Dáil floor show has deputies rolling in aisles
At least the guys across the way had some consideration for a man suffering from nicotine withdrawal. They noticed the pallor on Martin Cullen’s face.
“He can get out for a cigarette,” suggested Michael Ring. “Let him out for a smoke.”
But Cullen bravely ventured on. De boss wanted to get to the de bottom of it and get to de bottom of it he would.
But first of all there were a few scores to settle.
The first in with the heavy duty stuff was the traffic cop. “Where did the deputy get the memo?” Seamus Brennan repeatedly asked, hoping to break the Teamster boss down.
“If the minister wants to know where I got the memo, I might ask him questions about what he got from Michael O’Leary,” Pat Rabbitte replied.
It was getting nasty. The Border deputy leapt in with a retaliatory dig.
“The deputy might tell us what he got from Frank Dunlop,” rasped Dermot Ahern.
The precinct captain, when he rose to speak, was sure he had the goods. “It was a Government memorandum. I believe it was the first memorandum.” A Hercule Poirot denouement was on the way.
“There were two errors in one document that was left in a particular document that was picked up by a journalist and returned last Christmas.
“Another one was attached to another circulated document. That is the first one that has vanished from the department.”
Any clearer? Neither were we. But he was merely tantalising them.
“A garda investigation commenced this morning to establish how Deputy Rabbitte received the document to see if it was taken, given or stolen. It will be investigated in due course.”
Was this a tactic to put the frighteners on them? Later he said that it wasn’t a garda investigation but an investigation in the first instance by the secretary general of his department, who can hand it on to the gardaí if he feels the need.
“I never mentioned any reference to having a government memo,” protested the Teamster boss.
“Unfortunately for Deputy Rabbitte, the text he used was the only text that was in the Government memorandum and not in any other literature,” said the precinct captain.
A man knows when he is bet “The Taoiseach missed his profession as his calling is obviously as a detective,” he said.
“The deputy should not be so smart in quoting it exactly,” the Captain said, having single-handedly solved another intriguing mystery.
It was time to change tactics, to bring some light relief to the shebang. Trevor Sargent wanted to know about all the division in the ranks, why he was allowing so many of his lieutenants to let off so many loose cannons. The army support under General Smith from Tipperary was threatening rebellion, to make a last stand at Nenagh.
“The minister totally accepts the Hanly Report,” said the precinct captain.
His well-timed joke had the desired effect. The whole place fell down in uncontrollable laughter. It was an impossible task. Batt O’Keeffe’s face looked as impassive as the Magillicuddy Reeks, but his shoulders heaved up and own like a piston. General Smith turned his face into what could only be described as a sheepish grin.
Keeping to the military theme, Sean Ryan chirped, “That is what would be called a Scud”, before falling once again into helpless laughter.
