The Tick-Tock Trilogy Box Set Read online

  I only ever had a real beard for about six months in my early twenties. It was about two years into my marriage to Karyn. She claimed she liked the look of it but didn’t like kissing me with it. That was fine by me. Our relationship never really took off in a physical sense. I was dreading having the conversation with her but managed to sit her down before we got married to explain I was impotent. Some days we would try to fool around and I would climax but it was a very low percentage of the time. I still pleased Karyn on occasion and we would be intimate in some small way almost every night. We often fell asleep in each other’s arms. But I was ashamed and stressed out that my dick didn’t work. She was very understanding. It didn’t become an issue at all until we wanted to have kids. We read a lot of self-help books and visited doctors about my condition. But after four years of frustratingly failing to conceive, we had to admit defeat. Karyn had looked into adoption for almost eighteen months before I accepted the idea. I didn’t know anybody who had been adopted and thought it would be an admission to all our family and friends that my dick didn’t work. But Karyn had talked me around and even introduced me to a few people who were either adopted or had adopted. I realised there was no stigma attached to this type of thing in the nineties.

  Karyn’s family connections helped us to skip some of the dragging protocol when we applied for adoption. That’s almost unbelievable. A life of crime got us to the top of the queue to be responsible for a baby. I felt it was totally immoral but not to the extent that I said it to anyone. We’d only have to wait around six months to get our child, not the usual two to three years it took everybody else. We got a phone call one Monday afternoon on the tenth of September in 1993 to tell us we could pick up our son. He had been born four months earlier and was in Sacred Heart in Cork. His mother had been a heavy drug user but we were assured everything was fine with Frank. We named him after Karyn’s grandfather. It wasn’t forced on me. I’m a huge Sinatra fan and calling my kid after the Chairman of the Board was A-okay with me. Karyn and I were like two hyper kids on the three-hour drive to Blackrock. But we instantly grew up as soon as we met him. My life changed in that instant. I’d never known love like it before.

  My mind continues to race, thinking of what Vincent could be doing inside that bank. Even if he has composed himself and is doing as asked he will be at least a half an hour in there. I know the protocol and exactly what’s required for him to take the money out of the vaults. I decide to take a little walk and head towards Merrion Square. There’s a casual little walkway down there that could help calm my mind while I wait on Darragh to get back to me. If Vincent doesn’t pick up, we’ll have a big decision to make. The heat forces me to take my jacket off for the walk. I make sure to remove the phone from the inside pocket and cling on to it in my left hand while my right hand holds the neck of the coat over my shoulder. My strategy for something going wrong at Vincent’s end is to exit as soon as possible. I’d walk east away from all the banks towards the 3Arena before hailing a taxi back west towards Drimnagh where I’m supposed to meet with Dinah later. I would ask the taxi driver to leave me past my destination at the Luas Stop on the Naas Road, meaning I’d have a twenty-minute walk back on myself. I have it all worked out, but this is not a strategy I want to use today. I have to trust that Vincent is okay, but part of me thinks he may have confessed everything inside that bank. I’m starting to feel a little sorry for myself when the phone eventually buzzes in my hand.

  09:05

  Darragh

  ‘Now you fuckin listen to me, cunt hole,’ I shout down the phone before he even has the time to say hello. ‘If you keep messin’ I’ll blow your baby’s head off.’

  I walk over to Ryan and hold the barrel of the gun against his forehead.

  ‘Scream for your sugar daddy,’ I order.

  ‘Vincent, Vincent, are you okay?’ Ryan screeches down the line.

  I have the gun pointed at his brain yet he’s more worried about his boyfriend. I’m obviously not gonna kill him, not yet anyway. I’m aware that the safety is still on.

  ‘Vincent, Vincent … he’s gonna shoot me. He’s gonna shoot me,’ he cries. That’s what I wanted. I take the phone back up to my ear and grin.

  ‘Did you hear that, lover boy?’ I say. ‘Any more messin’ and bang! Now what the fuck went wrong?’

  ‘I-I just felt a little overcome by the whole situation but I’m fine. I just needed to lie down and get some air before I got on with the show. I’m meeting with the assistant bank manager now. Everything is going as you want it to go. I’ll be filling out the paperwork to take the first two million out in the next few minutes.’

  ‘Good girl yerself. Call me as soon as you’re done,’ I say before hanging up. ‘Relax, boy,’ I tell Ryan, who seems to be putting on the crocodile tears just to please me. ‘Here, have this line as well,’ I follow up with, and hold the magazine under his chin while handing him the five-euro note. He doesn’t hesitate. ‘We’ll have some fun while your fagotty boyfriend robs us some money, huh?’

  As Ryan is getting his nose dirty I speed-dial JR. He’ll be delighted I’m returning his call so quickly.

  ‘It’s all good,’ I say to him. ‘He’s in the bank now and is meeting with the branch manager. He’s fine. He just said he needed to take a little time out. He’s gonna ring me as soon as he’s done, like. He’s just about to sign the papers to get the cash. There’s no funny business goin’ on.’

  ‘Great stuff, Darragh. That’s a relief,’ replies JR. I can hear in his voice that he seems much calmer. ‘Thanks, buddy. You’re doing a super job.’

  I’m always chuffed to receive praise from JR. I look up to him so much. My relationship with him is vastly different to the relationship I had with me first boss; it didn’t take long for his gang to catch up with me. It was literally within ten minutes. They had been tailing Piotr’s car and watched on as he walked me into the forest before spinning on his heels. I was shoved into their car and taken back to The Boss. I sat, just as Ryan is now, with me hands tied to a chair in the old warehouse I’d left just an hour before when The Boss walked towards me.

  ‘You two have to be the dumbest mutha fuckers I’ve ever come across,’ he barked. ‘Within an hour you fuck yourselves right up. Did you think we wouldn’t be following you and keeping tabs on our merchandise?’

  ‘Please, sir,’ I said, tryna sound polite. ‘I had no idea Piotr was going to rob me. To rob you. My intentions were always to make you money. To make me money. I want this. I don’t know what happened. I’m as surprised as you are.’

  I received an open-handed slap across the face from The Boss before he put me at ease.

  ‘I believe you,’ he said. ‘But you still deserve a slap. We watched it all go down. What the fuck were you doing teaming up with a guy so fuckin stupid that he would try to rob me?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I replied, shaking me head. ‘We’ve been friends for years. I … I …’ I stumbled. I’m sure The Boss could tell I was being genuine. I should have been filled with fear having one of the most notorious drug lords standing over me, but I was mostly feelin’ heartbroken. I was devastated that me only friend tried to rob me and left me for dead in the hands of these gangsters. I couldn’t get Piotr out of me mind.

  ‘We caught up with your friend,’ The Boss told me. ‘The deal is still alive. He’s not. We thought the two of you had concocted some sort of plan but he told us right before we dealt with him that you had no part in this whatsoever.’

  This caused me jaw to drop towards me chest. Did they kill Piotr? After a moment of silence, I looked up through my wet eyes at The Boss.

  ‘Good,’ I said. ‘Fuck him!’

  ‘We’re gonna spare your life. But your life is ours now, do ya understand?’

  I stare over at Ryan. I can tell he is as high as a kite. His eyes are starting to redden and he’s constantly wrinkling his nose. I want to join in. I reach for the plastic bag of coke that I’d put back into the tin and pour a thick li
ne onto the magazine for meself. It looks so good.

  ‘That’s some good shit,’ I say, smiling over at Ryan after I snort as much of it up one nostril as I can. ‘You and I could become good friends.’

  09:10

  Vincent

  I’ve been sitting upright in Chelle’s office chair waiting on her to come in with the paperwork for the past six minutes. I know it’s exactly six minutes because I haven’t stopped looking at my watch. I need to get this job done. I’m not committing a crime here. I am acting under duress to save my partner’s life. Ryan sounded petrified when he called down the phone to me. But I need to put his cries out of my mind. I’m just going to do as his captor says. No messing about. I need I get back into character.

  ‘I’m so sorry about this, Vincent,’ Chelle says from the doorway of her office.

  I wonder how long she’s been standing there.

  ‘I’m so embarrassed. Janice has had to run out to get some ink. She shouldn’t be long.’

  ‘What?’ I reply a little too dramatically, slapping the palm of my right hand against her oak desk. It stings. Chelle looks stunned. I feel I need to justify my reaction.

  ‘I told you Jonathan needs this money as soon as possible. He’s very low, Chelle.’

  ‘How about I give him a quick call myself to apologise and tell him we’ll get it over as soon as we can?’

  ‘No. Jesus, no. Listen, I’ll look after everything Jonathan’s end. You just get me the paperwork as soon as you can. Where has Janice gone to?’

  ‘There’s a place that sells ink on Frederick Street. She’ll be back in ten minutes. I’m mortified we’ve run out of ink. I don’t recall this ever happening before.’

  I look at my watch. Janice probably won’t be back until around nine twenty-five. This is a terrible start to the morning.

  ‘Chelle,’ I say, rubbing my forehead. ‘Just get me a coffee will you, please?’

  I stare around her office and notice her qualifications framed on the walls. She actually has more certificates than I have. I fuckin’ hated studying. I auditioned for at least forty roles after landing the part of Nick in Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? but didn’t land one of them. After that play, I spent eighteen months unemployed and living off my parents. My da was getting tetchy. I was the only one of my friends that wasn’t moving on to pastures new as we were turning twenty-one. Bennett, one of my closest friends through secondary school, moved to London to take up an internship with a tech company called Black Castle. My very best friend, Keith, had been studying in Galway since we left school and still had another two years of his marketing masters to go. They were literally going places while my life seemed to be stagnating. I just had to get out of my parents’ house but the only light at the end of that tunnel seemed to come from accepting my father’s invitation to work at his bank. I hated the type of work I was doing from day one, but I somehow got talked into studying accountancy at night to ensure I could be on the big bucks in the future.

  It amazes me that not enough people follow their dream. We only have eighty years on this planet, on average, yet most of us spend forty hours of our weeks working on something we fuckin’ despise. How does that make sense? Why would we do that? Yet I’m one of those dumb schmucks who spends half the time I’m awake doing something I don’t like doing. As soon as I received my degree in accountancy in 1992 I left TSB. I didn’t want to be working with me da. He understood and saw to it that I got a great reference, which helped me get through my interview for a banking official’s position with ACB. I’ve never liked banking but I have to admit that it suits my natural skill sets. I’m very straight up and immensely efficient. My brain is also dialled up to deal with numbers. I’ve learned over the years that I don’t have a great creative brain. That disappoints me so much. All through my teens I figured I was one of the creative types. I guess I was wrong. I was only twenty-eight years old when I was appointed assistant manager of ACB’s Drumcondra branch, having worked at the company for less than five years. I was the youngest person ever to reach that position. The board of directors thought highly of me and the feeling was mutual. Unfortunately, the old guys have either retired or passed away since then, leaving their spoilt little snotty offspring in charge of decisions they just don’t care enough about. They are so clueless that it stuns me on a regular basis. ACB is back running a healthy business in Ireland. I know for sure it’s because of me. I think the board assume it’s because of them. Fuckin’ idiots.

  Chelle is full of apologies again as she returns with my coffee. I don’t budge off her big-ass leather chair, leaving her to sit in the more uncomfortable visitor’s seat. I huff a bit of puff to remind her how frustrated I am, but we soon get talking about our lives. Chelle has always been fascinated with Ryan. She can’t wait to read his novel.

  ‘It’s coming along well,’ I lie to her.

  I sometimes wonder if Chelle only asks me about Ryan so that I return the politeness by asking about her perfect little family. I don’t this morning. Instead, I allow an awkward silence to fill the room after I’m done lying about Ryan’s book. She’s clearly aware that I’m upset with her. This must be killing her inside.

  09:10

  Darragh

  This coke is so fuckin good. I roll up the note again to take another small line and promise meself as I’m doing it that I shouldn’t get too carried away. I’m only supposed to be taking this to relieve the boredom and to help me relax. This isn’t about partying it up. I shake me head with delight as the coke hits me brain again.

  ‘Where do you get this stuff from, fag?’ I ask Ryan.

  ‘I know a guy,’ he answers. ‘I can sort you out. I can keep you in this type of pure coke every day for the rest of your life if you just let me go.’

  I stare at his face and fake laugh as loud as I can.

  ‘Dude, in about three hours’ time I’m gonna have millions to me name. Why the fuck do you think I would give that up for a little splash of your coke every now and then, like? Where I’m goin’ and what I’m gonna be able to do will give me the best of every world. Don’t have any fears that I won’t be enjoyin’ life after I leave here today, boy.’

  ‘What’s your plan?’ he asks.

  He must think I’m stupid. ‘Now why the fuck would I tell you that, fag boy?’

  The truth is I don’t actually have a plan. JR and I have been obsessing about this robbery for months but I never really got to the point where I figured out what I want to do when it’s all over. I just want to stay a gangster. I want to be a hitman for JR. The money is insignificant to me. Once I have enough cash for a few beers and a few lines of coke every evening, that’s enough for me. I get me real kicks out of carrying out thefts or killing people. I’m not sure why I haven’t thought it through, but the coke is helping to open me mind further. I start to wonder about JR and what he’ll do after we steal this eight mill. I hope he’s not planning on retiring. As far as I’m concerned, we’re just getting’ started. I know JR has never pulled off a heist that brought in this amount of money before, but I never thought to ask him what he plans on doing with the cash once he has his hands on it. JR’s been a gangster most of his life. I’m sure that’s not gonna end today. Once a gangster, always a gangster. Me old boss must’ve had millions to his name but that didn’t stop him continuing in his job.

  I was just a common street drug dealer for him but I always figured it was my first rung on the ladder to gangland fame. I was lucky they believed Piotr’s story about me and that my life was spared. I was grateful that Piotr stuck up for me but me mourning for him didn’t last too long. According to The Boss, I owed him big time so I was forced to sell his merch on the streets of north inner-Dublin for little or no profit comin’ in my direction. I’d have to prove meself trustworthy before the initial deal offered to me and Piotr would be put back on the table. But once it was, I would be pocketing the full twenty grand profit every month for meself. Sounded good to me. I had to work up a load of cont
acts in the area to sell to, but despite a slow start I began to talk to the proper lads in the area. They were intimidating at first but once they understood I was selling for The Boss it earned me an awful lot of respect. It also kept rival drug dealers away from me. They didn’t want to start a patch war with my gang. It made me feel like I was finally worth somethin’.

  In each of the first three months, I returned to The Boss having sold around eighty per cent of the drugs. He’d rant and rave, saying it wasn’t enough, but I’m pretty sure he was impressed that I could shift this much in an area I didn’t really know that well. I was delighted to be a drug dealer but passing small bags of coke to guys outside bars and through car windows wasn’t really pushing me buttons after a while. I was involved with a feared gang, and I wanted to get my hands really dirty. While my eyes were on bigger prizes I was determined not to get complacent. I’d learned through me new mates that the cops could smell complacency from miles away. Durin’ one shitty evening I was cornered by two guys waving their Garda badges at me. I had sold a lot of my merch already that day but I was still left with a few small bags in the boot of the car. I felt confident they wouldn’t find it when they searched but the younger of the two cops lifted my spare wheel with one hand and checked inside the tyre.

  ‘Looks like you’re fucked!’ he said to me and grinned. ‘Get inside the car, now.’

  The two of them spoke to me for about an hour, insisting they wouldn’t arrest me if I gave up some bigger fish. They wanted me to rat out me mates in order for me to be set free. Fuck that. I’d learned from Goodfellas that you never rat on your friends. As it turned out, I was talking to two of them. I’d no idea. They were friends of The Boss and had set me up just to check out whether I could be trusted or not. I passed with flyin’ colours. It was some relief. I was shittin’ it sitting inside that car but I never wavered. Not for one second did I think about dobbin’ the boys in.