Two Kinds of Blood by Jane Ryan

Author:Jane Ryan [Ryan, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Kindle Bestseller, Irish Crime, Triller, Mystey, Crimson, British Crime, kindle Unlimited
ISBN: 9781781997673
Publisher: Poolbeg Press
Published: 2020-04-23T16:00:00+00:00

Seán waited in the small galley kitchen. The old linoleum had lifted at the edges but was carbolic-clean. He’d set out the foldaway table, dressed it with a tablecloth and Sheila Devereux’s best china, sugar in a bowl not the bag, and fresh cream doughnuts from the corner shop. Gavin wouldn’t want cake, but it was a gesture. He stood in the middle of the kitchen and counted aloud, the sound of his own voice keeping him from overthinking. He and Gavin had communicated once at the start of his sentence, a single letter where they agreed no further primary contact. Let the gardaí believe the association had ended. They communicated through an intermediary. Seán had organised a girl to pose as Gavin’s girlfriend and she delivered messages. Seán hadn’t heard Gavin’s voice in six years.

Through the girl, they worked on their future plans post Gavin’s release. Seán had made new contacts and would buy direct from Fuentes cartel via Amsterdam. Dublin street cocaine was twenty-percent pure at best. Seán was going to deal at forty-percent pure for wholesale and thirty-percent at street level. To keep his levels this pure he’d need an army of enforcers. To find those enforcers Seán had supplied Gavin with drugs when he was in prison. Many of the inmates had people throw packets over the wall while they were in the exercise yard but the screws found most of these. Seán had used a racing pigeon he favoured and she’d dropped small cannisters in to Gavin, never a huge amount of product, but enough. And Seán could supply any pills to order, steroids were the most popular. Gavin would give these out to any man he wanted to recruit.

Seán heard the key turn in the lock and an echoing twist inside his chest.

‘What’s up?’ said Gavin.

‘Yeah,’ said Seán.

‘C’mon.’ Gavin stood in the doorway, beckoning Seán out into the street.

They left Sheila open-mouthed in the doorway.

‘Cakes on the table for you, Granny Dev,’ said Seán.

Gavin strode in the direction of the Port. ‘Can’t be inside or anywhere. Need to look at the sea – come down the Basin with me?’

They walked toward the Grand Canal Basin, built in the 1790s by the Lord Lieutenant of Dublin as an area to dock pleasure boats – that hadn’t worked out so well and the Basin was known as Dublin’s ‘forgotten pond’ for centuries. In recent times property developers had moved in.

‘Building apartments and such down there now,’ said Seán. He noted Gavin’s long strides. Gone was his childhood friend, in his place a rangy man with a permanent darkness to his eyes. Seán had no sense of loss, rather preferring this hardened man, who no longer needed anyone’s protection.

‘Got what you needed.’

‘Yeah?’ said Seán.

‘Army of blokes coming out over the next six months. At least fifteen. So you’d better have that fucking supplier lined up. And don’t tell me I’m letting myself down by swearing or you’ll be eating your teeth.’

Seán smiled. Prison had been Gavin’s university.

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