Imagine There's No Heaven - 11. Chapter 11

The paramedics wrested Bernard from Colton’s arms and placed him gently on a gurney. To Richard, he looked like the perfect angel; eyes closed, his skin honey smooth, hands folded neatly across his chest. Richard stumbled forward, begging them not to cover his face. The paramedics stepped back and Richard grabbed Bernard’s lifeless hand.

One word. Dad. That’s all he needed to hear. One breath. Just one. One more squeeze of the hand. Maybe they could have played soccer the following day. Maybe they could have hiked across France the following year. He realized, for the first time that day, that he never said goodbye. He couldn’t talk. His throat had broken. Like the suspension of a car in a terrible accident. Pistons smashed through the gearbox. He tried to turn the ignition. But all that came out was a horrible, chunking, howling, moaning stream of words.

Colton stared at the body on the gurney. His face, smudged with dust and tears, emotionless. He watched as Richard stroked Bernard’s hair, begging him to open his eyes, willing him to say something. He sat there, on the ground, and didn’t move even when the police arrived.

Chief Inspector Grant Ferguson took one look at the carnage and made the sign of the cross.

He approached Sue and hugged her, as if he knew she had been through a rough ordeal. She leaned into his shoulder and sobbed quietly. Police investigators took shots of the house, Bernard’s body and everything else they could get their hands on to investigate. He asked no questions. He could see how distraught the survivors were. Asking them questions right away seemed senseless and disrespectful. Besides, he’d have ample opportunity to interview them at the police station.

Colton’s mind raged with the guilt of bringing Richard and Bernard into this fray. He had no idea how Richard felt. He had no idea what it was like to lose a son or daughter. The paramedics sedated Richard and he stared blankly at the small, sheet covered body of his son as they slipped the gurney into the ambulance.

Colton approached him from behind and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder but he immediately shrugged it away.

‘Richard,’ he whispered.

‘Don’t. Don’t you touch me!’ his voice cracked. ‘You’ve done enough!’

Sue heard his outburst and drew Colton away.

He buried his head into her shoulder. ‘Oh, Christ Mom! What have I done? Oh, God. What have I done?’

***

‘You’re in a lot of trouble, young man.’

Colton stared at his hands, unblinking.

‘You’ve been busy these last two days, haven’t you?’ Ferguson said. ‘First you caused a scene at the hospital, and now this. Losing one life is dear. But the drama has become more than dear. Your mother was raped. Five other men lost their lives. It’s become an expensive pastime. You want to tell me what happened?’

Ferguson took it easy with him. This was Sue’s son, and by all intents and purposes, she had never remarried, so Colton was his son too. They had the same dark hair and eyes, the same slim cheeks and birthmark on the upper palm of their left hands.

Colton spoke softly. ‘It began three days ago. On our anniversary. Jack and I had been together three years. Happy years. Together years…’

‘When you say together, you mean as business partners?’

‘No. As lovers.’

‘Well, I never thought…’

‘I know. People think we are as straight as a ruler. Who would have thought that two rugged looking men could be gay? Well, that’s just how the cookie crumbles. I have never regretted it.’

‘So you and Jack were together three years. Where did you meet?’

‘In a gay bar in London. About four years ago.’

‘Okay. So what happened two days ago?’

‘Well, we got up and ma was downstairs. She had made us breakfast and was cooking up a storm. I asked him to stay home seeing it was our anniversary, but he had volunteered to take Jerry’s place. Apparently this Jerry doesn’t like kids all that much. Jack left early. I opened the bakery at about 8. I remember Mrs. O’ Malley came in. That’s when we heard it. A wrenching explosion that cut through the air.

‘I recall that we both peeped out of the doorway and saw the smoke. We made a dash to help the injured. But everyone was dead, except Jack. He was the driver. I went with him to the hospital. There they operated and the doctors told me he would need to wear a mask for a long time because his…his face...his face had been badly disfigured but he would live. I stayed with him that night, and when he woke up he asked me to read his notebook. His notes would explain everything.

‘And so I read. I read that he had joined an IRA cell some years back and that he’d been a part of one or two successful operations on both British citizens and the Irish. I was so sickened that I closed the diary and threw it back at him. I didn’t want to see him ever again. I ran. I wanted to tell the police and so I got as far as Angus Drive, the Commissioner of Police. I asked to see him but they said he only took appointments.

‘I got cold feet. I decided not to tell anyone about his involvement with the IRA. I went back to the hospital only to find that someone had kidnapped him. I needed to find the diary. I wanted to know more. I needed to find him. That’s when I assaulted the security guards in the hospital. They wouldn’t let me into Jack’s ward. They weren’t saying whom. I overcame the guards and when I entered the ward there was only death in there. I managed to find the diary. It was on the floor beside the bed. I got it and fled.’

‘Where did you go?’

‘Home to ma.’

‘She denied you were there.’

‘I guess she was protecting me. You can’t blame her for any of this. I didn’t stay long. Maybe about ten minutes before I sped off on Jack’s motorbike. Headed for Dublin. And then the bike stalled. That’s how I met Richard and Bernard. I had no idea then that I was being followed. Before I knew it we had been kidnapped and taken to an unknown destination…the house. The rest you know.’

‘Who kidnapped you?’

‘A guy by the name of Peter Hunt. Jack was there and a couple of other guys. Can’t remember their names. Seems they were working for Hunt. And all he wanted was the diary.’

‘Why do you think they wanted this diary?’

‘I have no idea. Maybe there was too much in it.’

‘Do you think he worked for the British government and the IRA?’

‘Maybe. I didn’t get to read that part.’

‘Your mother killed one of the men who tried to abduct her.’

‘I had no idea. I only learned the day before yesterday that she owned a weapon.’

‘Did you know she was once a detective working for the Dublin Police department?’

‘She never told me about that.’

‘Let’s get back to Peter Hunt. Is he one of those who died in the explosion?’

Colton shook his head. ‘No. He was nowhere to be seen when we escaped.’

‘Will you be able to ID him?’

‘It’s a face I will never forget as long as I live.’

The inspector sighed. ‘Well, thank you for your co-operation. It sounds as if we have a fugitive on our hands. We’ll get the departments to follow up. In the meantime, I think your life is in grave danger young man. One thing is for sure, you can’t go back to the bakery. You can never return to your old life.’

‘Sir, you must believe me when I tell you I didn’t want any of this to happen. I feel guilty about causing Bernard’s death.’

The inspector glared at him. ‘You didn’t place that bomb or detonate it. Why do you feel responsible?’

‘Because I led them into this. If I had known, I would never have involved them.’

‘Well, that’s fate. Sometimes it deals a wild card. You need to move on from all of this.’

‘Problem is, I don’t know how.’

‘That’s where we come in.’

‘Where is the diary now?’

‘Hunt has it.’

***

Richard waited in the foyer. He didn’t look up when Colton came out of the inspector’s office. Colton slowly approached him.

‘Richard,’ he said softly, kneeling in front of him.

Richard turned his head away.

‘Richard, please, I…I don’t know what you’re going through. But know this, I wish it was me. I wish I could swop places with your son. I am so sorry.’ His voice cracked.

‘Richard! Come through please.’ The inspector exclaimed.

Richard leaped up, leaving Colton kneeling on the floor. Sobbing uncontrollably.

***

The funeral was a small affair. A slight breeze ruffled through the leafy cemetery. After the small crowd had departed, only Richard remained. He fell to his knees and threw a fist load of soil into the grave. Then another. And another. He couldn’t bring himself to leave. He needed just one more moment.

‘You mean everything to me, Bernard. I never intended this to happen. All I ever wanted was to grow with you. I hope you forgive me for what happened. But, what I can tell you is this, I will find Peter Hunt, and he will pay for what he has done. I’m not prepared to join you until I have revenged your death. It might be next week. It might be in a year. Maybe five, even ten. But know this, I will do it. I hope you’re being looked after, my angel. I hope you’re in a better place. I know that when I join you, it will be a happy reunion. This I promise. All this, I promise…’

‘Sir, it’s time.’ A voice interrupted his monologue.

Richard looked at the man, tears stinging his eyes. He nodded and stood. When he turned around, he found himself surrounded by four men, all members of the special forces. And amongst them, Colton Greaney. They led him away from the grave, passed Colton, and into a black car parked in the road.

‘Where are you taking me?’ Richard asked.

‘The commissioner is waiting for you in the car, sir. He will explain everything.’

A man opened the rear door and Richard climbed in. To his surprise Sue Greaney was in the car, and as he was about to shut the door, Colton climbed in.

Richard looked confused. He had not expected to be taking a ride with Sue or Colton. Inspector Ferguson sat up front and signalled for the driver to continue.

‘Your lives will never be the same. We’re taking you to a safe house, far away from all of this until we have completed our investigation.’

‘All three of us?’ Richard asked.

‘Yes. It shouldn’t be for long, depending, of course, on the severity of the investigation. In the meantime, I would advise all of you to forget any differences you may have. This is not the time to be negative. It’s not the time to hate. We belive it won’t be long before Peter Hunt is found, and all members of his cell have been dealt a blow. I suggest you all become friends. If you can’t, I suggest you tolerate each other until this has sorted itself out.’

Richard glared at Colton. He was not prepared for this. His eyes, his grimace, the hate that emanated from those eyes was too much for Colton to bare.

Colton looked away as they passed through the gates of the cemetery.

His new life had begun.