For Your Sins: previously published as Joseph's Mansions

by Richard Pitman

  Jane turned to her mother. ‘How much, Mum?’

  ‘Fifty thousand pounds. But only if Monroe’s caught and the money he stole is returned.’

  Jane nodded. ‘That’s good.’

  ‘Mum,’ Billy said, ‘couldn’t we have another reward just for getting the horse back? That’s what Dad needs. It doesn’t really matter about this Monroe guy.’

  Maggie looked at him tenderly as she realized how thoughtless she’d been. ‘Yes, Billy, we could. And we should. Shouldn’t we, Frankie?’

  ‘Sure. Of course. I’ll talk to the police about it.’ He glanced at Maggie and she suddenly realized the spot she’d put him in. Only a few people knew that the dead horses were not Ulysses and Angel Gabriel. The press certainly didn’t know.

  Jane said, ‘But we want to catch this man, too, Monroe, don’t we?’

  ‘Without a doubt,’ Frankie said.

  There were a few seconds of silence then Sean said, ‘I have a piece of paper that says Gerry Monroe on it with a phone number… and some directions to a house… near Lambourn.’

  Everyone looked at Sean, and his brow furrowed in a frown and he sat quite still. Frankie said, ‘Can I ask where you got it, this paper?’

  Sean looked at him silently for a moment then said, ‘I took it out of me da’s pocket when he was drunk one night. I… I thought it might be money. He never ever gave me any money and I needed to buy things for the house.’

  ‘It’s OK, Sean. You’ve done nothing wrong. When was this that you took the paper?’

  ‘‘Twould be a while back, a long while. ‘Twas after me da had been to England on a message for Kelly Corell.’

  Frankie opened his mouth to speak then stopped, as though pondering, seeking the best words. ‘Kelly Corell from Dublin?’

  ‘That’s right. The gangster fella. I was–’ He stopped as Jane jabbed his thigh with the butt of her fork.

  ‘Your da worked for Mister Corell?’ Frankie asked.

  ‘He did. He’s his chauffeur mostly, but he does a lot of things for him.’ Sean didn’t seem to realize he’d lapsed into the present tense. Jane sat staring straight ahead as though conscious of her mother’s ever-widening eyes on her, as Sean’s background began taking shape.

  Frankie said, ‘And you still say you have this paper, Sean?’

  ‘Tis in me room at home. On top o’ the chest o’ drawers. At least it was when I was last in there for I threw it there and haven’t tidied up since.’

  Frankie and Maggie smiled at his honesty. Sean said, ‘D’ye think it might be the same fella, the one yer after?’

  ‘It might and it might not, but I wouldn’t mind seeing the paper. How would you feel about flying over with me tomorrow?’

  Sean looked at Jane. She nodded vigorously. Sean said, ‘Will it be OK to come back with you too?’ Frankie laughed. ‘Of course it will!’

  In a corner of the departure lounge at Dublin Airport, Frankie waited while Stonebanks ran through in his mind the directions Frankie had just read to him from the paper. ‘I think it might be Kennedy’s old place. I’d heard someone bought it last year.’

  ‘Do you know who?’ Frankie asked.

  ‘I don’t, but I could try and find out.’

  ‘My car’s at Liverpool Airport, but I’m going to fly back to London and come straight to your place if that’s OK.’

  ‘Of course. I’ll see what I can dig up by the time you get here.’

  Frankie put his phone away and turned to Sean. ‘Hungry?’

  ‘I’m fine thanks.’

  ‘Want a drink, then?’

  Sean nodded. ‘Yes, please.’

  They sat at the table, Frankie with a mug of cappuccino and Sean with a glass of Coke. Frankie said, ‘Are you sure you don’t mind going back via London?’

  Sean shook his head. ‘I don’t mind.’

  ‘I can put you on a train to Crewe. Jane and her ma will come and pick you up there.’

  Sean nodded. Frankie smiled and said, ‘You’ll not be away from her too long then. I’m sure you’d rather have Jane’s company than mine.’

  Sean shrugged and drank some Coke. Frankie wondered what was going through his mind. The kid must be totally bewildered by all that had happened in the last few days. ‘I was sorry to hear about your da,’ Frankie said. ‘It couldn’t have been easy for you going back there today.’

  ‘D’ye think Kelly Corell is involved with kidnapping the horses?’

  ‘I don’t know. I hope in a way he isn’t, for I hear he’s not a very nice man at all.’

  ‘He killed me da.’

  Frankie stared at him. ‘He killed your da?’

  Sean, grim-faced, nodded and sucked Coke through his straw. ‘Jane said I wasn’t to tell her ma right away until she gets to know me better, so would you please not tell her?’

  ‘I won’t tell her without your permission.’

  Sean nodded again and said, ‘Me da’s supposed to have stole ten grand off him, but I don’t believe he did.’

  Frankie, taken aback at the cool way Sean was talking about the murder of his father, said, ‘Have you been to the police?’

  ‘They said it was suicide and that they wouldn’t want to be wasting time on it but everybody knows it wasn’t suicide, for Pat Pusey and the rest of Corell’s men had been lookin for me da for a while. That’s how me and Jane met. Pat Pusey had me by the throat down at the ferry terminal tryin’ to get out of me where me da was and me not havin’ seen him for ages. I couldn’t tell him and wouldn’t’ve even if I knew.’

  ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t. Did you tell the police this?’

  ‘Jane told them but they paid no heed.’

  Frankie shook his head. ‘Let’s see what comes out of all this kidnapping business. See if Corell is involved and then we’ll go back to the police. I have some friends in England who know some people pretty high up in the Garda.’

  ‘They’ll not do anything about Kelly Corell for he has the guards in his pocket, so he has. He pays them bribes and has stuff to blackmail a few of them.’

  ‘Well, let’s just see.’

  ‘So d’ye think me da might have had somethin’ to do with the kidnappin’ with him havin’ that paper with Monroe’s name on it?’

  ‘I don’t know, Sean. Maybe not. I think Mister Monroe was into more than just kidnapping. It could have been something else completely. The ten grand your da’s supposed to have stolen, what was the story behind that, do you know?’

  ‘He was supposed to take the money to a man in England and he never turned up is what they say, but I don’t know for I hadn’t seen him for a while and he never said much to me anyway.’ Frankie nodded, watching Sean’s face, trying to imagine the life he’d had, the relationship with his father. ‘Do ye think those directions mean somethin’?’ Sean asked.

  ‘Might do. Might be something. Might be nothing.’

  ‘What will you do when ye get back, will ye be goin’ to that place?’

  ‘I think we probably will.’

  ‘Can I come?’

  Frankie hesitated. Sean said, ‘Me da must’ve been there, or he wouldn’t have had those directions in his pocket. I’d like to come with you and see where he’d been when he was over in England.’

  ‘Can we wait and see how the land lies when we get to London?’

  ‘OK. It’s just that if all this has anythin’ to do with why me da was killed, I’d like to try and help.’ Their flight was announced on the PA system. Frankie stood and smiled at Sean. ‘That’s fair enough. We just need to see how best you can do that. Ready to go?’

  Sean got up. As they walked toward the departure gate Sean looked up at Frankie and said, ‘Was it hard bein’ a priest? Is that why ye left?’

  Frankie smiled and put his hand on Sean’s shoulder. ‘I’ll tell you about it on the flight.’

  40

  It was late evening when they got to Stonebanks’ house. Frankie had spoken to Maggie, and Sean to Jane; he was staying with Frankie at
least until tomorrow. Sean watched Stonebanks and Frankie sitting side by side at the kitchen table. The piece of paper with the directions and phone number lay in front of them. He’d liked Stonebanks when Frankie introduced him and he liked Frankie too, and wondered why couldn’t he have had one of them for his da? He felt guilty for thinking that and apologized silently to his father.

  Stonebanks tapped at the paper with a pen and said, ‘The number is Monroe’s mobile, I checked it with his ex-employer.’

  ‘What about the house?’ Frankie asked. The man who owns it, did you manage to find anything on him?’

  ‘It was bought almost a year ago by a company called One Point Four Limited based in Jersey. I’m trying to find out more about the directors and stuff but it’s hard work. Anyway, the word is that somebody is definitely living there.’

  Frankie nodded. ‘Want to go and have a look?’

  Stonebanks grimaced. ‘We just need to be careful here, Frankie. It’s not a licensed premises. We’ve got no jurisdiction.’

  ‘So we’re out driving, we take a wrong turn and stop at a house for directions.’

  Sean was all for this idea, but he saw Stonebanks shake his head. ‘It’s not that kind of place, Frankie. It’s remote. Sits in the middle of the woods at the end of an old track. Anyone taking a wrong turn off that road, anyone with any sense, would turn round again before he got anywhere near the house.’

  ‘It’s dark, Geoff,’ Frankie pointed out. ‘We can drive so far and walk the rest.’

  ‘And how are we supposed to see where we’re going?’

  ‘Take a torch,’ Sean suggested.

  Frankie smiled. ‘There y’are. That’s the answer.’

  Sean said, ‘If anybody comes out youse can say I got lost and youse were out lookin’ for me.’ Frankie said, ‘That’s a good idea, Geoff. At least, if we do meet anyone and Sean’s with us, it’ll make it look less suspicious on our side. It’s not as if you’d take a boy with you if you were up to anything, is it? No offence to you, Sean.’

  Stonebanks sighed and stood up.

  The flashlight stayed unlit as they walked down the track toward the house. The full moon gave sufficient light through the leafless trees, bright enough, at times, to cast shadows. The sound of their shoes on the gritty track seemed loud to a nervous Stonebanks. He said quietly, ‘I think the house is just around this bend.’

  The house was in view from around the bend but still two hundred yards away. Lights showed through three ground-floor windows. They moved forward cautiously and were still a hundred yards away when Sean whispered, ‘I think there’s a camera on top of the gate.’

  They stopped. Frankie and Stonebanks tried to focus on the gates. Frankie said, ‘I think you’re right, Sean.’

  ‘We’d best go back,’ Stonebanks decided. ‘We can get the police here in the morning.’

  ‘Geoff,’ Frankie said, ‘whoever’s in there could be gone in the morning.’

  Stonebanks turned to face him. ‘Frankie, this is getting a bit out of our league now. We should go back.’ Frankie stood silent. Stonebanks said, ‘Can you picture the tape off that camera getting played in court or on TV or something with us creeping around a private citizen’s house, two Jockey Club Security Department officials with a teenage kid? No offence, Sean.’

  Sean said, ‘I could climb up there and cover up the camera.’

  ‘You could Sean,’ Frankie agreed, ‘but I think we can maybe find another way in.’

  ‘Frankie, come on, for God’s sake!’ Stonebanks said in frustration.

  ‘No, Geoff, I don’t want to let this go. You’ve got to admit I’ve been patient. I took your advice in not going straight for Culling, in trying to get Monroe first. As soon as we get Monroe, I can get the man who was responsible for killing my wife. Monroe might be in that house now. I can’t just turn around now and go and sleep easily tonight. Do you think you could if you were me?’

  ‘I don’t know Frankie. I just don’t know!’ He seemed rattled.

  Frankie reached to grasp his arm. ‘Why don’t you go back to the car and wait?’

  ‘What are you actually going to do?’ Stonebanks asked.

  ‘Just have a little wander around the back. There must be another way in.’

  ‘Then what?’

  ‘I’m going to try and look through those windows. If I see Monroe, you can call the police then. I won’t go any further than that.’

  Stonebanks rubbed his face with both hands. ‘Promise?’

  ‘Promise.’

  They stepped off the track into the woods and continued toward the house. Twenty minutes later, after skirting the perimeter, they stood touching the eight-foot-high railings, which they now knew surrounded the whole property. Stonebanks said, ‘This must have cost a fortune.’

  ‘Whatever they’re doing in there,’ Frankie said, ‘They’re not taking many chances, are they?’

  ‘I could climb that easy,’ Sean offered.

  ‘No!’ Stonebanks said.

  Frankie said, ‘I could climb it pretty easily myself, I reckon.’

  Stonebanks sighed heavily and said resignedly, ‘I’ll wait here.’

  ‘Give us a boost then!’ Sean said. Frankie helped Sean over and Stonebanks helped Frankie. Where Sean had scrambled easily down the other side, Frankie jumped, landing awkwardly and rolling in the wet grass. ‘Ye alright?’ Sean whispered.

  ‘I am.’

  They moved toward the windows, picking their way across the gravel driveway. Frankie was aware of the sudden heightening of his senses as the adrenaline kicked in. He thought of Kathy. The fact that she would have loved this and that he was doing it for her helped him feel close to her again. He glanced across at Sean, light from the windows on his face now. He looked alert but very calm, and Frankie recalled the scrapes he used to get into as a boy and realized that Sean would probably see this as tame compared to some of the things he’d done.

  They reached the first window, Frankie at one side, Sean at the other, Frankie moved just enough to squint through the glass. Sean, watching, copied him. They saw no one inside. Frankie crouched and crept toward Sean. Sean followed him around the corner to the next window. The pane was frosted. They stood listening. The clink of glass on glass could be heard from inside.

  The final rectangle of light was cast on dark, soft earth. Frankie reckoned it was a flowerbed. Their feet sank almost to the ankles as they crossed it and came alongside the window. Sean ducked this time and went to the other side. Carefully, Frankie moved his head until he could look inside. A man sat in an easy chair, his right profile clearly visible. Beside him on a small circular table was a can of Guinness. He was smoking a cigarette and laughing. The sounds of a TV quiz show were audible. Frankie didn’t recognize him.

  Sean was looking in too. Then Frankie became aware of Sean turning to stare at him. He glanced across and realized from his face that the boy knew something. Frankie quickly put his finger to his lips and signalled Sean to crouch again and come toward him. When he was by his side, Frankie took his arm and pulled him a few yards further away from the window. ‘Do you know him?’ he whispered.

  ‘It’s Pat Pusey. I think he might be the one who killed me da.’

  Frankie leant forward until his face was close to Sean’s. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked.

  Sean nodded. Frankie thought he looked shocked. ‘Are you sure?’

  He nodded again. Frankie took his hand and led him away, crouching past the first two windows they’d looked in. Staying close to the walls, they made their way round to the front of the house. Frankie wanted to stop there and take stock but the moon shone directly on them, and he kept moving until they’d rounded the corner back into deep shadow. He stopped and turned, squatted and pulled Sean to hunker down too. ‘Are you alright? Did that spook you, seeing Pusey?’

  ‘A bit, but I’m grand now.’

  Frankie smiled and patted his shoulder. ‘Good man! Are you fit to have a look round the back of the house w
ith me before we leave?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Frankie led again. This side of the house was in darkness. He stopped at the corner and peered round it. He saw some faint lights on a square building, above what looked like stable doors. Shoulder still touching the wall, he crept toward the building, stopping opposite it about twenty feet away. Stables. Both half-doors closed. Frankie and Sean stood silent for a few moments. There was the sound of a shod hoof on concrete. Frankie looked down at Sean. The boy’s eyes were wide again, as they’d been when he’d seen Pusey through the window. ‘Let’s go,’ Frankie whispered, and they went across to the box doors. There were five of them, all with the bolt across but none padlocked.

  Frankie gently took hold of the galvanized steel bolt and worked it to the left. It squeaked. He stopped. He leant on the upper door to take the pressure off the hasp. The bolt slid smoothly all the way across, and the door opened. He heard movement inside the box, then a head loomed out of the darkness toward him and he stepped back in fright. The head came across the door and the big horse looked at him inquisitively, ears pricked. Frankie had seen many pictures of Angel Gabriel in the Cassidy house; quite a few were head and neck shots as the horse had that distinctive ‘Look of Eagles’ about him, as Graham Cassidy had said. He reached to stroke the long nose. He couldn’t be dead certain but he’d have had a decent wager that this was the horse. There was a strong temptation to use the flashlight, just for a few seconds, to shine it inside and see if the rest of him looked like Angel Gabriel.

  He decided not to. Instead, he whispered, ‘Gabby!’ The horse’s ears flicked toward him, but he couldn’t be sure if it was a reaction to the name or just the sound. But it made him smile. He looked at Sean and he smiled too, slowly in a way that endeared him to Frankie.

  Frankie loosed the bolt on the door to the horse’s left; the box was empty. He looked in the one in the right, had to lean over and it took a while for his eyes to adjust to the almost complete darkness. There was a horse there, against the back wall. He opened two remaining boxes. Empty. He shut them all again, having to push gently at the big horse’s nose to move his head back into the box.