Monday on the street

Monday morning, I took more photos of the jobsite, hoping for a lead. I found some interesting details, but I couldn’t get my head around them. I was still in a fog from the effects of an all-night stakeout for one of my other cases. So I went back to bed to sleep it off.

As the sun set in the afternoon, I walked toward the seedier side of town, to follow a lead on the same case that kept me away from home last night. On the way, I stopped to talk to Old Patrick, one of the beggars that makes a meagre living from the softer emotions of the Irish who got lucky from the Celtic Tiger.

He dropped his usual mumble and leaned in to speak: “They say you’re looking into Fitzwilliam Square, like.”

I knew the routine quite well. I found a crisp ten euro note in my wallet and I wrapped it around a cigarette. Old Patrick prefers that his presents be gift-wrapped. And everything costs more in Dublin these days.

He laughed. “Well, I don’t know anyting yet, meself. But thanks a million for the smoke. I’ll keep one eye on the Fitz while yer doin’ business. Com’ere — do ya wanta know what I tink is going on?”

I knew that Old Patrick’s favorite game was spinning stories that started from a shred of truth and led to a few pints apiece at the nearest pub. That sounded like a good way to spend the rest of my day. But I had to make some progress on my bread-and-butter work, if I was going to have time for my unpaid moonlighting gig on Fitzwilliam Square.

1 Comment to “Monday on the street”

  1. Jaime B said...
    22 January 2008

    Oh boy – Raymond Chandler, eat your heart out!