Page 48 of The Honeymoon Affair

‘No,’ he replies.

‘Get the driver to bring it to the yard,’ I tell him. ‘We’re going to search it.’

I walk outside and explain to the driver what’s happening. He seems resigned now, and asks if he can get coffee while we’re searching the container. I say I’ll see what we can do. We’re not great on guest comforts at the port. He gets back into his cab, and we follow him in our customs cars, making sure he parks the lorry in the designated bay. I bring him to a room where I tell him he’ll have to wait. As I leave, I hear him ask another one of the officers for coffee.

Back in the bay, Ken and Katelyn climb onto the crates and begin checking the container itself, running their hands over the roof, which, to be honest, looks perfectly all right to me. I worry that we’ve got it wrong, that we’re wasting our time and the driver’s.

‘Anything?’ I ask Ken when he jumps down.

‘I want to have another look at the scan.’

I stay beside the container while he goes back into the unit. Fish and Chips have long since returned to the office building, Chips in good form because as far as he’s concerned it’s job done and time for a bit of fun. I check the lorry’s digital paperwork again.

My mobile vibrates. I glance at the message. It’s Charles saying that Ariel (though he still only refers to her as ‘my agent’) has read the book and that they’re currently talking about it. But he thinks she really likes it. Charles and his issues are inhabiting a world a million miles away from my current concerns. I send a short text saying that I’m at work. My phone pings with a reply, but I don’t get to look at it because Ken has returned with a large flashlight. I replace my mobile in the back pocket of my trousers while he concentrates the light on the roof, shining it into the corners. Then he gives a grunt of satisfaction.

‘We need cutting equipment,’ he says. ‘And I’m thinking it’s time to call the Gardaí.’

Usually the drugs are smuggled in the crates themselves. We’ve found cocaine in furniture, packed in sofas and chairs, we’ve found drugs in tyres, in plaster statues and animal feed. (Not obviously in the actual feed itself, or Ireland would have some very chilled-out cattle. In bags of the same size and appearance.)

It’s another hour before Ken finally accesses the space in the roof. As he lowers the hatch he’s made, we can see the carefully bundled packages of powder. I start taking photos, absorbing the scale of what we’ve uncovered. By the time we’re finished, we’ve unloaded multiple slabs of what we reckon is cocaine. I feel very proud of the team and our efforts.

The Garda drug squad, who arrived earlier, are also busy taking photos. A female officer goes inside the building to arrest the driver, who may or may not have known what he was transporting along with the crates of machine parts. It’s not a good day for him, but it’s a great one for us.

‘Who’s the man!’ Ken beams at the senior garda.

‘The dog, I believe.’ The garda grins. ‘Great job, though.’

‘Yay our team!’ I high-five everyone.

This is going to be an item on the news later.

Obviously I don’t post anything about it on social media. But if I did, it would be #LoveMyJob.

We’re all totally buzzing when our shift finally ends, and the whole team heads out to celebrate. The pub across the inlet of the bay is busy with locals, but we find a big table and order drinks all round.

‘Excellent teamwork from everyone concerned,’ I say.

‘Here’s to us!’ Ken lowers his voice to imitate a narrator in a reality programme. ‘Keeping our borders secure, one gram at a time.’

The team laughs. We’re suckers for watching Border Patrol episodes, although they mostly concentrate on individuals coming through airports with drugs concealed in their luggage or on themselves. I much prefer the more industrial nature of the port, which is an entire ecosystem on its own.

My phone buzzes and I think of Charles’s last message. The one I neither read nor replied to. Oh well, he’ll know I was too busy to get back to him.

Hey. I hear there was a drugs bust at the port today

It takes a moment before I realise the text is from Steve rather than Charles. I’m not sure I want to answer it. But eventually I do, because I can’t believe he knows about it already.

How did you hear that?

Breaking news

Seriously?

Information gets out quickly these days. It’s not as if we keep things secret, but if the Gardaí were hoping to locate the actual importer of the drugs, having a news story about today’s find probably isn’t going to help.

Apparently they’ve arrested a couple of people who are ‘known to the Gardaí’

Steve uses the euphemism for career criminals.