The Whole of the Moon

by Kevin McManus

  “You were lucky you didn't do yourself worse harm,” Jim Mulcahy said. He walked towards a chair beside the fireplace. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

  “Sure, please, sit down,” Sarah replied.

  He unbuttoned his coat as he sat down. “The last time I called here, you told me there was another man living here called Darragh Lonigan.”

  “That's right.” Sarah didn't say much. Conor thought she probably wanted to avoid answering any awkward questions about Darragh's whereabouts.

  “Well, we are trying to locate him. As you know, we are still carrying out our investigations into the violent and tragic death of Tom Kearns. Recently we found a burnt-out car, the remains of a blue Toyota Starlet, beside an abandoned quarry near Rathalgin. This may or may not be linked to the aforementioned Tom Kearns incident. However, as you might understand, we are trying to follow any possible leads and if we could talk to Mr Lonigan, we could rule out that particular line of enquiry. Is he at work? Is he due back shortly? Do you know where we could locate him?”

  Sarah clearly felt awkward and uncomfortable, as though she didn't know what to tell the detective.

  “I'm sorry, I don't know where he is,” she muttered.

  Detective Mulcahy was silent and stared over at Sarah. Then he said, “Sarah, according to information we have received, Mr Lonigan and yourself have been cohabiting here for the last two years. We have been told that you are a couple. He is your long-term … boyfriend. Surely you must have some idea where he is and when he is likely to come back.”

  “I'm sorry, I don't know where he is,” Sarah repeated.

  Conor felt sorry for Sarah. He could see the way the questioning was going and he felt ashamed that he knew the truth and had not told her.

  Detective Mulcahy then turned to Conor, sensing that he was becoming uncomfortable. “Conor, you are a friend of Sarah's, as you told me earlier. Do you know Darragh well?”

  “Yes, the three of us went to college together. We've been close friends for many years. I've known Darragh since we were kids,” Conor replied nervously.

  The detective leaned forward in his chair. “So I take it you have visited this house on a number of occasions.”

  “I have only visited the house here two or three times over the last two weeks since I came home for holidays,” Conor said, looking over at Sarah.

  “Perhaps you can help me then, Conor. What kind of car does Darragh drive? Is it perhaps a blue Toyota Starlet? A five-door hatchback?” Detective Mulcahy asked.

  Conor paused for a moment. Had he any choice now but to disclose information that would lead the detective fairly rapidly to an obvious conclusion, or should he just tell him what Darragh had confessed to him and avoid all the unnecessary bullshit?

  Jim Mulcahy was becoming impatient. “Conor, did your friend Darragh Lonigan drive a blue Toyota Starlet?”

  “Yes, yes he did.”

  “And where is that car now? Have you seen it lately?”

  “No, I haven't seen it in a few days.”

  “When did you last see the car? Conor, please try to be as specific and accurate as you can.”

  Suddenly Sarah interjected. “Where is all this going? How do you know it was Darragh's Toyota? It could have been anybody's; it's a fairly common make of car.”

  “So, Sarah, getting back to you then—when is the last time you saw Darragh driving the Toyota?”

  “I'm not sure. Maybe just before Christmas Day. He was driving mine for a few days over the holidays; he said his car was giving him trouble. I think there was a massive dinge on it. He said he was going to get it fixed or scrap it and buy another one. Darragh was always buying cheap bangers of cars and replacing them every six months or so. It was hard to keep track of what he was driving.”

  The detective seemed to realise he was getting somewhere. “Would it be possible that he began talking about getting rid of the Toyota around about the twenty-second of December and that you might have noticed the large ding on it around about the same time?”

  “Yes, I suppose so. Hold on, are you implying that Darragh was responsible for the hit and run? Oh God, that can't be true. No way.” Sarah was becoming hysterical.

  Conor stood up. “Can't you leave her? Can't you see she is upset?”

  Jim Mulcahy sat back in his chair. “Look, I'm sorry. I'm just trying to avoid giving yourself and Sarah as much grief as possible. I could have brought you both to the local station, but I wanted to spare you from that stress for the moment.”

  Conor got Sarah, the detective and himself a cup of coffee each and they sat quietly for a few minutes. Jim Mulcahy was the first to break the silence.

  “Look, we know already that the burnt-out Toyota starlet found near Rathalgin quite possibly belongs to Darragh Lonigan. It was well burnt-out and the number plates were removed. We couldn't find any chassis numbers or serial numbers anywhere on the body. They must have been filed down or destroyed by the blaze. Whoever did the work was determined the car wouldn't be traced back to them. However, we did discover only yesterday, in the ditch in the corner of the field where the car was burnt-out, a ripped-up ESB bill with Darragh's name and this address on it. Perhaps he ripped it up himself and disposed of it in the ditch. Maybe it was under a car seat and he forgot to remove it before torching the car and it blew out the door of that car at some point. Now, perhaps the ESB bill has no link with the car, but why would a utility bill belonging to Darragh be found in a field over twenty miles from here? Possibly he tossed it out his car window at some stage as he drove by that area.

  “Now, obviously it's not a great piece of evidence. It might mean nothing. But it's all a bit too coincidental. A blue Toyota Starlet is burned out in a field. An ESB bill is found close by belonging to Darragh. He was driving a blue Toyota Starlet up until the time the car was found burnt-out. To add to that, you have just told me, Sarah, that you noticed that the car was damaged sometime after the twenty-first of December. It looked to you like the car collided with something, maybe a ditch? Look, Sarah, you can see how this is adding up.

  “We need to talk to Darragh. It's possible that he had a crash with the car and he had nothing to do with the hit and run incident. We just need to interview him to see if we can rule out this particular line of enquiry. You told me earlier you don't know where he is, Sarah. Is that true? Look, think about it; I'm going outside for a few minutes to talk to my colleagues.”

  Jim Mulcahy opened the kitchen door and went outside. He got into the Garda car and talked to another detective in the backseat of the car and two uniformed Gardai in the front seats.

  Sarah looked over at Conor. “Do you think there is any link between Darragh and the hit-and-run, the killing of that poor man, Tom Kearns?”

  Conor did not know what to say. Should he tell her the truth? He felt he couldn't keep in the secret anymore. He sat there, silently and nervously staring out the window.

  “Conor. Conor, will you say something? What do you think, or are you as shocked and stunned as I am?”

  “I don't know, Sarah. I don't know what to say.” Conor couldn't hold onto the heavy burden any longer. “I think it's true. I think it's possible.”

  Sarah looked at him, puzzled. “How can you be so sure, Conor? Do you know something more about this? Did he tell you about what happened?”

  “Yes, yes,” Conor whispered weakly. “He told me.”

  “He told you what? What did he tell you? When did he tell you?” Sarah was getting hysterical again.

  “He told me early yesterday morning in Galway. I was going to tell you, but I couldn't seem to find the right words or the right time. I felt like I was betraying him. Oh God, I don't know what I felt.”

  “He rang me New Year's Eve around the same time you rang. He told me he was in Galway City and he asked me to come over and meet him on New Year's Day. I went over and we had a good bit to drink. In the bar of the hotel we were staying in, he confessed to me that he had knocked down Tom Kearns and driven o
ff and left him dying on the road.

  “Look, I wanted to tell you, to tell somebody. I'm sorry. I was going to tell you this morning, or afternoon, whatever bloody time it is. I told Darragh to give himself up to the local Garda station in Galway city. He promised me that he would the next morning, but when I got up, he had checked out of the hotel and was gone. That's as much as I know, Sarah.”

  Sarah starting crying. Conor could hear her mumbling to herself, “Oh Darragh, oh Darragh. Why, why? How could he do that? I hate you for how you mistreated me and lied to me so many times and I hate you for leaving that poor man to die, but I loved you, Darragh. I fuckin' loved you so much for so long and now your life is ruined.”

  Sarah was crying for herself and for Darragh. Her beautiful young face appeared to age in those short few minutes. Conor gave her a hanky and she wiped her eyes and diverted them towards him. “You will have to tell the detective what you just told me, Conor.”

  “Yes, yes. I suppose I have to,” Conor replied.

  There was a knock on the door. Conor got up from his chair and let Detective Mulcahy in. This time, he was accompanied by a young uniformed Guard. They both sat at the table. The young Garda took out a notebook and prepared himself to record details.

  Jim Mulcahy noticed that Sarah had been crying. “Are you okay, Sarah? Is there anything wrong? You look upset. I'm sorry if you find all of this distressing.”

  “I'm fine. I'm okay.”

  “Now Sarah, I will try to get through this quickly. Is there anything more you can tell me? I appreciate your cooperation so far. You have been very helpful. I understand how hard this is on you. I know yourself and Darragh are very close.”

  Conor nervously interrupted. “There is something I need to tell you, Mr Mulcahy.” He retold the events surrounding Darragh's confession to him in Galway.

  Jim Mulcahy looked at the young Garda to check that he was recording the information. He then turned to Conor and in an angry outburst, he shouted, “You have known this information for over twenty-four hours. Why did you not inform the Gardai before this?”

  “As I said, Darragh had promised me he would go to the Gardai himself yesterday morning. I had no idea when I left Galway yesterday whether he had given himself up or not. I assumed he had until last night.”

  “What happened last night?” Jim Mulcahy asked.

  Conor was silent. He looked over at Sarah and she nodded at him as if wanting him to tell the truth about what had happened.

  “He … he came back here last night or early this morning. I suppose it was around one AM. Myself and Sarah were sharing a bed. He thought that something was going on between us and he went crazy and started smashing up the bedroom. He left after I suppose fifteen minutes when Sarah told him to leave.”

  “I see. Is that how you got those bruises on your face?” the detective asked.

  “Yea,” replied Conor.

  “So where do you think Darragh is now? Where would he have stayed when he left here last night?”

  “I'm really not sure,” Sarah replied. “He might have driven to Strandhill in Sligo to stay with his sister Anne, or he has friends living a few miles up the road in Shemore, Eoin and Oliver Casey. He stayed over with them sometimes; they were drinking buddies. Maybe he stayed in one of the properties belonging to his family. His mother owns property all over the place. She has flats in Sligo Town and student houses in Cartron. I think she has a house in Lismore as well. Darragh might have had keys for any of them.”

  “You said his sister was called Anne. Have you a phone number for her?” Jim Mulcahy asked.

  “Yea, I have it somewhere,” Sarah said as she got up to root about in a cupboard.

  “Oh, and also, have you any photographs? Recent ones of Darragh, please. It would really help.”

  “Okay,” Sarah said. “I'll see what I can find.”

  After searching for about fifteen minutes, Sarah found in a drawer a notebook that contained phone numbers of family members and friends. She also found a number of photographs of Darragh. Some of them were photos of the two of them taken on a holiday in Edinburgh the previous summer.

  Conor watched as she stared at the photos for a few minutes, tears in her eyes. She also found Darragh's passport. She handed the items to Detective Mulcahy.

  “Thanks very much, Sarah. Again, you have been most cooperative. And thanks to you as well, Conor, for your information, even if it was a little late forthcoming.”

  “What happens now?” Sarah asked.

  “Well, we will have to try to locate Darragh and when we find him, bring him in for questioning and see what happens from there. We will need both of you to come to a Garda station in the near future so we can fill out official details on the report. I think it's wise if we leave a Garda car in close proximity in case Darragh decides to return here. I hope that is okay.”

  “Yes, that's fine,” Sarah replied.

  “Okay, that's it. As I said, there will be a Garda car outside your home, so if you want to contact me, just tell the lads in the patrol car and they can radio me.”

  When the detective and the young Guard had left, Sarah and Conor sat in silence for a few minutes before Conor asked, “Do you want me to stay with you for a while? I don't think you should be on your own.”

  “Yea, please, I could do with the company. Do you want me to drive you in to Ballinastrad to collect a few things, if you want to stay over?” Sarah asked.

  “That would be good. I could do with a shower to freshen up and a change of clothes.”

  After a quick wash, Sarah drove her Ford Mondeo out of the front entrance of the yard and headed towards Ballinastrad. A Garda patrol car was parked at a laneway facing the house. It was twenty past three on a cold, dark and damp January Day.

  Chapter XIII

  Into the Mystic

  Wednesday, 4th January 1989

  Sarah and Conor had spent much of the evening tidying the bedroom from the damage that was caused in the early hours of the previous morning. Both of them had tried to function as best they could, but as much as they tried, their thoughts kept returning to Darragh and his whereabouts.

  After rising in the early morning, unable to sleep, they decided to go for a walk. A Garda car remained just outside the house and observed them as they travelled down the road.

  It was a bright, clear and frosty morning. The sky was a vibrant blue overhead. It was cold, but the air felt fresh and clean. As Sarah and Conor walked over the hills of Rossbeg, there was a perfect view of the calm waters of Lough Oughter below. Despite the cold conditions, small rowing boats were dotted around the waters. Further on in the distance, a network of lanes and roads intertwined like a web and the towns and villages of Rathalgin, Ballinastrad, and Castlederry could be seen.

  The hills of Rossbeg were the highest points in the parish and from here, a person felt like an old Celtic chieftain surveying his lands. It was certainly a mystical place, with an ancient Neolithic Portal Dolmen, a Bronze Age stone circle and the remains of a Crannog in the centre of Lough Oughter. Sarah pointed some of the landmarks out to Conor as they strolled. He could see why Sarah and Darragh had chosen to live there. It was a beautiful and captivating place on a bright, clear day.

  Conor remembered coming up to the Rossbeg Hills with Darragh and Darragh's father when they were kids. He also remembered coming to the ringfort on the land beside Darragh and Sarah's cottage. It was tradition to have a picnic there on every Easter Monday. All the kids from the area would congregate in the ringfort and light a bonfire. He wasn't sure the significance of that particular day; supposedly it was a tradition that went on for hundreds of years previous.

  All these memories made him wonder if Darragh was someplace below them in the villages or houses or if he had now departed many miles away to another part of the country. Maybe he had crossed over to Britain. Maybe the Guards had located him already.

  After the walk, Sarah and Conor returned to the house. They felt a bit better after getti
ng some fresh air. They cooked a meal and as they sat at the table, Sarah noticed the black coat that belonged to Darragh hanging on the back of the chair next to the fire.

  “How long has that coat been there?” she asked.

  “That has been there since yesterday, I think. It was on the floor behind the chair yesterday evening. I think I remember picking it up and placing it on the back of the chair when we were tidying up.”

  There were coats and other clothes of Darragh's lying all around the kitchen area. Sarah was in no way a domestic goddess and did not seem too interested in keeping the living area particularly tidy.

  “That's the coat Darragh was wearing for the last week or so. I think he bought it in a second-hand clothes shop in Sligo a few weeks before Christmas.”

  Sarah went over and picked up the coat and searched through the pockets. She found a box of matches and a pack of cigarettes in one pocket and in the other inside pocket, a piece of note paper. Conor could see that it was addressed to her.

  She read the note slowly. The handwriting was Darragh's typical scrawl but his words caused her to burst into tears. She kept reading the final lines out loud over and over again.

  “I can't live without you. I would rather be dead than lose you. Sarah, you are my life. Without you, life is pointless.”

  Conor went over to her and held her.

  “Oh God, Conor, what does this mean? Is it a suicide note? What does it mean?” she screamed hysterically.

  Conor tried his best to console her and tried to convince her that Darragh would never take that way out. However, as he said it, in his own mind, he thought it was a possibility. Maybe Darragh felt he had nothing now to live for. He had lost his girlfriend and his best friend and he knew that once he was caught by the Gardai or if he gave himself up, his life was as good as over anyway.

  The other explanation for the note was that it was just a sick attempt by Darragh to try to win Sarah back. He had often convinced Sarah to take him back in the past by attempting similar stunts. On one occasion when they lived in Galway, Sarah had discovered that Darragh had been unfaithful to her and broken it off with him. He had threatened to jump into the sea in Salthill and drown himself unless she would take him back. It had worked.