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things. As an ex-Coast Guardsman, how could she not know what they were? Well, now slow down, Alex. At that time, she had just heard about a murder
and a messy death, had just come to from a faint in a strange place, surrounded by people she had never even seen before, one of them a cop in full
regalia. Doubtless she was confused, embarrassed, maybe even a little frightened. She just got it garbled up at the moment. She probably just said it to
have something to say.
I was sure that was it. Coincidence was all. But I didn t think Maynard Terrence O Malley s name was a coincidence. Now that had possibilities! I
wondered if Sonny had learned anything during the day. I hoped he d be home for dinner so I could hear the latest.
Fargo pulled on the leash and I speeded up. Both of us were hungry, as we approached the house. Like most Ptown houses and yards, Mom s was
neat and well kept. The straight-up two-story house was a New England style in pale yellow with maroon shutters. The front yard was tiny, with just enough
room for some flowers in season and enclosed by a picket fence and gate painted white, of course.
Like most people I ignored the front door and went up the driveway, past the small side yard with its shade tree and picnic table and benches, and into
the larger backyard. I opened the backdoor to my mother s house and called,  Hi, Mom, I m here! as I had done so often all my life. Wherever I lived, I
knew this house would always, on the bottom line, be home.
I caught the marvelous aroma of sausage and kale soup and fresh-baked homemade rolls. I love my mother, of course, but somehow my feelings seem
even more affectionate at times like this. I gave her a kiss. She was edging toward sixty. Her once-auburn hair now had enough white in it to appear ash-
blonde. But her figure was still good. She had on jeans and a man-tailored lavender shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She seemed younger than her years.
And a splash of flour on one cheek simply gave her a rakish look.
 There s my big baby boy! she crooned to Fargo.  Is he a hungry fellow? Well, he shall have his own special bowl of soup.
 How about me? I asked.
 Oh, you, you ll eat anything. She smiled and patted my arm with a trace less enthusiasm than she had patted Fargo. I tried not to be jealous.
 I m an adult, I can take this, I pouted.
 Now, darling, don t be silly. You can have your special bowl of soup, too. Are you hungry? It s all ready. And I made an apple pie.
Already I felt better.  Should we wait for Sonny? Is he coming home? He said he d try to make it. I hadn t seen his car in the driveway.
Mom glanced out the kitchen window.  He s pulling in right this minute.
He walked into the kitchen shedding his jacket and tie and draping them over a chair. Mom gave me a roll-eyed look and handed them back to him.
Sighing, he put the tie in the jacket pocket and hung the jacket in the hall closet. Then he opened us both a beer and we sat at the kitchen table as we had
on so many evenings of our childhood minus the beer, of course facing each other across the waxed white oak table while Mom busied herself at the
stove.
Dining rooms were for birthdays and holidays and company. We sipped our beers in silence for a few minutes, while I gave him time to start to relax.
Then I said,  Hey, Sonny, Janet came up with an intriguing point regarding Mr. Footless, a.k.a. Mr. Maynard Terrence O Malley, good Irishman that he is
. . . was. There are getting to be several Irish involved here. It seems really possible to me that McKinney made his boat available in some way to the two
thugs. Either O Malley and friend got into a fight before they ever got to the ship, or maybe somebody on the ship didn t want to pay them or maybe
O Malley doubled the price at the last minute. Perhaps even the FBI was on board the ship and now everything is a big cover-up. It makes sense, you
know. I stopped, out of breath.
Sonny leaned back in his chair as Mom served the yummy-smelling soup. He swallowed a spoonful and winced at the heat and took a gulp of beer.  It s
a thought. Usually, though, the IRA does-n t do or even talk much in America about guns. It s pretty much only the political wing of the IRA over here, and
they like to come across as gentle, peace-loving fellas who just raise a little money to help the orphans and widows left by the mean, cruel Brits. Of course
they take the money they collect in America and buy the guns from Syria or Libya, but we aren t supposed to know about that.
 They never ship guns from here? I couldn t believe it.
 Well, hardly ever, he grinned.
 And now you are the master of the queen s nav-vee, Mom interposed.  Eat your soup before it s cold.
 Aye, aye, ma am. Actually, Alex, we should know more very shortly. Chief Wood said he d stop by about now on his way home from the station.
 I think Janet and I were quite clever to think of it. Don t you?
 Yeah. Clever, indeed. I wasn t thinking along those lines at all. Mom, was that apple pie I smelled when I came in?
One thing you could say about Detective Sergeant Peres, his priorities were always in order. At that moment a car door slammed, followed by Chief
Wood s solid tread across the back porch.
 Come on in, Carl, my mother called.
 Jeanne, you get prettier every time I see you! He gave her a peck on the cheek.
 Liar. How s Martha?
 She s fine. So are the kids. Eileen s expecting her first. Carl, Jr. graduates the Academy this June if God is very good. My mother laughed.  Don t
laugh, Jeanne, last year he had the dubious distinction of being eighty-two in a class of eighty-seven.
Sonny stood and the two men shook hands.  Don t worry, Carl, until he s eighty-seven in a class of eighty-two. Then you got a problem.
Mother offered coffee and a slice of pie and was accepted all around.
 Well, Carl, Sonny said between bites,  If you have any news, don t be bashful. Alex is positive we ve stumbled onto some big-time arms deal here.
Have we?
Chief Wood gave me a wink.  Well, I suppose we might have. There were five ships in this general area at about the right time that night. One was a
little coaster headed from Bridgeport to Portsmouth, so I crossed her off. One was a big Exxon supertanker. I didn t think she or her captain fit the bill for a [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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