Murder in an Irish Cottage

by Carlene O'Connor

  “Correct. But I believe it was her bottle. The original. Then the killer switched it with the poisoned bottle.”

  “At least they have the bottle to test now, thanks to you.”

  “You know as well as I do that it may take a while for the results. We can’t wait around for them.” Siobhán touched Macdara so that he would stop pacing and she could start. This was why she liked to run and think; there was something about keeping the body moving that helped her sort through facts. “Ellen didn’t win the bet. The poison—or a person—scared her. Maybe both. She ran back to the cottage.”

  “Where someone finished the job.”

  “Correct. I think Ellen found the hoard—gold coins—and was flaunting them.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “She dropped one at Molly’s Café, and possibly tipped Eddie with one, and then she paints a gold coin for Eddie’s face, and ones for Dylan Kelly’s eyes, not to mention his tongue.”

  “I’m going to need you to repeat that.” He held up his hand. “Even though I’d really rather you didn’t.”

  Siobhán filled him in on the visit to Annabel’s workshop and Ellen’s increasingly bizarre paintings. He listened intently. “The guards will never consider those paintings evidence.”

  “I know. We have to use them to find other evidence.”

  “Who dropped the coin under the bed?”

  “I don’t know. Either Ellen or her killer.”

  “How can a simple village be this complicated?” He gazed at the lights on the patio for a moment as if expecting them to answer. For a second Siobhán wished they would too. Instead they just stayed pretty and twinkled.

  “Then there’s the matter of Dylan Kelly’s manuscript left on the counter along with a rejection letter from the publisher. I don’t know why Ellen would have those papers. Do you?”

  “No.”

  “Dylan said the only other place he left the manuscript was at the town hall.”

  Macdara nodded. “Which, if true, brings us back to Aiden Cunningham.”

  “We definitely need to grill him.”

  “What else?”

  “Eddie Doolan.”

  Macdara clenched his jaw. “The stalker.”

  “I got the feeling he just wanted her to know he’d overcome his stutter. ‘Stalker’ was Ellen’s word for it, but what if it was innocent?”

  “You like him.”

  “He’s a character. I feel for him.”

  “We can’t dismiss him as a suspect.”

  “I have one more thing. You’re not going to like it.”

  “Why stop now?”

  “I think Jane is having an affair with Joe Madigan.”

  “Tell me you’re joking me.”

  “And I think the reason Mary Madigan lied about her alibi—to her husband and us—is because she spent the weekend following them.”

  Macdara sighed. “You have been busy.”

  “We still have too many suspects.”

  “But you’re getting closer.”

  “I need you to press Jane—it’s not a crime to have an affair. But if she’s keeping it quiet to protect her reputation . . .”

  Macdara nodded. “She could lose her freedom instead.”

  * * *

  Their bellies were full and the mood was jovial as they headed back to the inn. After that feed everyone was ready for a snooze. But as they neared the entrance, somber figures stood blocking it. Danny MacGregor and Sergeant Eegan greeted them without smiles.

  “Are they waiting for us?” Ciarán said.

  “What’s going on?” Jane picked up on the change in the atmosphere right away.

  “Garda MacGregor and Sergeant Eagan are here,” Macdara said.

  “They’re here for me.” Jane swallowed hard. She grabbed Siobhán’s hand and squeezed. “I lied,” she said. “But I didn’t kill my mother.”

  Siobhán didn’t have time to respond.

  “Jane Delaney,” Sergeant Eegan said, stepping forward. “You are under arrest for the murder of Ellen Delaney.”

  “No,” Jane said. “I would never.”

  Danny MacGregor cleared his throat. “You are not obliged to say anything unless you wish to do so, but whatever you say will be taken down in writing and may be given in evidence.”

  “Can you just give us a minute?” Macdara asked.

  Sergeant Eegan gave a quick nod, then stepped aside, allowing Macdara and Siobhán to confer with Jane. She looked more vulnerable than Siobhán had ever seen her, as if the nightmare had finally sunk in. If only she had trusted them from the beginning. Siobhán knew she was lying about her alibi. She should have pressed her more. She would have done so if Jane hadn’t been Macdara’s cousin.

  “Don’t say a word,” Macdara said. “We’ll get you a solicitor.”

  “Just stay calm, everyone,” Nancy Flannery said, her voice an octave higher than normal, her hands clutching her face.

  “Why don’t you all go into the inn,” Siobhán said. Her brood and Nancy backed up but they remained on the footpath.

  “I want to see the charging sheet,” Macdara said as they detained Jane.

  “If you want, you can follow us to the station, Detective Sergeant Flannery.”

  “I intend to.”

  Siobhán edged up near Danny. “Is this because of her alibi?”

  “Her alibi,” Danny confirmed, keeping his voice low. “She wasn’t in Dublin at an herbal conference. She was in Ballysiogdun the entire time.”

  “What do you base this on?”

  “We have a witness as well as photographic evidence.”

  “Who is your witness?” Siobhán asked lightly.

  Danny gave her the side eye. “Nice try.”

  “This village,” Jane said from the backseat of the garda car. “Always spying on me.”

  “Is it true?” Macdara asked. “Did you lie?”

  “I did, Dara. I’m sorry.”

  “Why?” Macdara pleaded. He glanced at Siobhán, then turned back to Jane. “It’s not against the law to have an affair.”

  Jane gasped. “Why do you say that?”

  Siobhán stepped up. “There comes a time when you have to stop protecting someone else and start protecting yourself.”

  “Is there something you’d like to say now?” Sergeant Eegan asked. “Someone else involved?”

  “Jane,” Macdara said. “Give them the name of your . . . lover.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Jane.”

  “I won’t.”

  “How could she have killed anyone?” Gráinne said. “Can you not see that she’s blind?” Siobhán sighed. Now was not a perfect time to educate Gráinne on stereotypes. Because arguing that Jane was quite capable of everything sighted people were capable of, including murder, would not exactly help the current situation.

  “I’ve been speaking with folks here, and there are no shortage of suspects,” Siobhán said. “Including the strange message I received at Molly’s about one of you.”

  Sergeant Eegan, who was standing outside the guard car, pounded the hood. “There’s no merit to that message. Are you accusing my guards of not doing their job?”

  “I just want to know if you’ve figured out which guard the note is referring to. Are one of you dating a suspect?”

  “That’s none of your business,” Sergeant Eegan barked. “If you keep sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong I’ll escort you out of town m’self.”

  Danny simply stared at her from the passenger seat. He shook his head slightly, warning her off.

  “Have you brought the councilman in for questioning?” This was the hastiest arrest she had ever seen. If all they had was a false alibi, there should have been multiple suspects arrested. No answer came from the guards. Sergeant Eegan jumped in the driver’s seat and screeched away, Jane sitting up straight in the back as the rest of them watched helplessly until the garda car disappeared from view.

  * * *

  The next m
orning Siobhán had a lie-in while Macdara and his mam headed to the garda station to see Jane. To Siobhán’s delight, Eoin and Gráinne were playing big brother and sister and entertaining Ann and Ciarán. There was a soft knock on the door, and Siobhán opened it to see James standing in the hall. “You’re here!” She ambushed him with a hug.

  “I can’t stay away.”

  “Come in.”

  She dragged him inside while he plopped down in a lounge chair. “Cup of tea?”

  “Sure.” She put the kettle on. “I’ve been speaking with Elise,” James said at last.

  Siobhán suspected as much, but felt a twinge of worry. James needed stability, not emotional chaos. Then again, he was a recovering alcoholic. Was he latching on to another form of addiction? Chasing after love that wasn’t ever going to fulfill him? “Do you think that’s wise?”

  He folded his arms. “That wasn’t why I mentioned it.”

  Grand. “Why did you mention it then?”

  “I asked her to keep her ears open in case anyone was talking about Mrs. Delaney’s murder.”

  Siobhán had nearly forgotten Elise was home in Waterford. Mystery of where James had been disappearing solved. If only every case were that easy. “And?”

  “She overheard several heads say ‘What a pity. She leaves Waterford to get away from a stalker and she ends up dead.’ ”

  “Yes. I’m aware, and we know who it is.”

  “You do?”

  “Have you seen the seanchaí?”

  “No.”

  “You wouldn’t be able to miss him. His name is Eddie Doolan.”

  “Elise heard something else.”

  “Go on.”

  “Ellen Delaney had a reputation as a strict schoolteacher.”

  “We know that too.”

  He gave her an admiring look. “You are good at your job.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You said he’s a storyteller?”

  “Yes.”

  “Elise said he used to drive everyone mental singing children’s songs and forcing everyone to solve his riddles.”

  Siobhán nodded. “He’s a character.”

  “Sounds like more than that to me,” James said. “Sounds like a danger.”

  Chapter 29

  Riddles . . . danger . . . children’s songs . . . She felt as if someone had whapped her on the side of her head. She sprung from her seat.

  “What?” James pointed at her. “What did I say?”

  “You’ve given me a thought. I need to follow up on something.” She texted the information to Macdara and then called Danny. She grabbed her handbag and her jacket.

  “Can’t it wait until you’ve finished your tea?”

  “Not with Jane in jail.”

  James stood. “I’ll come with you.”

  Siobhán hesitated. She loved the company of her older brother, and everyone needed to feel needed. But she was an official guard now, and didn’t like involving any of them when she didn’t have to. Besides, her entire brood was here and needed looking after. “I’d feel safer if you stayed here.”

  James gave her a look. “I don’t like you out there by yourself. I get the feeling you’re going to confront the seanchaí.” That was the problem with family; they knew what you were thinking with just the twitch of an eyebrow.

  “I’m still working through it. Please. You just said I’m good at my job. You have to let me do it.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re going to confront him alone?”

  “No. I promise. I called Danny.” James, along with the rest of her siblings, had met Danny MacGregor on several occasions.

  “What does Macdara think about Danny?” James called as Siobhán headed for the door.

  “I’m sure you can imagine,” she called back.

  * * *

  Siobhán was standing by the cottage when a number flashed across her mobile. Danny MacGregor. She’d left him a message, and she was relieved to see how quickly he was calling back. “Where are you?” he asked.

  “In a field. Staring at cows.” Eddie Doolan hadn’t been in any of his usual locations, so she’d come here to ponder it all.

  “Are you alone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Give me the location, I’ll pick you up.”

  “I’m at the cottage. What’s going on?”

  “Someone reported an abandoned truck. I’m on me way to check it out. Thought you might like to join.”

  “Is it red?”

  “It is indeed.”

  Ellen’s truck. “I’ll be waiting.”

  * * *

  In the far corner of the small parking lot at the bus station, a red pickup was parked diagonally across two spaces. Danny put on gloves and handed a pair to Siobhán. They approached the truck sideways. The back cab was empty and no one was visible in the seats. “Clear,” Danny said as he was upon it. He tried the passenger door. Locked. He quickly moved around to the driver’s side. It was also locked.

  He peered in the window and glanced at Siobhán. “We’ve got a handbag and a mobile phone on the seat.”

  “It’s Ellen’s truck,” Siobhán said. “It has to be.”

  “I’d say it’s an emergency then,” Danny said, removing a slim file. “Have you learned this trick?”

  “No. Did the station teach you?”

  “YouTube,” Danny said with a grin. “C’m’ere, I’ll teach you.”

  Siobhán joined Danny at the driver’s side and watched as he wedged the slim wire down by the window, and after moving it sideways and up and down and sideways again, the lock clicked. “Thankfully it’s an old truck. The fancy new ones aren’t as easy.”

  The door opened with a squeak and for a moment they simply stared at the handbag and the phone.

  “Why would someone lock the doors but leave the purse and mobile out in the open?” Siobhán mused.

  “He or she wanted us to see it, but also wanted us to work for it?” Danny guessed.

  “Maybe whoever moved the truck wasn’t the killer.”

  Danny shrugged. “I prefer to deal with facts.” He shut the door to the truck. “As much as I’d love to paw through it, we’ll have to call the team out, and place the items in evidence bags first.”

  Siobhán sighed. He was right. She was dying to have a look, but procedures must be followed. The phone would need to be combed through for recent calls. Did Ellen’s purse contain money, or receipts, or notes, or anything that would point to a killer?

  “There’s something under the passenger seat.” He moved around to the other side of the truck. Siobhán followed. He handed her the metal wire. “Your turn.”

  She slipped it down by the window and calmed her mind, trying to connect to the feel of the wire, and find the latch to trip. Seconds later she heard a pop. Danny whistled. “Besting me. Just like old times.”

  She opened the door. Danny came around and began his investigation, opening the glove box, checking under the seats. He lifted a newspaper. “Nothing sinister.” Siobhán neared the truck again and leaned in. “What are you doing?” There was a distinct odor in the cab.

  “What does it smell like to you?”

  Danny returned and sniffed. “Cleaner?”

  “Leather cleaner,” Siobhán said. “Shoe polish.”

  Danny sniffed again. “You’re right.” He arched his eyebrow. “And?”

  “Jane smelled leather in the cottage when she first found her mam.”

  “I didn’t hear about this.”

  “Maybe you were too busy booking her for murder.”

  His face went still. “She lied about her alibi. She was in Ballysiogdun the entire weekend.”

  “I know. But she certainly didn’t drive the truck here.”

  “We can’t be sure of that.”

  “What?”

  “She has some sight, and look how it’s parked.”

  She could hardly argue with him there. And it wasn’t going to help to get combative with the one guard here she truste
d. “Did the results of the footprint come in?”

  “I’ll have to check.”

  “Maybe we can pull CCTV from the bus station?” If any of their suspects were the type to polish their shoes, it was Aiden Cunningham.

  Danny looked at his watch. “The guards are going to take their sweet time. I’ll drive you back to town.”

  She hesitated. It was now or never. “Who are you dating, Danny?”

  He kicked a stone with the tip of his boot. “Are you accusing me of something?”

  “No. But the killer might be.”

  “Annabel.”

  “Oh.” Her pixie-like face rose before her. “I can see that.”

  He smiled. “She’s . . .” He shook his head. “Couldn’t imagine my life without her.”

  “I get that.” She began to pace. “Someone is worried we’re getting too close. Creating a diversion.”

  “And that someone might be sitting in a jail cell right now.”

  “Or the wrong someone might be sitting in the jail cell.”

  “We’re still following up on Eddie Doolan. But I won’t lie. The sergeant likes Jane for this.”

  “What about Geraldine’s metal detector?”

  “Did you confirm that or is it still just a theory?”

  “All you have to do is go over to her house and find the one with a round base.”

  He shook his head. “It’s going to take hard evidence.”

  “The councilman and the notarized agreement?”

  “He admitted to that. It’s not a crime.” He stepped closer. “What do you think Jane was up to that weekend? You said something about an affair?”

  “I have no proof.”

  “But you suspect?”

  Siobhán hesitated. One of the reasons Jane was sitting in jail was that she had refused to give up the name of her lover. She wouldn’t want Siobhán betraying her. But Siobhán’s duty was to find a killer. And that meant the truth must come out. “Joe Madigan.”

  Danny whistled. “You’re right. We have a lot of people to keep our eye on.”

  There was something Siobhán was forgetting. What was it? “Dylan Kelly. Did you follow up on the photograph he told me he had?”

  Danny nodded. “It shows a figure near the cottage. We believe it’s Eddie Doolan.”

  Pinpricks of electricity shot up Siobhán’s spine. “Where near the cottage?”