O'Connell Bridge - Pt. 25

LC met Seamus in the lobby and within seconds they were riding a cab toward Paulies Pizza.

“Best Pizza in Dublin,” Seamus pointed to the street sign. “Canal Street, a bit of a drive from the Ashling but worth the trip. True Italian Pizza.”

“Good beer?”

“All beer in Ireland is good, as you say.” Seamus paid the cabby and the two young men walked into the two level pizzeria.

“This place is jumping.” LC noted the loud raucous crowd.

“Popular place. We’ll sit outside and watch the melee.”

“Good to me.”

A minute later they were seated at an outside table and two Punk IPA beers were ordered.

LC looked over the menu. “I think I may go for the calzone. I’ve never had a real Italian one before.”

Seamus leaned back. “I figured you for New York style. Which is what I will have, the double pepperoni. Don’t worry, we will have food left over and take a box back to the hotel. We’ll sneak a box into the chef’s refrigerator.”

The beers arrived and the orders were placed amid the noise and the festive atmosphere.

“This great,” LC looked around at the surroundings.

“I knew you’d like it.”

“Okay, today’s instruction was, well, unusual.” LC sipped his beer and nearly shouted at Seamus.

“That’s an introduction. Just wait until tea tomorrow; it’s very English, although generally only practiced in better households. The liberal views of the new age have eroded many English traditions.”

“You still have the Monarchy.”

“Figureheads of a past era. But the public delights to no end discussing the Royals. Especially the rumors.”

LC grinned. “Many American’s are entranced by the spectacle of royalty and every little girl grows up dreaming about being a princess or queen. I don’t think most American boys want to be King however.”

Seamus poured beer into his glass. “That’s interesting, I never thought about that.”

“Have you ever been to the States?”

“Oh my yes. Where Simmons goes, I usually accompany him. Usually we are in New York. But, in answer to your probable question, I have not traveled freely in the Colonies. We are usually there a very short time before returning to London.”

“I saw online that O’Neil Milling had offices in New York and London. I guess that is why you travel between the two.”

“Actually, Mrs. O’Neil has offices in most market cities. She also has an apartment in Tokyo, and one in Sydney. Her estate in Berlin is formidable. At least that’s my estimation after visiting one time. The office in the city I have never visited.”

“I assume she serves Paris from London.”

“Clarice travels to the Paris office almost weekly. I think it is a small staff. But, you are right. The major portion of the operation is run out of New York and London.”

“I guess most of that is on the internet?”

Seamus tapped his beer glass. “Correct.”

Their meals came and they ordered a second beer. While they were eating LC elected to test his theories about the notes. “Seamus, what do you know about a series of messages I have been receiving over the last two months. Everything from “O’Connell Bridge” to simply “trust me;” text messages and more.”

Seamus looked up and wiped his mouth. “What?”

“I’ve been getting hundreds of messages to come to Ireland.”

Seamus put down his piece of pizza. “All I know is that an American is coming to Dublin to meet Mrs. O’Neil and her niece; and that the American will need to receive culture training.”

“Oh. And, this is the first I’ve heard about a niece.” LC held the beer bottle and almost drank from it before remembering to pour it into a glass.

“I’ve never met her. There’s a lot of rumor about a young woman Mrs. O’Neil dotes on in Budapest. I guess that’s the niece, because as far as I know Mrs. O’Neil has few real relatives. I don’t think she’s related to the girl in Hungary. Her son you know was killed in an accident, but there was something funny about it Simmons wouldn’t explain it to me, although it was way beyond my time, but it apparently was hushed up because of something going on. I learned a rumor from one of the older employees that maybe the son was doing something, you know, illegal or something. Anyway, the body was taken quickly to the grave without much if any autopsy. The news report was altered. The adopted niece in Hungary is the only one left. Now, don’t quote me on that.”

“I suppose then I’m going to meet them both?”

Seamus picked up a pepperoni from his pizza. “I suppose.”

“What I don’t understand is all the references to O’Connell Bridge. What gives?”

Seamus shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know. We can ride over there in a minute. It’s just a big bridge named after a politician.”

“Yeah, I know.”

They finished dinner and caught a cab to O’Connell Bridge. The night time approach along the river was “beautiful.” LC marveled at the lighted traffic way. “No wonder I’m supposed to be here.”

To be continued...