Murder In The Academy : A chilling murder mystery set in Belfast (Alice Fox Murder Mysteries Book 1)

by Maggie Feeley

  “Doyle is an interesting one alright.” Burrows repeatedly flexed his fingers as he spoke – a familiar sign that he was fully engaged in his thought processes. “He clearly carries the legacy of his parent’s IRA involvement and their sudden death when he was a child. As we know the paternal grandmother brought Liam and his sister up. Mrs Doyle is now elderly and quite incapacitated and the tables have turned. He takes care of her along with his married sister and her extended family. The old lady is a bit of a character and the family has a complicated relationship with the forces of law and order. That said, Liam Doyle had never been in any trouble with the law. He has a good reputation in the college both as a postgraduate student and as the current student representative. All of those we spoke to acknowledged his good work on behalf of students. His post gives him privileges like access to staff common rooms and connections with lecturers that other students would not have. Hence the scope for the relationship with Helen Breen.”

  He paused and considered the timeline that he had sketched on the whiteboard.

  “His story that he was at home on the Thursday holds up. He didn’t appear on any of the video footage for that evening and his computer showed that he received an email from Breen at ten-twenty. It was very much along the lines he described. She had to stay unexpectedly at her mother’s. The car keys were in an envelope in his postbox and would he go to her house and facilitate the guy coming to collect her laptop for repair.” Burrows’ sympathy for the duped young man was clearly apparent but he didn’t let it cloud his judgment. “He was so flattered to be asked to service her needs that he didn’t think. Like, why would she not bring her car to her mother’s house? Why was it necessary for him to be called in to open the door for a repair person? Why didn’t she just change the appointment to a time that suited her? And of course we know that Helen Breen was not on care duty at her mother’s on the Thursday evening, or any other evening for that matter. At the time that the email was sent from her account Helen Breen wasn’t even alive. After pushing at Doyle quite hard, both this morning in DePRec and this afternoon here in the station, I am not convinced that he was anything more than Breen’s obedient servant.” He shook his head in exasperation at how Doyle had let himself be taken in by Breen. “He seemed quite gormless at times during our questioning … as if he wasn’t capable of thinking critically where Breen was concerned. He claimed to be in love with her and he didn’t question anything she said or did. She had the measure of him, I’d say, and played him royally. My question is … why would someone use the dead woman’s email account to send messages to Bell and Doyle?”

  Paton answered quickly. “In the case of Bell, they wanted to play for time. If Breen wasn’t expected on the last day of term because she was needed to care for her mother, then it would be January before her death was discovered. Where Doyle is concerned, someone wanted her home computer taken out of the picture, and maybe a home mobile phone too. Her office was cleared of laptop, phone, and handbag and it would have been careless to leave the home stuff available for scrutiny.”

  “I get that,” said McVeigh. “But why involve Doyle? If they had the car keys and keys of Hillsborough why not just go there directly and help themselves to whatever they wanted? They could have gone there on Thursday evening and there would have been no need for Doyle to be a player at all.”

  “These are good questions,” mused Paton. “We have to assume that this was also a delaying tactic and also muddied the waters by putting Doyle in our sights. They succeeded in getting the car away from the building without having to deal with security cameras and distracted us with Doyle who was rumoured to be in a relationship with Breen. Then, without any prying eyes, they were able to take the items they wanted and dispose of whatever evidence they could have provided.”

  “It seems as if our cleaners did a very thorough job,” said Burrows. “I did ask Doyle to describe the computer-repair person but he was very vague. Another guy with a baseball cap and driving a nondescript white van.” He expelled air noisily through his pouted lips.

  “Perhaps the local force will be able to help there,” said Ian. “They keep a very close eye on traffic into and out of the village, for obvious reasons. I will follow up on that one too, later this evening.” He added it to his list of tasks and underlined it with extra emphasis. “Our killer has been painstaking in covering his tracks and removing all personal devices belonging to the victim.”

  “You are right, Ian. Let’s hold that in mind as we forge ahead here.” Paton poured herself more coffee from the thermos on the table and checked to see if the others wanted some. “It seems as if we are discounting both Doyle and Wilson for the moment. Right, Ian, what have you got for us that might shed some greater light on things?”

  He smiled with satisfaction. “Prepare for the cat to get well in among the pigeons now.”

  “One morning in the countryside and you’ve gone all rural on us,” jibed Burrows playfully as he prepared to add to the detail on the evidence board while McVeigh delivered his report.

  McVeigh took the floor. “I called first with the locals. I had forewarned them about my visit the previous evening and I was met by the duty sergeant who had a good handle on the situation. We were expected. Because they keep a close eye on movements in and out of the village he was aware of Helen Breen and happy to share. I received a verbal report from him on the spot and then a more detailed one by email this afternoon. There are not too many secrets in Hillsborough and local intelligence is sharp. You will see that what I’ve unearthed about our victim further complies with the characteristics of a sociopathic personality.” He consulted his copious notes and continued. “Breen kept a low profile and did not mix socially in the local community although her superficial charm had been noted. The Sergeant was careful to tell me that Breen was not a lawbreaker … and, as he put it, ‘what happens between consenting adults is not our concern as long as the security of the Big House and its occupants is not breached’.” He paused for a breath and continued. “When she moved there they had rapidly become aware that she had regular weekend visitors. They were usually but not exclusively male and coming from a range of EU countries. Occasionally it was a man and woman travelling as a couple. The visitors were mostly from a consistent cohort with only occasional changes. Now and then a new person would appear and a previous regular would no longer be seen. Guests nearly always arrived Saturday and left Sunday and were only very occasionally seen outside Breen’s home, walking around the lake in the forest park or visiting a local shop. Hillsborough got ‘Special’ to look into this and they found that she was a member of what’s called a ‘Meet up BDSM’ group.” He glanced around his colleagues to make sure they were following.

  “Interesting but not really surprising,” said Paton. “Promiscuity is a classic part of the sociopathic persona. When was the last guest logged by the local police?”

  “You’re right, Boss,” said Burrows. “That’s not so interesting for us. It was two weeks before the murder so not a direct link. Though it might be connected if, for example, someone close to her discovered her pastime and was jealous or outraged, for example.” He added some arrows and question marks to his whiteboard notes.

  “Is there more?” asked Paton.

  “Yes, ma’am,” said McVeigh. “The report from Hillsborough contained contact details of the regular visitors and I made a few calls this afternoon to verify the facts. I spoke to one guy from Geneva and a couple from Copenhagen. Both had been in Hillsborough in the month of December. They were surprisingly open and willing to cooperate. Again the point about consenting adults was made by all of them. They were obviously fairly well off in that they could afford to travel quite often to satisfy their particular sexual preferences. I asked if Breen ever travelled to them, and they said that she did not. Group members with families were not always able to receive guests so obviously Breen was carefree in that regard.”

  Paton’s reaction was, as ever, measured. “Let’s not g
et distracted by the unusual sexual side of this other than to ask what it may contribute by way of motive. We can work through each of our known associates of Helen Breen.”

  They homed in onto Burrow’s list on the electronic white board. “OK, so we’ll take them in the order you have them, Bill … Liam Doyle first. So he was in love with Breen and might well have felt excluded and been angry if he discovered her predilections and promiscuity. Would he have been angry enough to kill her? But then his alibi puts him elsewhere at the time … unless someone in the family is covering for him. Ian, you take Wilson.”

  “Right you are. I don’t think this new information adds to his motive other than it may have reinforced his negative opinion of her and further enraged him. All in all, I think he would have been more likely to see this as an opportunity to discredit her once and for all rather than kill her.”

  “I agree,” said Burrows. “Moving on to Professor Bell now. It’s unlikely but if he did discover her tendencies his disillusionment might have been considerable. His family is Brethren and any sexual irregularity is viewed very severely.”

  McVeigh raised a hand to intervene. “I don’t want to leap ahead but I have more to reveal, that will cast that viewpoint into doubt.”

  “We will stay with this train of thought first and then take any qualifying information,” said Paton. “Who’s left? There’s the brother Michael, Mairéad Walsh, Janet Hartnett and sundry part-time lecturers and other staff. Any of those could have taken on the mantle of avenging angel. Remember that our evidence from the autopsy is that our killer was determined and insistent. This was not a wild frenzied attack. It was a concentrated, focused demolition of the brain of the victim with way over and above the effort required just to kill her. Our killer was not out of control. On the contrary he or she was focused and decisive in intent and action.” She sat back and breathed deeply. “We are getting closer to the nub of things. I can feel it in my waters. Carry on, Ian.”

  “Hillsborough trawled through camera records and, aside from what we already know, there was nothing of note. No devices to be found either in Helen Breen’s office or her home. I will follow up with the tech guys and the phone companies to see what they can unearth remotely but not much to be gleaned there I imagine. Nothing through yet from forensics on the house but what I did find was some paper stuff – background details and some information and photos that Breen had been amassing on her colleagues. Some of it vicious enough and some of it possibly libellous.” He had his colleagues’ full focus now as he opened a green manila folder and pulled the contents onto the table in front of him. “These are all scanned onto the shared drive so I can pull them up on screen for you.”

  They turned to face the other wall where McVeigh had pulled down another retractable white screen. He then put up three enlarged photographic images.

  “I have filtered these as there were multiple copies of fairly similar images. The one on the left is a little dark but I have checked thoroughly and it comes from a series of photos Breen had of Ralph Wilson and Mairéad Walsh. They are dated and are taken in the Library Bar in the city centre. They do show a certain level of intimacy and were clearly being kept in case they became useful to Dr Breen. The photo on the right is of Professor Bell. There are a number of these also. They are identified as being in the Rainbow Bar and Club also in the city centre and a well known LGBTQ gathering place.”

  “Ah, that answers some questions!” said Paton.

  “There was a lot of speculation amongst staff about the relationship between Bell and Breen. It was assumed by some that his unquestioning loyalty to her was motivated by a sexual connection. Now we can surmise that she had guessed his secret and controlled their relationship with the ultimate threat of disclosing his homosexual tendencies. Both in his private family life and his academic career, knowledge of his sexual identity would cause waves. In the first case because it would be seen as a betrayal of both the Brethren religious values and the marriage he had entered into with his wife, Hanna. His colleagues on the other hand might judge him for his denial of the rights of LGBTQ people to be visible and socially integrated. He would please nobody, poor guy.”

  “So she had him on a tight leash,” said Burrows. “Maybe even literally.”

  Paton ignored this remark and just nodded thoughtfully. “And the third image, Ian. It seems more explicit.”

  “Yes, ma’am. That certainly is one way to describe it. It is a much older image and shows a naked young woman in the company of two similarly naked young men. There is clearly sexual activity taking place between them. The woman’s face is entirely visible but views of the men are more obscured by the angle of the shot. I reckon we can enhance this one somewhat so that at least one of the male faces is distinguishable. It is a still image from a video, I am told, and most likely stored by Breen for its potential to expose the participants. I discovered this afternoon that in the late seventies and eighties, the paramilitaries produced pornography as a part of their fundraising machinery and possibly a more sinister community-control mechanism. This photo was inside a copy of the rugby magazine for the school attended by Helen Breen, her brothers and Janet Hartnett previously Janet Baldwin. We have to assume Breen got hold of it then and held on to it in case it became useful.”

  They gazed intently at the image and there was no doubt in anybody’s mind that they were looking at a youthful photograph of the recently appointed Professor of Human Sciences.

  “Yes!” said Paton through closed teeth as she punched the air with vigour. “I’ve been waiting for that connection to fall into place since earlier in the Breen household when it was mentioned that Hartnett’s maiden name was Baldwin. When I was a rookie, back in the late 80s, there was a case that involved fundraising by various dubious means on the part of some East Belfast paramilitaries. It was a delicate affair as the reform of the Force was a good ten years ahead into the future and there were considerable pockets of sympathy within the RUC for the need to support and strengthen the loyalist paramilitaries. If my ageing memory serves me well, there was a small businessman named Baldwin implicated in that case. Ian, can you do some diplomatic digging into that? Professor Hartnett’s father may well have had a family interest in that sordid business that never became apparent at the time. My recollection is that it was all brushed under the extremely lumpy carpet.” She paused as she was drawn into the detail of the past. “Yes! I’m sure of it. My then Chief, sadly now deceased, was one of the good guys and he was spitting nails about the whole business. It was one of those memorable learning moments for me about the realities of the organisation I had joined.” She looked crestfallen for a moment and older than her years. “We’ve come a long way since those days but there are sadly plenty of skeletons still to emerge. Ian, can you turn your fresh young eyes to this tomorrow?”

  “OK.”

  “I think we can hold this new information close to our chests for this evening,” said Paton. “Dig out what you can on the Baldwin affair and see if you can identify the two men in the picture, Ian. Look at some of those school journals with class photos and pay attention to the guys in the school rugby squad around that time. Bill, talk to Frank Breen and send a copy of the picture to see if he can identify any of his classmates from back in the day. Somebody knows more about this video. See if we can dig up a copy and see who was involved in the production and distribution. And let’s have a close look at Professor Hartnett’s career. How did she graduate from porn star to successful academic? Who was covering her back?”

  They reviewed the rest of their evidence piece by piece from a fully loaded day of data collection. They agreed areas of priority for the following day and began to gather up and store the various documents that were strewn across the table. Paton knew that they would give their all to tomorrow’s tasks and with some degree of satisfaction, just before nine, she called it a day for everyone.

  38

  Caroline Paton’s call and suggestion of dinner and an unofficial co
nsultation about the killing of Helen Breen had come as a bit of a welcome surprise. Alice had just been gathering her thoughts about the case when her phone rang and the idea of talking it all out face to face was appealing. She agreed to book somewhere in the Chinese quarter and text the details to Paton.

  At nine fifteen she was sitting at a table for two in the Welcome Restaurant on the Stranmillis Road. Alice had changed Caroline’s suggested plan slightly as the Chinese quarter was noisy on a Friday evening and this place was quiet and well regarded. It was a long-established business and there was an easy confidence in the calm created by friendly, experienced staff. The very pleasant décor included a lot of crisp white linen, abundant flourishing green plants and the restful sound of trickling water. She knew that a working murder squad detective might not be the most punctual of fellow diners and so was pleasantly surprised when Caroline Paton arrived not more than ten minutes later. They shook hands a little formally and then relaxed into choosing their food and ordering equal amounts of wine and water.

  “I’m going with my gut here – although not completely.” Paton looked mischievous. “I did check with Lowell’s finest to make sure you weren’t an axe murderer. They let me know that you come from the best pedigree so I was pleased I got that right.”

  Alice attacked a prawn cracker from the basket that had arrived in front of her and nodded with feigned seriousness.

  “I’d have done the same thing myself if the shoe was on the other foot,” she said with a smile.

  “Good!” said Caroline, closing the menu in front of her. “I was going to order a vegetarian dish. What do you want?”

  “That sounds good to me too,” Alice replied.

  “Will we share the ‘abundant veggie special for two’ and let them surprise us?”