EDITING: Politics and Poison

Chapter Nine: Joe on the Job

Joe Hardy: An officer was waiting, to firmly grab Deirdre Shannon, drag her off to the interrogation room. McGuinness came barreling into the reception area, eyes smouldering with silent fury. I was reminded of Collig in the summer holidays, when teenage hooligans came flocking to the station, like pigeons (his metaphor, not mine).

"What on earth are you playing at?" McGuinness roared, as soon as Shannon was out of ear shot. "I just told your brother to stop meddling! This is not some small town case of a stolen kitten! This is a high profile case, perhaps a serial killer! There is no way I am having some kid from outside jurisdiction, poking his nose in serious affairs!"

I imagined his tirade in writing, as if it were a comic book dialogue. There were a lot of exclamation marks, and stars and hashes. He was pretty mad.

"What was my brother doing here?" I asked placidly, trying to be pleasant.

"He stopped by to offer his help. I am perfectly fine with you wanting to give a hand and chip in, as long as I can keep an eye on what you're doing." McGuinness was resigned.

He slumped, wet his lips. "Anyway, you know now. So don't let's repeat this conversation."

"Okay."

"What have you got for me?" McGuinness nodded his head to the hall. I assumed he meant Deirdre Shannon.

I hurriedly explained her presence. McGuinness nodded and turned on his heel. He said over his shoulder, "You can watch. I'll ask the questions. Not a word, Hardy. You hear me? Otherwise, you're out."