Terry Brankin Has a Gun. Malachi O'Doherty
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‘Well, we’re not saying that. Nevan would never say a thing like that. No, our concern is just for the tragedy of a family that has lost everything, and your tenants, who were nearly killed but now have nowhere to live.’
‘It is appalling.’
‘I take it the houses were properly insured, though.’
‘Well, of course.’
‘Well, sure, why not take a call from Nevan at nine o’clock and just let him lead you through a conversation like this.’
‘I don’t think so. I’m beginning to see that this could be twisted in some people’s minds to make us look bad. I think it’s better just to leave it.’
‘We’ll have others on the programme talking about this. You can see the danger, can’t you? If your tenants make allegations against you, and we have to say that you declined to take part …’
‘I’m not declining to talk to the tenants. I’m just declining to do it on radio.’
‘Why, Mrs Brankin? Do you have something to hide?’
‘Screw you,’ she said and hung up.
A text had come in from Nools during that call: ‘You okay? Call if you need anything.’
Kathleen called reception to find out what time they served breakfast to. She ran a bath and sank into it and then there was a knock at the door.
‘It’s me, love.’
If only she could have just half an hour to relax and not think about her problems. She climbed out, dripping, wrapped herself in a towel and opened the door for Terry. He was energised with purpose and plans and seemed to bring urgency into the room with him. She got back into the bath. He paced fretfully about the room talking to her, only glancing in momentarily to see how she was reacting to him.
‘I’m nearly on top of this. Jack will have Damascus Street sorted out today. I’ll stay there for a couple of days anyway. You can stay here for a few days if you prefer, and by then we’ll have one of the flats in Dunluce Avenue ready. I had a quick look in and a clean-up and a new window will do for one of them. I need to get on to the insurance company but this looks paramilitary so it’ll be compensation from the state. If the police play ball.’
‘What could the police do?’
‘They could say I brought this on us through paramilitary activity of my own. Look, the worst is that we would have to sell the site and get somewhere smaller. We wouldn’t be able to rebuild.’
‘And we wouldn’t get compensation for the lost furniture and everything?’
‘No.’
‘Well that’s fair.’
‘Jesus, the things you come out with,’ he said.
Terry stood at the bathroom door and watched the way she was soaping her body as if it was no concern of his, her sullen face turned away from him. He shuddered to think she could have been killed. It would have been a horrible death.
She said, ‘Turn on the radio.’
He looked puzzled.
‘They’ll be talking about us on the Toland show.’ She could see that he was trying to grasp the implications of this news as he walked to the bedside and picked up the remote control. He found the station. The discussion had started.
‘This was a busy night for you in the Fire and Rescue Service?’
‘Well, the first call out was at 3.15 to a house in Damascus Street. This is a residential property and in the area popularly known as the Holy Land. We despatched two appliances but by the time we arrived there was significant scorch and smoke damage and I think it is important to say that incidents like this illustrate the need for a working smoke alarm, which we would urge people to have in their homes and to check every week.’
‘The house had been petrol-bombed,’ said Nevan, trying to bring the man to the point.
‘At this stage we have not ascertained the precise cause of the fire.’
‘Of course you have,’ said Nevan. ‘It was a petrol bomb, wasn’t it?’
‘Well, it is up to the police to issue an official statement, but we can say that first indications are that the fire was exacerbated by an accelerant. That makes it suspicious.’
‘I’ll say it was suspicious. The poor man who owned it had four other houses burnt down last night. Tell me about the others.’
‘The largest fire was at a house in Sallagh Crescent. This fire was at an advanced stage when we got there and there was nothing we could do but control the flames and let it burn out. The premises were totally destroyed. Fortunately, though it was a private residence, there was no one at home.’
‘Is that unusual?’
‘No. Sometimes people leave electrical appliances switched on and plugs in the socket, so this is an appropriate time perhaps to remind people of the necessary precautions. Always unplug all appliances when you go to bed or leave the house—’
‘Yes, yes, yes, of course. But you’re not telling me that this was caused by the pilot light on the TV, are you?’
‘It would be premature to declare the precise cause of the fire.’
‘Really. Why’s that?’
‘Because a police investigation is underway.’
Toland was getting exasperated. ‘OK, well, let’s just confirm the basic facts and move on. Five houses were petrol-bombed last night and all belong to the solicitor Terry Brankin, isn’t that right?’
‘I am sure the police would be better able to confirm details like that when their initial investigations are complete. Our role was to bring the fires under control and report our assessments of the likely causes to the police. We have done that.’
‘Good. Now we are getting somewhere. And did you tell the police that all these houses had been firebombed.’
‘We alerted them to the fact that traces of accelerant had been found in all the houses.’
‘Thank you, Fire Officer Tomasin McCourtney. Now, we have a call coming in from a young woman who lived in one of the burnt-out houses. Tell us your name, love.’
‘Don’t love me, Nevan. I’m not one of your big fans. Gilly McDonald.’
‘And what was your experience, Gilly?’
‘I was living in the house in Dunluce Avenue that was petrol-bombed last night.’
‘And you are sure that it was a petrol bomb.’
‘Of course it was a bloody petrol bomb. I saw it come through the front windy at me.’
‘Well