“Seriously?” Darragh balks, noticing the gleaming Glock in my hand.
I hide it away and reach for the switchblade knife. “As you so rightly pointed out, I am a target. It would be stupid to walk into enemy territory unarmed.”
“Why the gun if you have the hat and coat? I thought the whole point was to stay undercover.”
“It is.”
“Forgive me if I hesitate to see how blowing a hole in a Dublin cop would keep things low-key.”
“If no one sees me, then these beauties won’t need to be used,” I point out, tucking the switchblade into my boot. “I’m just preparing for every scenario.”
“Are you going to let me do my job?” Darragh asks cautiously.
I fix him with a grin. “I wouldn’t dream of interfering.”
I hear him mutter something under his breath. It sounds something like “…hasn’t changed a bit”.
Then we start the walk towards the station.
There are only a few officers manning the place, all of whom look lethargic and disinterested. Darragh goes to the reception desk and asks to speak to the highest ranking officer on duty.
The woman behind the desk looks up from a mountain of paperwork. “What’s this in regard to?” she asks.
“The arrest of Ronan and Sinead O’Sullivan,” Darragh replies.
Her eyes go wide and she gets to her feet almost immediately.
“I’m afraid that’s not—”
“I’m their lawyer,” he interrupts. “And I’m not leaving without talking to my clients. Has bail been posted yet?”
“I can—”
“I’d like to speak to someone who knows something,” he spits. “Right now.”
She lingers for a second and then hurries off.
That’s the thing about Darragh. The man can be ordinary and unassuming one minute. Then dangerous and sinister the next.
People are never what they seem.
When the female cop returns, she’s accompanied by a tall man who reeks of self-appointed authority. His eyes are small and watchful.
I distrust him immediately. But I stay back and keep my head down.
No reason to stir up shit just yet.
“You’re the O’Sullivans’ lawyer?” the officer asks.
“I am. And you must be Sergeant O’Brien,” Darragh says. “I heard about your promotion last year. Wasn’t there an article in the papers?”
He clears his throat gruffly. “There might have been.”
“I remember,” Darragh says with a nod. “Brian Murtagh seemed awfully chuffed to have a man of your caliber in this position.”
Well, fuck me. He’s connected—and not in a good way.
The sergeant’s face darkens instantly as though he’s just been called out. “Mr. Murtagh has no jurisdiction over promotions within the force. I earned this promotion on my own merits.”