Page 18 of The Last Bench

It was time to make Hinges believe a deal could be brokered.

‘Well?’ Hinges asked, his bushy brown eyebrows raised in question.

‘You murdered our daughter,’ John said evenly.

‘So you said. But, as I told you already, I didn’t kill her. The drugs did. That’s not on me. It’s on her for taking them,’ Hinges replied.

‘You don’t feel any remorse, do you?’ John said.

Hinges’s eyes narrowed as he replied, ‘Look, I’m sorry your kid died. That must suck. But if you blame me then you might as well blame the cartel I buy the drugs from. I’m a small part of a much bigger wheel.’

At last, John thought – something he could use.

‘Who do you buy from, then? Europe? Or further afield? The Mexicans?’

‘A cartel in Dublin, who bring them in from Spain. You gonna kidnap all them too?’

‘No. I don’t suppose I can,’ John said. ‘I’ll let you go, but there are conditions.’

‘Go on,’ Hinges replied warily.

‘First, you need to stop selling drugs. Second, you have to leave Wexford.’

Hinges scoffed at the mere suggestion.

‘Third, you need to agree that you will not retaliate in any form for tonight,’ John said.

‘Or what? You’re gonna kill me?’ Hinges said. ‘You ain’t no killer, and neither is your mad missus.’

‘You’re right – we’re no killers – but what you don’t realise is that we’ve been recording all of this.’

Anne walked over to the dresser at the back of the kitchen and moved the cookbook to reveal the hidden camcorder. Then she said sweetly, ‘Smile. You’re on Candid Camera.’

The smirk left Hinges’s face.

‘You’ve said on camera not only that you deal drugs, but where the supply chain originates from. I suspect the Gardaí would find this interesting. But, more than that, I reckon your pals in the cartel wouldn’t be happy at how chatty you are. So maybe we don’t bother giving it to the Gardaí, but instead release it to the media. Let them do what they want with it.’

John felt a moment of triumph when he saw how quiet Hinges had become.

‘As I said, agree to my terms and I’ll release you. But not before I put this tape somewhere safe, with the instruction that if anything happens to me or my wife it will be sent to a friend, who happens to be a journalist.’

This was a bluff, but the flash of fear on Hinges’s face showed he’d fallen for it. Anne beamed at John in approval.

‘I need to think about this,’ Hinges said.

‘Take your time,’ John replied.

‘I’d need a few weeks to sort my shit out,’ Hinges said.

‘You can have one week,’ John replied.

‘Give me a drink of water, will ya?’ Hinges asked.

‘Sure, we can do that,’ Anne replied, refilling the paper cup. She moved over to Hinges and leaned down to place the cup to his lips.

As Hinges thought about their offer, John began to formulate a plan. He’d take the tape to the office safe, then return to drive Hinges to his house. Hopefully, the threat of exposure and the messiness of the tape being released to the media would be a deterrent for him.

‘I’ve been thinking about relocating to Spain as it happens,’ Hinges said. ‘So all right. Let me go, and you’ll never see me again.’