The guard at the detention centre had seen Eamon’s light flashing on the board for at least half an hour but was not about to answer it until the match he was watching on the television monitor was over. He’d waited all day to watch it and nothing would deter him. They were now into extra time and it was crucial.
Eamon paced up and down the cell, angry that he was being ignored. He was shouting as loud as possible.
“I have to see someone. I have something to say.”
It was frustrating knowing they were ignoring him on purpose. He imagined the pain that Nick must have been going through and cringed as he pictured him lying tied in a corner, knowing that he could do nothing while his daughter was in danger.
The tears were pouring from Eamon’s eyes as he shouted.
He ran over to the door when he eventually heard the shutter being pulled back.
“What the hell do you want?” the guard demanded. Though the match was over and Marseilles had won, he was still angry at being disturbed.
“Please!” cried Eamon. “I need to see a solicitor now.”
“Well you can’t,” the guard announced flatly. “What do you think we do here, room service? Nobody, not even me, can see anybody we want, whenever we want. Besides, he was only here about an hour ago.”
“No, you don’t understand,” Eamon pleaded. “Then let me see the governor. I need to make a confession.”
The guard thought for a moment. He did not want the governor here and, besides, it was too much hassle. He would be finishing his shift in less than an hour and did not want to delay it.
“You can’t see him, he’s not here. Anyway, you’ve had plenty of time to come up with a confession. It can wait until the morning.”
“No ... no, you don’t understand. It must be done now, it’s far too important. Get someone here now.”
This angered the guard.
“Don’t you tell me what to do or give me orders, you shit. Write the fucking thing down. You’ve got pen and paper in there.”
He turned to go.
“And don’t fucking disturb me again or you’ll be sorry,” he added.
The guard returned to his television and again ignored Eamon’s flashing light on the control panel.
Eventually, Eamon gave up pressing the bell and lay back on his bed. He gathered his thoughts and calmed down. Maybe it was a good idea to write out the confession.
He picked up the pen and wrote in English.
He started from the very beginning and left nothing out. From the very first time he approached Bulmer for the loan. At the time when Bulmer was nothing more than a loan shark in Crawley. A “regular uncle”, as the kids might have referred to him. He wrote how the repayments of the loan had been a large burden and drain on his resources and of how easy it was to defer these and top the loan up to meet payments at a later date. He described how he had seen Bulmer become more powerful with expensive cars and clothes and a much seedier type of right-hand man.
Eamon then wrote about Nick, again holding nothing back. The words just poured onto the page from the pen about how he was blackmailed into carrying the cocaine and the fear he had for Sally’s safety. He thought hard about times, dates, names, places, etc. Much of what he wrote was out of context but all the information was there.
He wrote until the light was switched out and he could write no more.