ll like it. Fall in the Maine woods is a truly beautiful experience. And I think the
leaves just might be starting to turn when we get up there, although it’ll probably still be too
early. We’ll see."

We dug for another fifteen minutes. When Touched called a halt, I was relieved to see that
there was room enough for only one body. We laid Samantha in her final resting place and threw in
our overalls and Touched’s bloody clothes. When no one was looking, I put my cell phone in one of
my gloves and dropped it in too, just in case they had the wit to check the call log. Now there
was no link between me and her.

I made sure my shovel was the first to throw the dirt on her. It’s not an insult, it’s a
blessing, I said to myself.

We filled in the hole quicker than we dug it. Touched stamped down the sand and put his hands
on his hips, admiring a job well done.

He looked at Gerry.

"The old ways?" Touched asked.

"We got time?" Gerry replied.

"Aye," Touched said. "Come on, lads."

Touched unzipped his jeans, took out his penis, and began urinating on the grave. Gerry began
unbuttoning his fly and I saw that this was an opportunity not to be missed. I unzipped my pants
and unleashed a strong stream of urine onto the grave.

"Fucking bitch," I muttered under my breath but loud enough for the boys to hear.

Gerry laughed and Touched nodded with satisfaction.

"Come on, Jack, you too," Touched said.

Jackie took out his prick but he couldn’t pee. He wasn’t a bad sort, Jackie, and this was all
just too much for him.

"I can’t go," he said when the three of us were finishing up.

"Forget it, Jackie. It’s enough. We better get cracking," Gerry said.

Touched grunted and took something out of his pocket.

"I’d be much obliged if you put these on, Sean," Touched said, passing me a pair of
handcuffs.

Jackie was incensed.

"Is that really necessary? For fucksake, he’s one of us," he said.

"Jackie, you shut the fuck up now. I’m head of security here and I’ve already explained to
Sean why I’m suspicious and he understands it."

"I don’t mind, Jack," I told him.

I zipped my pants and cuffed my hands in front of me. Touched checked that they were tight
with a tug on both wrists that made me flinch with a momentary flash of terror, for now that I
was safely restrained this was another occasion for an abrupt change of mood: screaming, yelling,
kicking me to the ground….