Page 30 of Dublin Debacle

Two blocks in, she made a right onto another street that was blocked for foot traffic only.

She slowed in front of a pub with a sign hanging over it with bright red letters proclaiming its name as Pick Your Poison Pub. After a quick glance around, Ciara pushed through the door and disappeared inside.

Jack and Emily followed.

Ciara lifted her chin toward the bartender.

He tipped his head toward the back of the tavern.

Jack didn’t like that he knew nothing about Ciara, yet here he was following her blindly into a place he’d never been before.

The room in the back of the pub was empty of customers. Jack thought the girl would stop there, and they could talk. She didn’t. Instead, she touched her hand to a wall. A hidden door swung open, revealing a staircase that led down into darkness. She reached for a flashlight hanging on a hook on the wall, turned it on and started down the steps.

When Jack stopped short of the door, Ciara looked back with a frown. “I promise, no one will hurt you. It’s just safer here than most anywhere in the city. I’m trusting you with the knowledge and location of this door; you can trust me that you will not be harmed.”

Jack turned to Emily.

“We just risked our lives for this woman. And she obviously knows my brother since she was in his apartment. I want answers,” Emily stepped past Jack and followed Ciara down the stairs into a stone-lined tunnel.

Jack guessed they’d walked the length of a city block before they came to a heavy steel door.

Ciara pushed it open into what appeared to be an old storage closet with items dating back to what appeared to be World War II.

By this time, Jack was beginning to wonder if she was leading them into a trap. He touched Emily’s shoulder and motioned for her to get behind him.

With a frown, she let him pass her silently.

Ciara led them through broken furniture, old crates and stacks of cardboard boxes to another hidden door. Jack wouldn’t have known the door was there if Ciara hadn’t opened it by pulling a lever that appeared to be a hook on the wall that could have been placed there to hang a broom or mop on.

She switched off her flashlight, plunging them into darkness, and then pulled the door toward her, revealing a cavernous room at least half the length of a football field. In the room, there were dozens of cots lined up on either side of the walls. Lights hung from the ceiling, casting a soft yellow glow over the people going about their lives hidden beneath the streets and buildings of Dublin.

Children gathered in various groups with an adult teaching lessons using old-fashioned chalkboards. Other women worked sweeping, cleaning, cooking or caring for infants and toddlers. A few old men sat in a corner, talking among themselves.

Ciara turned toward them with a finger pressed to her lips.

Jack and Emily moved closer to her.

“This is the basement of what once was a distillery. It was used as a bomb shelter during World War II and now houses eighty-seven souls trying to escape the violence that has overtaken their lives in and near Dublin,” Ciara whispered. “These nomads have had to hunker down and hide over the past months.”

The door in which they stood occupied a shadowy corner of the basement. They could see out, but Jack doubted anyone would notice them standing there.

“Travellers?” Emily asked softly.

Ciara nodded. “The men still try to work where they can find jobs to help pay for food and clothing, but those jobs are fewer and harder to find. Employers are afraid to hire Travellers for fear of the violence coming to their businesses.”

“These people shouldn’t have to be afraid to live,” Emily said. She turned to Ciara. “Do you live here as well?”

Ciara shook her head. “I attend Trinity College and live in a flat not far from there. I don’t share my family connection with other students, faculty or anyone who might have an issue with my heritage. I just wanted to further my education and pursue other opportunities not normally afforded to our kind. When the violence started, I had to be even more vigilant, hiding my true identity while doing what I could to help my people.”

“When did they go into hiding?” Jack asked.

“The first murder didn’t send us running. The victim hadn’t been active in the family for some time. Only the old-timers knew he was one of us as he’d more or less hidden that part of himself from others in order to blend in and build a business in financial advising and investments. He was so well insulated from his people that he was engaged to marry into the Irish society.”

“What happened to him?” Emily asked.

“His body was found floating in the River Liffey.”

“Cause of death?” Jack asked.

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