Veronica Guerin Page #2

One of the benefits of being self-employed.

You're amazing, John.|No, really, you're a model of... profitability.

How to succeed in business|without any customers.

- I do well enough.|- Yeah, well...

There must be a few bob|in those brothels there on Rathgar Road.

What they worth now, John?

- You're a dangerous little b*tch.|- Ah, well. Do my best. Buy us a drink?

It's the benefit of being self-employed,|John. You are your own boss, aren't you?

You're way off the mark. Martin Cahill|isn't into the drugs. Neither am l.

You sure?

We're just ordinary, decent criminals.

If you're not going to take my word for it,|why don't you ask Martin?

- He's very fond of the ladies.|- Yeah, exactly. So set it up for me.

Why are you chasing the drugs?|You should be after the pubs.

- They do more damage than the drugs.|- Yeah, right.

Yeah?

No. I tried that. It was a dead end.

Call you back? Grand.

So how many guys|are you working for stories at once?

A less generous person|might say you were ungrateful

for what I gave you already.

Stealing old paintings, kidnapping bankers'|families. You're above that now, are you?

I got you famous with those stories.

Yeah, you feed me superficial crap.

- I make you look good.|- Great picture.

Come on. I need your help to get to Cahill.|Write me a reference.

I'm late for an appointment.

Word of advice.|Stay away from Martin Cahill.

Sorry to disturb you.

Are you Mrs Cahill? Frances Cahill?

Right.

Are you Frances Cahill?

- I am.|- Hi. I'm Veronica.

- I'm a friend of John Traynor's.|- I know who you are.

Is your husband home?|I just want to ask him a favour.

Martin Cahill doesn't|do favours for journalists.

So piss off.

There's a rumour going about he's putting|drugs on the street. You got any comment?

I know he nailed a tout to the floor of a flat|the other day. Was it drug-related?

Look, I just want a brief comment.|Off the record.

I'll be out of your...

Mr Cahill! You couldn't|do me a favour, could you?

I need the names of those kids|who are selling drugs for you.

And I'll do you a favour. I won't write|what people are saying about you.

You know, that you're having kids|with your wife's sisters.

There's me number. Give me a call.

Cheers.

So, what can I do for you, Veronica?

How could you lose a body?

- That's just downright careless.|- You find some, you lose some.

It'll turn up. Those bodies always do.

So you gonna join those crying foul?

''More Garda incompetence.|Is this why we pay our taxes?''

Some might say it's incompetent, but|you could say it's that you're understaffed.

Your hands are tied. You couldn't maintain|24-hour surveillance on that murder site.

People should know that.|I mean, I think someone should write that.

And if someone did write that,|what would that someone want in return?

I talked to the couple you detained|after the weekend in Amsterdam.

Held for 48 hours cos they bought|nothing there but a box of condoms.

How does it feel to wait around for a mule|to shite out a condom full of drugs?

You and I both know that the courier's|the lowest man in the organisation.

Somewhere some Mr Big is sitting there,|laughing at you and your stool sample.

You can't touch him. I want -|we both want - to get Mr Untouchable.

What are you gonna do when you get him?

Your paper's so scared|that some big criminal is gonna sue them,

they employ more lawyers than journalists.

Well, I mean,|there's more than 300,000 people.

I don't want to blow my own trumpet,|but they know Martin Cahill's the General

because, you know,|of what I write in the Sunday Independent.

- At least they know what he's up to.|- Great, for your readers.

But does it help me|put him behind bars, does it?

We're on the same side, Chris.

Now, I trained as an accountant, right?

If I could have a look at these files,|then I could go after those other wankers.

Put some pressure on them.

Come on.

Go on.

Look, I've got some more packing to do.|I'll be back in an hour or so.

Looking forward to reading|someone's column on Sunday.

''For the Coach every day is lotto day.''

''What others might earn in a decade,|he can conjure up in an afternoon.''

''His Swiss scam was such a stroke,|a child of his remarkable ingenuity.''

''The fruits of a complex fraud...''

- The Coach, boss.|- What?

Never knew you were|such a horse lover, John.

- What took you so long?|- The traffic.

Nothing to do with that woman|who writes for the Sunday Indo?

- Did the boys say something?|- That's not the question, Johnny.

The question is:
|what did you say to that woman?

Nothing important.

She fancies me, so I humour her.

You know why I'm successful, Johnny?|I lead a quiet life.

Nobody knows what I'm doing,|and that's very good for business.

When you talk to that b*tch and when she|writes about you, you feel like a movie star.

Don't think she doesn't know|how to use that, because she does.

You're not as smart as you think you are.|That makes you a liability.

Remember this. If that b*tch|ever mentions my name, you pay.

You like playing the gangster, do you?

Do you? It makes you feel like a big man.|Does it make you feel like a big man?

How does it feel now?|Heap of shite! You heap of shite!

- John, please...|- You bunch of eejits.

Who's the f***ing genius|messing with the gun around my horses?

You don't insult me boys, Gerry.|You leave that to me.

Unless you want|some of the same yourself.

Word of advice.|Keep your f***ing mouth shut.

I called you here|cos we've got a debt to settle.

What debt?

Your man Martin Cahill thinks|over half a million quid is owed him.

I got him to loan us that money to start up|the operation. If he wants it back...

As far as I'm concerned|that money keeps moving forward.

He lent you the money when you were just|out of prison. Now he's down on his luck.

He can't shift the paintings|from the last job. They're too hot.

- Why don't you just pay him?|- No, no. You don't get it.

When a scumbag like Cahill is down|on his luck, you kick him in the bollocks.

Wouldn't try that with Martin Cahill.

Whose side are you on, Coach?

I just think we should make payment.

Don't you worry about it.|We're gonna make payment.

Jesus!

Are you people f***ing insane?

For a few hundred grand,|you've murdered all of us.

I don't like your tone, Coach.

Maybe the Gards|don't know what you did

but if the rest of the Cahill mob find out,

they'll kill yous|and everyone you did business with.

The IRA has claimed responsibility|for the murder of Martin Cahill.

We are now doing everything in our power|to apprehend and identify the gunmen.

At the moment,|no progress has been made.

This isn't the first execution|we've seen all year.

What progress has been|made on other cases?

I cannot comment|on any other investigation at this time.

Why is progress never made|on any cases involving the IRA?

Cahill's family has stated that the General -|and I quote - ''was not killed by the IRA,

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