TWENTY-SEVEN
Jack phoned Bernie, they discussed how to bring the government down now the tripartite agreement between the main political parties, following the deal to regularise the country’s debt over seventy years, had expired. Jack deliberately spoke haltingly, appearing to want to close the call, and Bernie, the news dog, sensed elicit information may be available.
‘Come on Jack, spill the proverbial, anonymously, of course, and it’s newshound.’
And so Jack told him of suspicions about a Real IRA cell, working out of Portsmouth. He agreed Bernie could look into it, but to let him know if they found anything that might be useful to the police, save them doing it, what with the cut-backs and everything. So they wound up their stilted, and to the point, conversation, that had to be on
