Page 172 of The Texas Sterling Collection
“Dr. MacGowan, we were working on our projects, and I detected that the projects may be related.”
“Oh?” Ailbe feigned surprise so the student wouldn’t see his shock.Feck!Maybe Declan was right. “How so?”
“As I was helping the others, I noticed our projects appeared to dovetail. One could lead to another, creating a much larger scheme.”
Ailbe coughed out a nervous chuckle. “That is an interesting concept, Mr. Moynihan. Are you certain your conclusions are accurate?”
“Oh, yes, Dr. MacGowan. I see a distinct and detectable connection. Is there something you have not shared with us?”
Ailbe’s gut wrenched that such a discovery had occurred. A discovery that could ruin everything. Then, an idea suddenly occurred to him. “Mr. Moynihan, you will receive extra credit on your project for discovering this connection. I purposely assigned overlapping projects to see if students could think outside the parameters enough to realize the commonalities. You have done well.”
Kennan visibly relaxed. “Thank you, Dr. MacGowan. That certainly makes sense and clears up a lot of confusion. I will share the information with the group.”
“Can we keep this between us, Mr. Moynihan?” Ailbe held Keenan’s gaze. “I want to see if other lads discover the same connection. If you tell them, they will not have an opportunity to earn the extra credit on their projects.”
“I understand, Dr. MacGowan. I won’t say a word to the others.” Keenan hesitated momentarily as if another question had formed. But he sighed and stood to leave. “Thank you for your time.”
“You are most welcome, Mr. Moynihan.”
Keenan left the office, and Ailbe picked up the phone and dialed Declan’s office. Their routine was to talk at two o’clock in the afternoon, when they both had a break from classes. Still, a sense of urgency drove Ailbe to call straight away.
“Declan Knowlan,” Declan answered.
“We have a problem.” Ailbe’s gruff voice shook. “And we need to eliminate that problem.”
“Give me the information when we meet for drinks as usual. I’ll take care of it,” Declan said in a hushed, business-like voice, then hung up the phone.
Ailbe sighed as he cradled his handset. Everything was going so perfectly, and then this. It’s good he kept Declan around. He needed Declan’s connections, a need that would end once he implemented his plan. But he needn’t share that just yet.
* * *
Ailbe and Declan met at O’Connell’s at 4:30.
“What happened?” Declan sipped his Guinness and glared at Ailbe. “Has the master fekked up? Student involvement got you in trouble?”
“Shut up. This isn’t my fault, Declan.” Ailbe spat the name, masking his anger. He leaned across the table. “A group of students worked on their projects together, and one of them figured out that the projects dovetailed.”
“This could be disastrous.” Angry darts flared from Declan’s glare.
“He must be stopped. If he should—shall we say—mysteriously disappear, it might put fear in the rest of them.” Ailbe feigned an expression of need, eyes pleading with Declan for cooperation.
“I assume you have the information,” Declan took a pull from his pint, ignoring Ailbe’s attempt to be something he wasn’t.
“This should do it.” Ailbe handed him a slip of paper. “The students usually work until around 8:00. He’ll walk back to his flat after.”
Declan downed his Guinness. “I’ll make the call now.” Declan stood. “The issue will disappear tonight. I’ll meet you at the car in fifteen minutes.” Declan left the pub.
* * *
On Tuesday evening, Keenan Moynihan walked along Old Dublin Road to his flat. He was tired after the long day. To help pass the time, he talked on his cell phone with his friend and classmate, Fergus Rafferty.
“Aye, Fergus. Tis a queer coincidence that our projects all align. I talked with Dr. MacGowan this morning about it.” Despite Dr. MacGowan’s explanation, the discovery still troubled Keenan. He and Fergus had discussed the possible connections before he went to see Dr. MacGowan, so he didn’t violate his promise to keep the situation secret.
“So, what did MacGowan say?” Fergus said.
“He said I get extra credit because I discovered the overlap. I wasn’t to mention it to the other lads so they could discover it for themselves. I don’t buy it, Fergus. I think he’s talking a load of Blarney.”
Keenan paused as the motor noise of an approaching vehicle behind him made conversation difficult. “Hang on, Fergus.”
