Guard the House! Page #4

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Special Agent Wendell Everett of...

Sir?

Sir?

Seen this guy?

What about this one?

No? You don't speak English

either, huh?

This is the life.

Are we to assume

you're satisfied with the service?

I'm totally drained, sure.

I've no jism left.

Be giving us a good review

at the agency now.

Oh, five stars.

- Only wish I'd brought me handcuffs.

- There's always next time.

- You'd be into a bit of bondage?

- Only for you, Sergeant.

Only for you.

Ah, for f***'s sake.

I do not understand.

Just because his car is here,

why does it mean he killed himself?

It's a suicide hot spot.

A lot of the locals have

drowned themselves here.

That's why we have to put up

with these prima donnas.

I do not think

Aidan committed suicide.

Neither do I, to be honest with ye.

Didn't seem intelligent enough.

Course, if it's not suicide,

then it's foul play.

Foul play?

Murder. Malice aforethought.

But I cannot think who would have

wanted to do something bad to Aidan.

He's a guard.

Somebody somewhere probably

had a grudge against him.

It's a better theory than suicide,

in my view.

Is there anything you can tell me

that might have a bearing on all this?

- Anything personal?

- He's gay.

He's gay. You know,

when one man puts his...

I'm familiar with

the mechanics of it, yeah.

I just didn't realise.

Do you think he met someone there

who would do something bad to him?

Like, you know, what do you say?

- Like a rent boy or something?

- Yeah, a rent boy.

No, there's not much call for rent boys

around here, as far as I know.

Maybe in town.

Why'd you marry him?

For the visa, I suppose?

It's just between you and me.

Yes. I get a visa and he looks...

- Respectable.

- Yes, respectable.

Wendell.

Hmm, nice outfit.

Do you juggle as well?

F*** you, Sergeant.

Hot whiskey, John-Joe, please.

And a cold one while I'm waiting.

- Yourself?

- Er, Guinness.

Two Guinnesses as well, John-Joe.

Like the fat man said, if you have

to be careful not to drink too much,

it's because you're not to be trusted

when you do. Any luck?

Not a damn thing.

Man, these people out here are...

- I know. It's like Compton, huh?

- Exactly.

They're not too keen on talking

to the law, that's for damn sure.

- Most don't even speak English.

- They speak English well enough.

This is a Gaelic-speaking region.

Did they not teach you that at Langley?

No, they did not teach me that

at Langley.

For the simple fact that Langley's

the CIA, you idiot, not the FBI.

You didn't know people in the west of

Ireland speak Gaelic and I'm the idiot?

Whatever.

- How was your day off?

- Energetic.

Something's come up.

I'm not talking about my cock.

One of my men's gone missing.

McBride.

I spotted his car in a known suicide

spot. He was on duty at the time.

- Any sign of foul play?

- Not as far as we know.

But you don't think it's suicide.

What, then?

First McCormick gets murdered,

now a guard disappears.

It's too much of a coincidence.

Could be he stumbled

onto something and got...?

- Whacked?

- Whacked, yeah.

His first day on the job in Connemara,

too. Talk about bad luck.

Yeah. But, er, where do we start?

I say we start with these two lads

and we take it from there.

Sllnte.

That's Gaelic.

What's the first case you ever solved?

- Stealing an ostrich.

- What?

Guy stole an ostrich,

transported it across state lines.

Had something to do with the eggs

or something.

It's more original than dealing crack,

anyway. You ever have crack?

- Do you think I'd tell you if I had?

- I've had it.

Yet again, I don't think you should be

telling me these kinds of things.

They say if you have one hit

you're hooked, but that's shite.

It's propaganda for kids.

You certainly are an unconventional

police officer, Sergeant Boyle.

- Thank you.

- That was not meant as a compliment.

Ah, now, you're only messing,

I know that.

What's so fascinating?

Hmm.

I had what I thought was a crank call

saying the person responsible

for McCormick's death

was this lad Billy Devaney.

Oh.

- Which one's Devaney? The Italian?

- Yeah.

Devaney's alibi is that

he was in Hanley's on the night

battering Joey Brennan there.

- So?

- So I was thinking...

Maybe whoever made the crank call

was there on the night, saw Billy...

Saw Billy Devaney assaulting Brennan

and decided to throw him in the frame

for McCormick too.

Exactly.

Jesus, he gave him a hell of a clout.

Christ, he's strong for a little lad.

Whoa. Freeze it, freeze it.

- No, no, go back.

- F***.

Give it...

Goddamn, that's Sheehy and Cornell.

Look at it. They're here.

Like a donkey f***ing

a hippopotamus, it's party time.

What?

Like a donkey f***ing

a hippopotamus, it's party time.

- What the f*** are you on about?

- Sheehy said...

He was taking the piss,

for f***'s sake.

That's nice. Is that real leather?

Why, what am I, f***ing cheap?

It's all there, yeah?

- Excuse me?

- It's all there?

No, it's not. I've skimmed

a couple of grand off the top.

- What?

- Course it's f***ing all there.

This is the pay-off, yeah?

We pay you off,

you and your pals keep your

f***ing noses out of our business.

That's the dynamic of this situation.

Why the f*** would I then cheat you

out your money? Eh?

Why would I do that?

That doesn't make any sense.

That'd defeat the entire purpose

of the f***ing interaction. F*** me!

Somebody got out of bed

the wrong side this morning.

F***in' Brits.

The big city boys.

But these are the three main ports?

Barna, Spiddal, Rossaveal.

OK, let's get three teams

in each of those places.

And I wanna move up and down

the coast, point by point.

Big map. People pointing.

Must be important.

I wanna move the teams up and down

the coast, point by point.

We'll do it in about 48 hours.

All happening now, huh?

Excuse me a moment.

Sorry, I didn't mean to insult...

Don't you ever f***in' grab me

like that again.

Don't you ever speak to me

like that again.

You have your f***in' zombies

around you now.

Mobile phones, computers.

Very f***in' sophisticated.

We're working on a vitally important

case. What I need from you...

What do you need from me, Wendell,

apart from a cup of f***in' coffee?

Boyle, some mad lad

wants to talk to ya.

His cat's probably stuck up a tree

or something.

You should probably take that.

So, logistically,

what we're gonna need is...

- Where is it?

- Beyond.

They didn't hide it very well. Sloppy.

Well, they were probably out here

after dark.

Be a lonely old job up here at night.

Yeah, probably ghosts up here

and everything. Poltergeists.

I don't know about the poltergeists.

There's nothing to peg around.

- What were you doing up here?

- Heroin.

You'll get a belt, Eugene,

if you carry on with that craic.

Give us a hand here.

- What?

- You've taken something.

- I have not.

- You've taken something.

You didn't even act surprised.

This is like the Birmingham Six

all over again!

Hand it over, you little sh*t.

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