His brother has gone missing, and no one, least of all the police, seems to care. After twenty-five years in the Chicago police force, and a bruising divorce, he just wants to build a new life in a pretty spot with a good pub where nothing much happens.īut then a local kid comes looking for his help. ‘Did you even look at them cuts? It wasn’t teeth that done that.’ĪBOUT: THE SEARCHER – Cal Hooper thought a fixer-upper in a remote Irish village would be the perfect escape. He’s little and round, with a little round head perched on top, and he tends to wind up on the wrong end of jokes generally he seems okay with this, but this time he’s turning red in the face with vehemence and outrage. ‘There’s no dog could do that,’ the guy at the end of the bar is saying stubbornly. This argument has a different ring to it, louder and messier, like it’s one they haven’t practiced. Everyone already knows everyone’s stance on the issues – except Mart’s, since he tends to switch sides regularly to keep things interesting – and is eager for Cal’s input to mix the conversation up a little. They involve farming methods, the relative uselessness of local and national politicians, whether the wall on the western side of the Strokestown road should be replaced by fencing, and whether Tommy Moynihan’s fancy conservatory is a nice touch of modern glamour or an example of jumped-up notions. Mostly the arguments in here are the well-worn kind that can be made to stretch for years or decades, resurfacing periodically when there’s nothing fresh to discuss. It catches his ear because it sounds unusual. EXCERPT: He’s halfway through his second pint before he tunes into the argument going on down the bar.
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