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Authors: Gerard Siggins

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Chapter 27

. . . . . . . . .

M
R McCaffrey found some empty beds in one dorm for Rory and Dylan, but Eoin and Alan had to make do with the spare room in the headmaster’s own house on the grounds. His wife cooked them an enormous supper, but Eoin’s appetite wasn’t equal to the task of finishing it.

Mr McCaffrey arrived just as the boys were halfway up the stairs to bed.

‘We’ll talk tomorrow,’ he said. ‘The gardaí aren’t too concerned with what they found at first glance. It all seems like ancient history. But Mr Finn is certainly excited by it all.’

Eoin slept poorly, his mind turning over what had happened and how he had tried to explain it. There were still many answers he needed hidden in that room.

Next morning he found it hard to concentrate on his studies. Mr Dunne had to call his name twice to get his attention.

‘Mr Madden, are you with us?’ he asked, sarcastically. ‘Or dreaming of scoring a match-winning try in the
semi-final again?’

Eoin returned a thin smile and went back to his book. He had actually forgotten about the game, which was now just twenty-four hours away. He needed a good run after training tonight.

The last run-out of the Js team was shorter than usual. Mr Carey took each of the units through their moves and even subbed Eoin and a couple of others in for some play towards the end. Maybe he intended to give him a few more minutes in the semi-final. The team were relaxed, with plenty of laughing and joking, even when Devin said a few words. Mr Carey was the victim of some mickey-taking too as Zach Cooper hid his tactics board in the showers.

As the team rambled back to the school afterwards, Eoin slipped away and set off at a trot towards the woods. He pushed his way through the low branches and sat down on the Rock to catch his breath.

‘You look exhausted,’ said Kevin, coming out from behind the Rock.

‘Well, I hardly slept last night and today I’ve had a full day at school AND rugby training. I’m flaked out,’ Eoin snorted.

‘How did the key work out?’ Kevin asked.

‘Well, it opened the door, but I was hardly in there for
two minutes when we had to get out. There was a load of rifles hidden in there. Imagine, we were sleeping over an arms dump all year!’

‘Rifles, you say?’ asked Kevin. ‘Were they in wooden crates?’

‘Yeah …’ replied Eoin, ‘Although there was one loose rifle, standing up against the window.’

‘Anything else …’

‘No. Just some boxes of papers, I think. It was very dark though and it was all a jumble,’ said Eoin.

‘Let me know what they find, won’t you?’ insisted Kevin.

Eoin nodded and went to ask the ghost a question, but before he opened his mouth Kevin had disappeared.

Eoin jogged twice around the rugby pitch before he headed over to his temporary home. He didn’t want to meet Mr McCaffrey and was happy when his wife opened the door and told him that the headmaster was out at a meeting.

‘He’s out with that lovely Mr Duffy. He is so generous to the school, you know. Do you know his charming son, Richard?’ she asked.

Eoin winced, and nodded, but didn’t want to get into a conversation about his least-favourite schoolmate.

Alan was sitting at the kitchen table in front of the
last slice of an apple tart. ‘Ah, Eoin, I kept you a piece,’ he grinned.

Alan patted his stomach and smiled again. ‘Fantastic meal again tonight, Mrs Mac. Do you think they might need us to stay here till the end of the school year?’

Mrs McCaffrey smiled. ‘I’d be delighted to have you. It’s great to have a bit of company around again since our boys went off to college. And every slice of apple tart you eat is one less for me. I’ll make another one now so you can have it for breakfast.’

‘No thanks, Mrs McCaffrey,’ said Eoin. ‘I’ll just have something light, maybe a sandwich. I’ve a big game tomorrow and might need to move a bit quicker than Alan.’

Chapter 28

. . . . . . . . .

T
HE semi-final was a grim battle, decided by an excellent individual try by Zach Cooper, but despite the result the Castlerock boys went back to school with glum faces; as they climbed onto the coach to take them back to school, an ambulance pulled out and took off up the road with its siren blaring. On board was Ronan, who had taken a heavy hit late in the game and looked like he had badly damaged his ankle.

Eoin came on to replace him at out-half and did nothing wrong in the eight minutes before time ran out.

‘Well played, Eoin,’ said Devin as he passed him on the bus. ‘That was a tricky situation but you kept your head. See you at training tomorrow – we’ve a lot of work to do now before the final.’

Eoin smiled, and turned his head to the window as the captain moved away. He was still tired – he just wasn’t used to a mattress as soft as that on the McCaffreys’ spare bed – and dozed off.

In his dream he was running up O’Connell Street in Dublin city centre, and was weaving through piles of
rubble. As he passed the General Post Office he heard a bullet whistle past his ear, and called out ‘Don’t shoot, I’m just going to school’.

He woke up suddenly, to the sound of laughter. Paudie and Gav were leaning over the backs of the seats in front of him.

‘What’s that about “don’t shoot”, Madden?’ Gav laughed. Are you dreaming about a gangster film or something?’

Eoin went bright red and turned away from the pair. He must have been asleep for quite a while as the bus had just pulled into the grounds of Castlerock. As they neared the door there was a disturbance up the front as several boys stood up.

‘What are they doing there?’ asked Devin.

Eoin stood too, and was a bit taken aback to see two garda cars, an ambulance and a large white truck parked outside the dormitory building.

The bus stopped and the players filed off and collected their kitbags from the storage area underneath. Mr McCaffrey, who had been talking to a senior garda, walked over to congratulate Mr Carey.

‘Well done, boys, I understand it was a notable win,’ the headmaster addressed the team. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t able to attend the game but I will be sure to be at the
final. I’m afraid I was tied up with an important matter here at the school.’

Mr McCaffrey stopped and looked from face to face through the players. ‘Ah, there you are, Mr Madden. Would you mind coming with me?’

Eoin’s face turned red for the second time in five minutes, and he had no choice but to follow the headmaster across the driveway to where a man in a
dark-blue
uniform stood.

‘This is Eoin Madden, guard,’ said Mr McCaffrey. ‘He is the boy who discovered the mysterious chamber.’

‘Ah, the adventurer!’ said the garda. ‘My name is Inspector Corbett. I wonder could you tell me the whole story up in the room.’

Eoin followed the garda upstairs, and was surprised to see the dormitory had been barred off with plastic tape on which were printed the words ‘CRIME SCENE’.

‘Am I in trouble, sir?’ Eoin asked.

‘No, not at all. I understand you have only been in the room for a minute or two?’

‘Yes,’ replied Eoin quickly. ‘Mr Finn was with me all the time.’

A man dressed in an all-over white suit with a hood and mask came up the steps into the dorm, followed by another. They carried two long wooden poles between
them which looked just like a stretcher, covered with a rough green blanket.

A third man climbed into the room as they left, and acknowledged the senior garda.

‘Ah, Inspector,’ he said. ‘We’ve quite an interesting one here. A complete skeleton, still wearing some type of uniform. It has rotted away and there don’t seem to be any sort of identifying papers.’

‘A body!’ gulped Eoin, ‘underneath our bedroom?’

Chapter 29

. . . . . . . . .


D
ON’T worry, son, he’s long past worrying about,’ smiled the inspector.

Mr Finn arrived at the door.

‘Good afternoon, guard,’ he said. ‘I’m a retired teacher at the school and a friend of Mr Madden’s family. If you want to talk to him I’d like to be present.’

The inspector nodded. ‘Of course, that would be appropriate. But Mr Madden has nothing to fear. This poor man has been dead almost a hundred years.’

‘I was with Eoin when the room was opened for the first time, and we left very promptly,’ Mr Finn pointed out.

‘Ah yes,’ replied the garda. ‘Well perhaps you could tell me did any of you touch a rifle that was standing near the window?’

‘No,’ said Mr Finn. ‘As soon as we saw it we left immediately, realising that the guards would have to be called.’

‘Good,’ said Inspector Corbett. ‘It’s just that, on first examination, there appears to be a whiff of cordite from the barrel.’

Eoin looked puzzled.

‘I’m sorry, I should explain,’ said the Garda. ‘What I meant to say was that, from the smell off the rifle, it appears to have been fired very recently indeed.’

Eoin gulped.

The garda noticed the change in Eoin’s expression.

‘Do you know anything about that, young sir?’

‘Well, no, I don’t know anything about who fired the rifle,’ Eoin started. ‘But a few weeks ago I was out for a run when I heard a couple of shots. I thought they were coming from the school but I wasn’t sure.’

‘And did you report this to anyone?’

‘No,’ said Eoin, sheepishly. ‘I wasn’t certain and I thought it was probably a car back-firing or something.’

‘And where were you precisely when this happened?’

‘I was out near the woods, over there,’ he pointed out the window.

The Garda asked Eoin and Mr Finn more questions about the opening of the room, and seemed to be happy with the answers.

‘Can I ask you a question?’ asked Mr Finn.

‘Fire away,’ grinned Inspector Corbett. ‘I’m not sure I can answer it but …’

‘What exactly is in those boxes?’

‘Well, it’s mostly papers. We’ll have to check, but
there doesn’t seem to be anything in them except some old school records,’ he explained. ‘I suspect they were being stored here for safe-keeping. There is also a case full of brand-new rifles – well, they would have been brand new a century ago anyway – and plenty of ammunition. There’s also another big wooden chest which I didn’t want to break open but our locksmith is working on down there now.’

‘And who is the dead man?’ asked Eoin.

‘We haven’t a clue. You heard the doctor – he has no identification papers on him, and it will take ages to check our files for missing persons when we don’t even know the decade in which he died.’

Eoin frowned. ‘I’ve been studying that period in school,’ he said. ‘I think if you look around 1920 you could be lucky.’

The inspector stared at Eoin. ‘That’s very interesting,’ he said. ‘You’re obviously a very clever young man. We’ll give it a go.’

‘Inspector!’ came a call from below. ‘I’ve lifted some fingerprints off the rifle. And guess what, they’re fresh!’

Inspector Corbett grimaced. ‘Are you gentlemen sure you didn’t touch that gun?’

Mr Finn stared back. ‘I am, and I am just as sure that Eoin didn’t touch it either. There must be some other
explanation.’

‘Well, would you be willing to be fingerprinted – just to remove you from our enquiries?’ asked the garda.

‘Of course,’ said Mr Finn, and watched as one of the men in the white overalls produced a fingerprint kit. He and Eoin gave their samples and, just as they were about to leave, another call came from the basement.

‘Inspector, we’ve got the trunk open,’ said the garda who poked his head out through the trapdoor. ‘It’s an interesting haul.’

‘Would you like to see this, Mr Finn?’ invited the inspector, who then led the way down the staircase.

The technicians had lifted the chest out of the side room and opened it just at the bottom of the stairs, so Eoin could see down inside it. Even in the gloom he could see that it was packed full of silver cups and trophies.

Chapter 30

. . . . . . . . .

T
HE word spread like wildfire about the opening of the hidden chamber and the treasures that had been found there. Eoin’s central role in the drama made him the focus of everyone’s attention and he could barely walk two metres anywhere in the school without someone pointing to him or asking him a question. Even the teachers wanted to know about the discovery.

Eoin buried himself in his history project, which was just about complete, and in his rugby, which was a great way to escape.

There was less than a week to the Junior Cup final in the Aviva Stadium. Mr Carey was keen to forge a firmer understanding between Eoin and the scrum half Paddy Buckley, so there were even a couple of pre-school sessions with just the two of them and the coach.

‘The Belvo wing-forwards are very fast on their feet,’ explained the coach to Paddy. ‘So you need to be even faster getting the ball out to Eoin.’

The two boys worked on signals, and the best pace and direction for Eoin to receive the ball.

As the three rambled back towards school, the school nurse, Miss O’Dea, was parking her car. She waved and called out to Mr Carey. ‘I just want to warn you, Mr Carey, that I have had a serious outbreak of the vomiting bug among the third-year boys. There are three down at the moment, but I would like you to keep an eye out for symptoms among your players. Many of them will have some protection from illness but any that haven’t could be in trouble.’

Mr Carey went white. ‘Thank you, Miss O’Dea. That’s very worrying indeed. Boys, back to school now, I’ll see you at training in the afternoon.’

There was a full attendance at the training session, where Mr Carey asked all the boys how they were feeling. He also pressed on them that it was important to tell Miss O’Dea if they felt at all poorly.

Eoin returned to the dorm to meet Dylan and collect his bags for a brief visit to Ormondstown. The boys were old hands at travelling on the bus now and relaxed as it sped through the midland towns on the way to their home.

‘Did you hear about the bug thing?’ Eoin asked his pal. ‘Carey’s terrified that it will hit the team. I think he was glad to hear I was getting out of town for the weekend!’

‘Do you think ye might need a winger?’ asked Dylan. ‘Especially one with try-scoring experience at the Aviva. You know what they say about horses for courses?’

Eoin laughed. ‘It’s going to be hard enough without having you out there on the wing. Anything planned for the weekend?’

‘Caoimhe wants to go to the movies tomorrow night. Would you be up for that?’

‘Ah, sure why not. I haven’t seen a movie in ages,’ Eoin replied.

The boys parted at the bus-stop, where Eoin’s dad was waiting in the car. Dylan lived just a short walk away. ‘See you tomorrow Eoin. Call for me about six?’

On the way home Eoin filled in his dad on as much of the drama about the secret room as he could without spilling the beans on the ghosts.

‘My, oh my, that sounds very exciting. And the gun had been fired? I hope you weren’t in any danger?’

‘No, Dad,’ laughed Eoin. ‘I think it’s all a bit of ancient history.’

Eoin’s mother was even more concerned, but he soothed her worries and explained that the gardaí had taken everything away for examination.

He weekend in Ormondstown began quietly. Eating, sleeping and visiting his grandfather took up the bulk
of his time, but he also helped his dad to paint the shed and washed the car too. After dinner he jumped up from the table to collect the dishes and rolled up his sleeves to start the washing-up.

‘What’s all this eagerness to do the chores?’ quizzed his mother.

‘No reason,’ smiled Eoin. ‘Always happy to help.’

‘Are you looking for a few euro for your cinema date tonight?’ laughed his dad.

Eoin blushed. ‘That’s very kind of you to offer Dad,’ he grinned. ‘A tenner? Perfect.’

His dad laughed. ‘A tenner’s about right for all the work you did. Leave those dishes and get yourself ready. I’ll drop you down to Dylan’s.’

BOOK: Rugby Rebel
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