Fanahan wasn't having
any luck trying to persuade the management at the Pavs to let him
view the CCTV security recordings
of the last hour or so. He had checked and the open space did have
cameras. But without an idea that some kind of crime had been
committed on the centre, and some idea of where, when, what and how,
no cooperation from management was going to occur.
He went downstairs and decided that cameras in the shops
would probably not be of any use: either because the couple had not
been in the shops, or that viewing would again be refused. He could
not go around to the nearby Cop Shop, again no excuse would suffice:
I thought I saw a dead man in the place, would mean letting the
brass know he was not buying the Georgie is dead lark.
At this stage in the past, with such a puzzle to solve
he would have a few jars while the wheels of connivance stirred in
his brain, and the answer came to him . But he was off the jar:
wasn't he? Nevertheless he had a brainwave: would Tyrell's pal, Jimmy
be able to get at the recordings? After all it did seem he was a
hacker of sorts.
Bob Tyrell answered his phone very quickly. It was as if
he was waiting for an urgent call. “Hello Shay. What can I do for
you?”
“Bob, sorry for disturbing you, but I need some
advice.” Then remembering the quickness of the pick-up, he added.
“Can you talk with me now? Is it a bad time?”
“It is and it isn't. Shay. I was waiting for a call
from my granddaughter, she is expecting to be accepted for a college
course this morning, and I'm just waiting for word.”
“Sorry Bob, I'll ring back so. What time would suit?”
“No. It's fine. If she phones the call waiting will
alert me, and then I will answer her. Okay?”
“Bob I thought I saw a lunatic of our acquaintance
this morning in the Pavs in Blanch. That lunatic they said was out of
the way.”
“No way Shay. Are you sure.” Bob had suddenly
forgotten about the pending call about the college place.
“That's it Bob. I'm not, but if I could see the CCTV
images of the time, I could rest my mind, or go back on the drink, if
he is around. But I have no official way of getting a look at the
tape, or disk, or what ever it's called now. Could a man you know
make an enquiry for me. The red fella?”
“Crap Shay, it's the other call. I'll get back to you.
Hope it's good news.”
