‘The lab report came back yesterday.’
‘I thought you said there was little or no outlay,’ Dermot said.
‘I paid for it on my credit card,’ I said. ‘It’s a private expense.’
Dermot’s eyes narrowed.
‘And?’ Gabriel said. ‘Have you a result?’
‘Deirdre Carney’s DNA is on the drinks coaster. There are two other female DNA samples on it. Not mine – the control sample I gave didn’t appear on the coaster. It may be cross-contamination from a hotel employee, or possibly a classmate: she hid the coaster in a mechanical instrument box that she used at school. But there’s male DNA too. And it matches the male DNA on the pen that Gill used to sign my programme at the Opera House.’
Silence.
‘It’s inadmissible,’ Dermot said. ‘And a breach of his constitutional rights. Not to mention being unethical and an invasion of Gill’s privacy. DNA from a pen he used. Utterly out of order. You could be struck off for this.’
‘I told you, Dermot. It was a private expense. I never had any intention of using these results against Gill. But the DNA sample I get via discovery in the course of the civil proceedings will be an entirely different matter. If it ever gets that far. I’m inclined to think that Gill’s legal team might be keen to enter into early settlement talks with me.’
‘It’s not enough,’ Dermot said. ‘Even if we accept all that you have to say, even if we accept that Jeremy Gill sexually assaulted this unfortunate girl …’
‘It was rape and her name was Deirdre Carney,’ I said.
‘Okay, okay, even if we accept, for the sake of argument, the alleged rape of Deirdre Carney deceased,’ Dermot said. ‘It was fifteen years ago. How on earth can Jeremy Gill be said to have caused her death?’
‘Just a moment, please.’
I went to the phone on the side table and rang Tina’s extension.
‘We’re ready for the medical records.’
‘You have medical records?’ Gabriel said.
‘I collected them in a taxi this morning. There are a lot of them. Two banker’s boxes, in fact. Deirdre had a long psychiatric history that started in the months after the 12th of December 1998, and none before it. Frequent readmissions. Self-harm. Serious depressive episodes. And a lot of therapy. I was worried that she wouldn’t give any details of the attack. As it turns out, my fears were groundless. Her version tallies almost exactly with Rhona Macbride’s. How the incident took place in a hotel room, unnamed hotel unfortunately but, as you saw earlier, Lorcan Lucey puts her in Muskerry Castle on the 12th of December, the same night Gill stayed there, according to the guest book, with him leaving on the morning that Ann Carney found her daughter bruised and bleeding, having been out all night. The medical records describe alcohol, and possible sedative use. A threat to kill her if she reported the rape. And the name she refers to him by throughout is ‘J’. There are hundreds of pages of notes detailing her severe trauma secondary to rape and violence at the hands of her assailant, her inability to pursue a criminal complaint as a result of ongoing psychiatric disability, and her fear for her personal safety if she were to do so. Near the end of her life, she was working with her therapist towards making a report about ‘J’. But his Oscar nomination seems to have made her change her mind. That’s what her suicide note said. That he’s too strong now. She must have thought she’d never be believed.’
There was a knock at the door. I let Tina in.
‘Thanks,’ I said, and took the box from her.
‘These are some of the records. I didn’t have time to prepare slides. And I haven’t yet obtained a formal psychiatric report but once I get it I’m certain that I will have enough evidence to draft and file the Carneys’ claim against Gill. Absent the full psychiatric report, maybe you’ll bear with me, Dermot, as I read out a few extracts.’
‘Is this necessary?’ Dermot said.
‘I think it is,’ Gabriel said. ‘Go ahead, Finn.’
‘Before you start, Finn, Detective O’Riordan is in reception for you,’ Tina said.
‘What does she want?’ I said.
‘All I know is she’s here to collect you. You’re wanted in Dublin immediately.’
44
‘You’re not seriously expecting me to believe that you don’t know what this is about?’
‘Finn, that’s the twentieth time you’ve asked me and the answer is still the same. Like I said, I was called into Divisional HQ in Anglesea Street to see the Chief Super. And when I met her, worried sick, let me tell you, she tells me that she has a special request from DI Lenihan. And that, because of that request, she wants me to secure your co-operative attendance in Dublin today, soon as. Grand says I, as if I’m going to disagree …’
She paused, then continued.
‘So, I started tracking you down. When you weren’t at home or answering your mobile, I said I’d try Tina to see if she knew where you were.’
‘And you don’t know why he wants me?’
‘Well unless Lenihan is suddenly after taking on another case, I’m assuming it’s to do with the Macbride murder.’
‘Duh. I know that,’ I said. ‘But what?’
‘Look, with cutbacks and everything, there’s no way I’d be put doing this job unless there was something big happening. And you’ll find out soon enough. Now stop talking and let me concentrate.’
At that, she accelerated through an amber light. I shut my mouth and closed my eyes, and allowed my mind to drift. Sadie was right. There had to be a major break in the case, otherwise we wouldn’t be careering at 120 kph through Dublin’s outer suburbs.
If the case was really over, then what came next? Probably, hopefully, I’d get my job back, though there were no guarantees. And I would have a lot more time to think, no excuses left. I would have to start facing up to what I had known in my heart for a while now, that I couldn’t bear the thought of Davy and me finishing. But if what Davy and I had going on wasn’t friendship any more, then what was it?
My phone pinged – a ‘Free for a call?’ message from Marie Wade. When I’d checked my phone earlier, apart from the missed calls from Sadie and a couple from my mother, there had also been one from Marie, replying to my text message of the evening before. I hadn’t yet had a chance to reply, but I did need to talk to her.
‘Hey, Sadie, I have to make a call.’
‘As long as you’re not bothering me with questions I can’t answer, work away.’
‘Hi, Marie. Sorry we’ve kept missing each other. Have you remembered something?’
‘Not exactly. But I’ve seen something, and I don’t know if I’ve got it right.’
‘What did you see?’
‘You’ll think I’m stupid.’
‘I won’t, Marie. I promise. What did you see?’
‘I think I saw Daniel O’Brien last week. He looked different so that’s why it took a good while for me to realise.’
‘Where do you think you saw him?’
‘At work, in the Opera House,’ she said. ‘I’d nipped downstairs for a few minutes to have a look at the Jeremy Gill interview, I can’t remember which day it was.’
‘Wednesday, at noon.’
‘That’s right,’ she said. ‘But it was taking ages to get started, it was all applause and stuff, so I had to go back up to my office and when I was on my way out the door of the dress circle, your man was coming in against me.’
‘Daniel?’
‘Yeah, or the guy I think is him. He said “hi” and smiled and I knew his face but I couldn’t remember from where. I thought no more about it until it dawned on me …’
‘Can you describe him?’
‘I’ll give it a go. He was wearing contacts or he’s had laser done on his eyes because he wasn’t wearing glasses. He’s lost tons of weight and he’s a lot blonder, but that might be the sun, because he was really brown so maybe he’s been living abroad.’
‘Can you remember what he was wearing?’
‘No, sorry.’
‘Can you think of anything else?’
‘Not really,’ she said. ‘It was the smile that brought him back to me. He was always so pleasant, always joking and laughing. That’s what made me remember.’
‘That’s great, Marie. And if you think of anything more at all, will you text me?’
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘But I probably won’t. I’m not even sure it was him.’
I was trying to sort through the repercussions of what Marie had said when Sadie veered left into the Garda station car park, drove at speed to the far end and came to a sudden stop just before she hit the wall.
‘Come ‘on,’ she said. ‘Come on, wouldya? You know, for the one who was all talk on the way up you’re awful reluctant to get out of the car. Why so?’
‘That last phone call. I …’
‘Get your arse out of the car, Fitzpatrick.’
‘Sadie, I just found out … Oh, what the hell, I suppose it can wait.’
‘O’Riordan and Fitzpatrick to see DI Lenihan,’ Sadie said at the public office window.
‘I’ll buzz yiz straight in. Youse are to go to Interview Room 3.’
‘Interview room?’ I said to Sadie. ‘That doesn’t sound very promising.’
‘You’re a member of the public, Finn. Where else is he going to see you? The Shelbourne Hotel? Don’t be getting above yourself, now.’
‘Being with you is a real confidence booster, O’Riordan.’
Sadie laughed.
‘Don’t want you getting a big head is all.’
‘I won’t make the mistake of offering tea,’ Lenihan said as we walked into Interview Room 3. ‘I know it’s not up to Fitzpatrick’s high standards. Anyway, we’ve no time for pleasantries.’
Lenihan was standing, arms folded, his back to the only window. Apart from a laptop on the table beside him, and three chairs, there was nothing in the room. No files. No notebooks. I tried to work out what was going on, but Lenihan’s expression gave nothing away. Grey in the face, there was a nervous caffeinated energy about him. He had been working all the hours. But to what end?
‘I was busy over the last few days. I didn’t have time to, em, take calls or anything.’
It was the closest I was going to get to an apology from him.
‘So did you follow up on the tips I gave you? I deserve to know,’ I said.
‘Why the fuck do you think you’re here? If you stay quiet for two minutes, I’ll tell you. The house first. We looked into it. So, yeah, Gill owns it, you were right about that. We got a warrant to search the two houses. Next door is vacant mostly, used only rarely by him as a guest house for when he has visitors in town, apparently. Also, it has a separate basement flat. And the interesting thing is that there’s a connecting door between Gill’s kitchen and the basement next door …’
‘So Gill had rear access to the garden next door.’
‘The connecting door was hidden by a dresser that was pulled in front of it when we called there the first time,’ Lenihan said. ‘We did a full-scale search the second time. Once we found the connecting door, we started looking closer at the place next door. Turns out there’s a garage at the end of the garden that opens on to the public road.’
‘Which is where Esther keeps her car,’ I said.
‘Well that’s what we were hoping, but the garage was empty so …’
‘Does she have a car? Did you prove that? If she does, it’s hidden somewhere.’
‘Not so fast. We found that Gill’s company Gill/Direct owns a Mini Cooper and, when we did another insurance search, we learnt that Esther is insured to drive it.’
‘We need to find that car,’ I said. ‘It has to be the car he used. He drove the Mini to Rhona’s house the morning of the murder and then dumped it somewhere, and got back into his house via the basement next door, and got an alibi from the mother. Now that you know the car, surely you can find it on traffic cameras and CCTV. There must be footage of him driving it when he’s supposed to be at home with his mother.’
‘That’s what we thought too. Turns out we were wrong. Your pal Jeremy Gill didn’t drive anywhere that morning …’
‘What are you saying?’
Lenihan grabbed a chair, sat at the table, and opened his laptop. Sadie and I pulled up the other two chairs either side of him.
‘We found footage of the Mini at various points on the route between Clontarf and Rhona’s place. See this, where the Mini turns off by Peter’s Church. We got a good shot of the driver there.’
‘Jesus,’ I said.
‘I always knew that an Irish mammy would do anything for her son but this is beyond the beyond,’ Sadie said.
‘It’s Esther? Esther killed Rhona?’ I said.
‘Wait,’ Lenihan said.
He clicked into the next photo. It showed a hooded figure in the passenger seat beside Esther Gill.
‘She drove him,’ I said. ‘She drove her son and watched while he killed Rhona.’
‘He kept his head bent most of the time so we haven’t got a good image, apart from this one. This one was taken near Gaffneys’ pub in Fairview, he looks relaxed, job done.’
The enhanced photo showed a close-up of Jeremy Gill’s blond assistant.
‘Boyband,’ I whispered.
I couldn’t believe it. I got up from the table and walked to the window and pressed my forehead against the cool of the glass and closed my eyes.
45
Lenihan and Sadie were talking about Esther’s Mini when I turned around again.
‘It’s with the Technical Bureau,’ Lenihan said. ‘They’re going over it with a fine-tooth comb. We found it parked two streets away. We reckon Esther parked it in the garage when she got back first but that it was moved from there later, just in case.’
‘Either she was confident it’d never be traced,’ Sadie said. ‘Or she didn’t want to draw attention to it by burning or dumping it somewhere.’
‘Exactly,’ Lenihan said.
‘Are they under arrest?’ I asked.
‘Esther is,’ Lenihan said. ‘She’s at this station. Gill is too. Voluntarily. Boyband, as you call him, has disappeared. That’s why I got you up here. To see if you have any idea where he might be. Cos I fucking don’t.’
‘Is Esther saying anything? Is she admitting …?’ I asked.
‘She’s admitting very little. She’s claiming she was forced to drive him. That he had a carving knife as well as the screwdriver he used to kill Rhona. She says he looked and acted like he’d lost his mind, either drugs or a breakdown, she says. He came into her kitchen from his basement flat next door. She says the connecting door was never locked and that’s why they had to pull the dresser in front of it later, to keep him out, not to hide the connecting door. She says he left straight after the murder. That she was terrified, alone, vulnerable and that Gill was asleep up in bed all the time. He’s backing her up 100 per cent. He says he only found out about the murder afterwards and that all he’s guilty of is giving his poor old ma an alibi, he was just trying to keep her out of jail. He says she’s in poor health, and he was afraid she’d die in prison.’
‘He’s still an accessory after the fact,’ Sadie said.
‘Is he?’ I asked. ‘Would a jury convict him for trying to protect his mother? If they believe that Esther acted under duress, under the threat of being killed herself, she might be acquitted. And, if she’s acquitted, Gill might walk too.’
‘I agree,’ Lenihan said. ‘We need to concentrate on the primary––’
‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ I said. ‘I have to make a call.’
I went out to the street for air, found Tiernan McDevitt’s number in my phone, and sent a text, asking if he was free to take a call. He replied ‘who this?’ which I took as a yes and rang him.
‘Hi, Tiernan, it’s Finn Fitzpatrick, we met last week in Cork Opera House.’
‘Yes, and you bought me lunch. It’s nice to talk to you again, I …’
&
nbsp; ‘Remember the blond guy you were talking to, you said he was Gill’s assistant?’
‘Well, yeah, I do, but …?’
‘Do you know his name?’
‘It’s Donnie. His last name is, um … let me think …’
‘Might it be O’Brien?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Tiernan said. ‘It could be something like that.’
‘How long has he worked for Gill?’
‘Years, like ten years, twelve years, probably more. He wasn’t involved when we were making the short film. But he was hanging around a lot when Jeremy went to the Oscars that first time.’
‘That was about six months after the short had been shown at Cork Film Festival the previous October?’
‘Yes. I was on the periphery by then, but I recall seeing him at a cast and crew celebration when Jeremy got back from Hollywood, some time, maybe around the end of March? I wasn’t talking to Donnie, but I couldn’t help seeing him. He acted like he was Jeremy’s devoted puppy. He looked a lot different back then, though. He was fatter, wore those Harry Potter glasses, and his hair––’
‘How did Donnie and Jeremy know each other?’
‘They were both working in Thomson AdGroup. At least, I assume that’s how they got to know each other. Maybe they were friends before that. Then Jeremy got super-successful, needed an assistant and Donnie got lucky. He and Jeremy are extremely close. Donnie’s a minder as much as an assistant. If Jeremy goes a little too far, like he did with me in the interview at the Opera House in Cork, good old Donnie swoops in to sort things out.’
‘Sort things out?’
‘He’s diplomatic, gets on with everyone. Jeremy rubs someone up the wrong way, Donnie makes everything okay again. It’s a job I wouldn’t want no matter how big the pay cheque was. But Donnie likes it, I presume, or he’d have left a long time ago.’
‘And he knows all about Jeremy for the last ten, twelve years, maybe longer?’
Tiernan gave a hollow laugh.
‘Oh yeah,’ he said. ‘Donnie knows where the bodies are buried.’
I tried to process what I’d discovered. The former Film Festival education officer Daniel O’Brien was now calling himself ‘Donnie’ and had been working for Jeremy Gill for a decade plus. They might or might not have met for the first time in Cork, but somehow Donnie ended up working in the same ad company as Gill six months after the 1998 Film Festival. Maybe Gill got Donnie the job, or maybe he applied for it himself? And Daniel/Donnie had no presence on LinkedIn or any other social media because he didn’t need the profile, and there was probably a strict privacy condition under his contract of employment. But none of that mattered.
Darkest Truth Page 28
