The Life You Left

by Carmel Harrington

  ‘It must be awful for you.’ James replied, aghast at the life this poor woman was living.

  ‘It’s not the marriage I envisaged.’ Marie replied bitterly. ‘Now unless you have anything else you want me to answer, I’d better get home. He’ll be looking for his dinner at six.’

  ‘Listen, Marie. I’d rather you didn’t repeat any of this conversation to your husband right now. It’s a confidential matter as you can appreciate I’m sure.’

  ‘Don’t worry, James, I’m not going to mention this to him. I don’t want more of this.’ She finished, pointing to her head.

  ‘Let me get you help.’ James begged her. ‘There are places that can help you, take you in. I’ll go with you to get your things. I’ll bring you to a safe house.’

  She shook her head. ‘No I can’t do that. I married him and I’m going to try and work this out.’

  James handed Marie his card. ‘Here’s my number. Keep it. If you need anything, ever, just call me. And if you think of anything that might help us with our investigation, give me a call too. No matter how small it might seem to you, it might be of help to us. Maybe you might remember something about Mal’s movements around the time of Rachel’s murder. Like if there was anything unusual to report about him coming home late at night, acting strangely.’

  Marie shoved the card into her handbag. ‘I’ve got to go.’ She jumped out of the car and ran to her own.

  James sat watching until she drove away. He felt like he had gotten nowhere and everywhere both at the same time. He picked up the phone to call Sarah and fill her in.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Mammy, why do I have to wear Tommy’s stinky old costume from last year?’ Katie whined. ‘It’s not fair. Jessie got a new costume and I’m going to look stupid wearing Tommy’s. Everyone will know.’

  ‘No they won’t.’ Sarah replied calmly. ‘I’m sorry we didn’t get any new costumes. I told you I’d make you a cat costume but you said no to that. Wearing Tommy’s vampire costume from last year is your only other option. Come on, look in the mirror, you look fantastic. And by the time I do your face paint, you are going to look so scary!’

  ‘Ella’s wearing your old costume from when you were a baby, Katie.’ Tommy said to his little sister. ‘And you know there are lots of kids in school not getting new costumes.’

  ‘It’s ok for you; you look cool in Uncle James’s costume.’ Katie said to her brother.

  ‘Well you couldn’t be Sherlock Holmes, you’re a girl!’ Tommy shot back straight away. He was delighted with his gear. Uncle James had given him a Sherlock Holmes costume he had from years back. It was very cool actually and even had a pipe and hat.

  ‘Enough already about the costumes, please, I beg you!’ Sarah said to them both. ‘New costumes cost money and money doesn’t grow on trees, you know.’ Sarah cringed inwardly. She sounded just like her mother then. ‘We all have to make sacrifices for a little while until I get the money situation sorted.’

  ‘I know, Mammy. We’re in a session.’ Katie said solemnly. ‘Mr Brennan told us.’

  ‘A session?’ Sarah said looking a bit worried.

  ‘A recession, dumbo.’ Tommy said.

  ‘That’s what I said. A session.’ Katie replied throwing her eyes to heaven.

  Sarah smiled, listening to their banter, Ella watching her brother and sister intently, laughing away at them.

  ‘I have a recession joke.’ Tommy said to Katie. ‘Do you want to hear it?’

  ‘Yes, Tommy, tell me!’ Katie squealed.

  Tommy took a deep breath. ‘Money is so tight, 50 cent had to change his name to 10 cent!’ he said triumphantly.

  Sarah started to laugh. ‘That’s very funny, Tommy. You’re a funny guy!’

  ‘I don’t get it.’ Katie said crossly. ‘Who’s 50 cent?’

  ‘A singer. A rapper.’ Tommy explained.

  ‘Like wrapping paper?’ Katie said. ‘Wrapping paper with 50 cent on it? That’s silly, Tommy.’

  ‘I give up!’ Tommy said walking out of the room, shaking his head as Katie ran after him, all moans about their costumes forgotten for a minute.

  Soon they were all set and they left the house ready to go trick or treating. Sarah had been dreading this. Every year the tradition had been that Paul would bring the children out and she would stay at home getting food ready for their return – burgers and hotdogs. And of course she would be at home too to give sweets to other trick or treaters. Disaster was averted only when Nana Rita arrived to see the children dressed up and said she’d stay and answer the door to anyone who came. Katie was most upset at the thought of some of her friends calling and not getting their rightful sweets.

  She’d asked James to come with them but he was working, unfortunately. He’d felt really bad but she was going to have to start relying on herself a lot more. She couldn’t keep calling James to keep her company.

  In the end they had a great time going from house to house. Halloween had become such a huge occasion in Ireland now, most of the adults dressed up as well as the kids. Sarah herself had gotten into the spirit and gone as a witch. She’d just put on one of her black dresses, used liberal amounts of dark make-up and stuck an old witches hat of Katie’s on her head. A yard brush as her witches broom, with a small stuffed kitten of Ella’s glued to the end of the handle, completed the look. Not bad for a homemade costume, she’d thought as she’d gotten ready.

  They had a wobbly moment when they’d met a large group of kids, about ten of them in total. And they were accompanied by their Daddies – four of them together all dressed up. Sarah watched Tommy and Katie looking longingly at the children’s fathers and she cursed Paul in her head. Damn him and damn bloody Michelle. She’d called him earlier in the week and asked him to come and do Halloween with them. It was hard to make that call, but she was determined that they do right by their children wherever possible. He’d put her on hold and said he’d call Michelle to check with her. But apparently Michelle felt it was a very bad idea as it would give the children false hope that their Daddy was coming home. So for the children’s sake he wouldn’t come. She was so angry with him. I mean how long had he’d known this Michelle woman and she was already making decisions that affected their children? But what could she do? She thought it was ironic really. James had told Sarah about a colleague of his who was fighting his ex-girlfriend for access to see his daughter. He had to take her to court to try and ensure he got to see his daughter on a regular basis. And here was her husband, who couldn’t care less. She’d be taking him to court to make him see their children more often at this rate.

  After an hour of trick or treating the children were getting tired and were happy to go home to check their loot.

  ‘Let’s go see if Nana has eaten all of Ella’s chocolate buttons!’ Sarah said to them jokingly.

  They all laughed and made their way home.

  Soon they were all sitting around the kitchen table pouring the contents of their pumpkin cauldron bags out. There were jellies, chocolate, marshmallows, and bars of every description tumbling out.

  ‘Whoa now, kids. Just one thing each until we have our tea. Then you can knock yourselves out!’ Sarah said.

  Sarah walked into the kitchen where Rita was busy cooking the burgers and sausages.

  ‘Thanks, Rita. You’re a star.’ She said gratefully.

  ‘We’re almost done.’ Rita replied brushing off the thanks. ‘Chips are in the oven, five more minutes and they’ll be finished. Ella went down about fifteen minutes ago. She was all done in, poor pet.’

  ‘The excitement wears her out.’ Sarah said smiling. ‘She loves watching the kids playing and tonight was great fun for her, watching everyone get dressed up. She looked adorable in her pumpkin outfit, didn’t she?’

  ‘She did, the angel.’ Rita replied. ‘She’s the image of Tommy.’

  Sarah nodded. And the image of Paul too, they were both thinking.

  ‘He should be here, Sarah.’ Rita said. ‘I�
��m disgusted with him. I called him and said as much.’

  Sarah walked over to her mother-in-law. ‘Don’t be getting yourself worked up. I appreciate you sticking up for us like that, I truly do. But he’s your son; it must be difficult for you. I don’t want you to feel stuck in the middle of all this.’

  ‘He might be my son, but you’re my daughter as well, as far as I’m concerned.’ Rita replied.

  Sarah walked over and gave the old woman a kiss on her cheek.

  ‘And you’ve been more of a mother to me than my own.’ She replied quietly. They gave each other a quick hug until a funny smell made them look around.

  ‘Oh feck, my onions are burning!’ Rita said laughing.

  Within minutes they were all happily munching their burgers, onions caramelised beautifully! Ketchup was dribbling down Katie’s chin.

  ‘I can’t see what’s fake blood and what’s ketchup anymore!’ Sarah said to her daughter, laughing.

  ‘I know a vampire joke.’ Tommy said to his family. ‘Want to hear it?’

  ‘As long as it’s better than the session joke.’ Katie said seriously.

  ‘Session?’ Rita enquired.

  ‘I’ll explain later!’ Sarah answered. They weren’t going down that road again.

  ‘Ok, Tommy. Go for it, funny boy. What’s your vampire joke?’

  ‘What did the ghost say to the vampire when he said goodbye?’ Tommy said with a big grin.

  He waited for everyone to answer, ‘I don’t know. What did the ghost say?’

  Pausing dramatically for effect, Tommy shouted ‘So long, suckers!’

  They all laughed together. ‘That’s a good one, Tommy.’ Katie gave her vote of approval.

  Sarah glanced at the empty seat beside her. Paul’s spot. Funny how families end up always sitting in the same position at the table for every meal. Or was that just her family? So far, in what was an unspoken agreement amongst them all, everyone avoided his seat. She wondered where he was right this minute. He wasn’t trick or treating that’s for sure. She figured he would be in a swanky wine bar somewhere in London, eating Tapas, laughing, not a care in the world.

  ‘Penny for them?’ Rita asked gently.

  ‘Oh you can guess. I’m thinking that right now his view is a hell of a lot different than ours is here.’ Sarah nodded to their kitchen window, where all you could see was hills and trees.

  ‘I daresay you are right.’ Rita acknowledged. ‘But I know one thing for sure. He’s missing out on one of the most spectacular views there is – that of his children.’ Rita stood up to gather the plates up, but walked over to her daughter-in-law first and kissed her forehead tenderly.

  ‘You are doing a great job pet. And from where I’m standing, you’re the lucky one. He doesn’t know what he’s missing, but he will do one day. He’ll realise, I promise you and he’ll be so sorry.’

  Sarah reached up and hugged Rita tightly, whispering her thanks.

  Chapter Seventeen

  James was expecting the bank and phone records of Mal Wickham emailed to him any minute. And yes, here they were. He already had Rachel Finch’s. Sometimes it paid to have contacts.

  Opening the first attachment he saw Mal’s bank statement.

  ‘Let’s see what you’ve been up to, Mr Wickham.’ He said to himself. It was amazing the amount you could find out about somebody by looking through their records. Where was he spending his money? Would the bank statement give any clue as to where Mal had been on the day Rachel was murdered? As if he didn’t know. He just needed the proof.

  He scanned through the transactions and stopped suddenly when he saw an entry for an online dating company. Wickham had a monthly subscription it seemed. Ok, that’s not a bookable offence, but interesting all the same. It was another insight into his character. The word Sleaze with a capital ‘S’ sprung to mind. Poor Marie, she’d no idea who she was married to at all. Looking through the statement line by line, he saw a trend developing. Every couple of nights he was taking out cash, but, the interesting thing was, the cash machines were all in Dublin. And fair enough, he lived quite rural in Rosslare, but James was pretty sure that there were bank links nearer to him than 120 kms up the N11. Dublin was a fair old trek just to get some cash. So that’s where he was disappearing to every night. And to back this up, he could see several payments to various petrol stations along the N11. Expensive thing, dating, when you have to commute to Dublin from Wexford every day, James thought. Wonder who the lucky lady is? Or plural, ladies. Goodness knew how many he had on the go.

  ‘Ok, now let’s go back further,’ he thought, hitting the ‘older entries’ button on the statement. He wanted to see what Wickham was up to on the day of Rachel’s murder. Sarah said she saw them in a restaurant in her dream. Would it be too much to hope for that he paid for that restaurant by one of his credit or debit cards? Come on, Wickham; do me a favour, James thought. No such luck. But hang on one minute, bingo, here we go; a lead worth following. Things were looking up suddenly. Mal had withdrawn money from a bank machine in Gorey town at 3pm on the day Rachel was murdered. Now as he lived in Rosslare, Gorey was just a tad out of his way. Just what was he doing there he wondered? Was that where he met Rachel?

  If he could find a way to link Rachel and Mal together he could give that to Roger and let the Gardaí take over.

  He then looked through the phone records and there was nothing in the statement that jumped out at him. One thing for sure was the fact that he wasn’t using this phone to call Rachel. But logically, being a married man, he’d not want to use this phone to call his mistress. Marie might get suspicious and check his phone for texts. He had to have another phone, he was sure of it. The only problem was if he had a phone that was pay as you go, he could have taken it out under any name and it would be harder to trace. Not impossible but it would take a little bit of time.

  Think, James. Think. There was always another angle. He needed that missing phone number and quickly. He looked at the bank statements again and then it hit him. If he was doing speed dating and online dating, he’d have to give a contact number to the companies involved. He googled the speed dating company listed in his direct debit and soon was speaking to its owner. It didn’t take long for James to persuade him that it was in his interest to pass on the phone details of Malcolm Wickham, in order to avoid having a search warrant produced and the messy newspaper coverage that would surely follow. As soon as you mentioned the word Detective James Codd, he found most people assumed he was in the Gardaí and started to own up to all sorts of stuff. And sure enough he had confirmation that the number listed for Mal Wickham was a different number. Ok, it was time to get the phone records for this new number. He rang his contact and asked for them to be emailed to him as soon as possible.

  A few hours later they arrived. To his delight he discovered two numbers that popped up on a regular basis. He pulled open the details he had on file on Rachel, and cross referenced her home number and her mobile. Bingo, again – James practically punched the air, he felt on fire. One of them was Rachel Finch’s. Mal was calling her on a regular basis right up to the day she died. In fact he called her the morning of her death on his mobile. The call lasted three minutes. The second number was one he didn’t recognise. He checked the phone records and the mobile belonged to a Denise Young. He was calling her daily for the past week. So she was the new girl on the scene by the looks of things.

  He now had something to go to Roger with. This should be enough to bring him in for questioning, at the very least. They finally had proof that showed Rachel and Mal had a relationship. And who was to say that the new girl Denise wasn’t next on his list? He murdered once, he could do it again. Never mind his poor wife Marie, who already was a victim of physical and mental abuse.

  He thought about ringing Roger straight away but then reconsidered. He didn’t want to leave anything to chance; when they brought him in he wanted them armed with enough evidence to charge him. So he decided it was worth checking out
that bank machine. See if the bank had any cameras over the machine. And also if he could work out where they both were that night and how Rachel ended up on Ballyaislinn beach. So many questions still.

  James felt he was getting close to a breakthrough. He drove to Gorey and parked the car on the main street. Within a few minutes he had found the bank machine that Mal had used. And yes, there was a camera looking down onto the machine. He walked into the bank and requested to see the manager flashing his ID again. He was soon ushered into the bank manager’s office. He explained he was involved in a homicide investigation and judging by how wide the bank manager’s eyes had gotten, he was impressed. ‘So you see, I’d really like to see your video footage for October 3rd please?’

  ‘You’re out of luck, Detective Codd.’ The bank manager said. ‘We only keep our video footage for one month, unless there’s an exception. I’ll check for you, but unless something happened on that day, we’ll have reused the tape by now.’

  ‘It’s only November 3rd for goodness sake!’

  ‘I know that.’ He replied. ‘We started reusing the tapes yesterday on the 1st. Do the same every month. We use the first on the first of the next month, the second on the second, so on and so forth. Unless there’s an exception, then we put in a new one today.’

  ‘Yes, yes, so you said.’ James answered irritated. This was just his bloody luck. Had he come yesterday he’d have been fine. ‘Can you go check?’

  ‘Right away.’ The bank manager said picking up the phone to call his assistant in.

  ‘What tape did you put in the video yesterday morning?’

  She looked worried. ‘Last month’s one. Why, is something wrong? There was no note of anything wrong for October 3rd.’