‘Yes, Joe?’
‘You’ll give us a few minutes? Make sure we’re not disturbed? And we could do with a couple of glasses of water.’
‘Right you are.’
Joe Geraghty invited Bridget to sit at the table. He sat on the other side.
‘I hope you don’t mind me taking notes now, Bridget,’ he said, opening an A4 pad. ‘Only, my memory …’
‘Of course not.’
‘I’m sorry to have to. It takes away from the spontaneity. I’d have preferred for the two of us just to have a little chat now. But I need to be precise, you’ll understand.’
‘It’s all right.’
He smiled. ‘You’ll know how seriously we all take what happened to Francis?’
‘Yes.’
‘We’re determined to get to the bottom of it. I don’t normally involve myself personally in this sort of thing any more, but I’m making an exception here.’ He consulted his notes. ‘Well, then. It may be something and nothing when it comes down to it. It’s obviously not something and nothing for poor Francis, locked away over there, but what I mean is that it might all be bad luck. An innocent mistake somewhere along the line. A slip of the tongue. A momentary lapse. Something like that.’
He paused. He had been looking at her steadily the whole time.
‘These things happen. But on the other hand, if there’s something more sinister at the heart of this, we have to deal with it. I’m sure you agree.’
‘I’m sure I do, Joe.’
‘So, shall we get down to it?’ he said.
There was a moment of silence as he took two further sheets from his leather folio and examined them. He looked up at her.
‘These here are Kenny’s notes. We have to be quite meticulous. We want no miscarriages of justice here. We’ll leave that to the Brits.’ He smiled grimly. ‘Now then,’ he went on, and began the process of running through each sentence of Kenny’s report, looking quizzically before asking her to confirm, refute or elaborate. She could almost believe him to be a kindly old judge, with his grey hair and watery eyes.
For the first time she noticed a fine grandfather clock in the corner of the room. The afternoon and her life were ticking away quietly in this unseen, comfortable corner of the world.
The old truisms are true, Sarah had said. We humans are quite simple when it comes down to it. We lie through our mouths and betray ourselves elsewhere. Generally we can control the facial muscles and expression to support the deception. The further away from the head, the more difficult it becomes. Watch out for tapping feet. Keep your hands still, preferably in your lap. Don’t be afraid of seeming nervous. What else would you be?
Bridget had never thought it would come to this, even though, since Sarah had been in her life, her every waking moment had been suffused with an underlying, suffocating fear.
Joe Geraghty proceeded at his own stately pace, unhurried and determinedly inscrutable apart from the occasional raised eyebrow or intake of breath calculated, Bridget guessed, for effect.
Finally the hour approached six. Geraghty sighed with apparent contentment and smiled. ‘Well, Bridget,’ he said. ‘I think we’ve covered all the ground. You’ve been very helpful.’
‘Thank you.’
‘No, no. It’s me who should be thanking you. Very useful. Much food for thought. You’ve a very good memory. Very comprehensive and detailed. I think I’ve as much from you as I’m likely to need. Francis is lucky to have you for a wife, Bridget. You’ve stood by him all these years. It can’t have been easy. And now this.’
‘It’s not been so bad.’
‘You’re too modest, Bridget. I know what you must have sacrificed. You never had children, you and Francis.’
‘No.’
‘Any particular reason?’
‘I’d rather not say.’
He seemed to think for a moment. ‘Aye. Well, what goes on between husband and wife in that regard is private, I suppose. Shall we be getting Kenny to fetch you back home now?’
‘Yes please. If you’re sure …’
‘On the other hand, I wouldn’t want to have to trouble you another time. Kenny and I are off tonight doing a few more enquiries. If you’d be happy to stay over here we’ll be back in the morning. There may just be one or two extra questions. Mrs Lomax keeps house and she’ll look after you.’
‘I think I’d rather just go home, Joe. You can call me any time for a follow-up.’
‘That’s very kind of you. Only it’d be easier for me if you’d stay on here. I’m awful busy and I’d like to wrap this up as soon as I can. It shouldn’t take long tomorrow. An hour or so maybe. Then you’ll be free to go. Free as a bird. You don’t mind?’
‘Of course not. But I have none of my things with me.’
‘I’m sure Mrs Lomax can sort you out with anything you need. She’ll cook you a tasty dinner too, I can vouch for that. That’s all right, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, Joe. Of course it is.’
‘Good girl. That’s wonderful. I must be getting off. See you tomorrow morning.’
They sipped at their Scotch.
‘So,’ said Kenny, ‘do we wheel in the Donegal Polygraph?’
‘There’s no place for levity here, Kenny. It’s a serious business we’re about.’
Jimmy Lafferty and his team had been trained assiduously by Joe in the art of extracting confessions from those unwilling to part with them. They had dealt with Liam before Joe had applied the coup de grâce.
‘I know, Kenny,’ continued Joe. ‘Gallows humour. It’s been a long day. It’s a big step to call Jimmy and his boys in. Are they prepared?’
‘Ready and waiting. I just need to drive her over there.’
‘Do they know who they’re dealing with?’
‘No.’
‘And they could be stood down?’
‘They know the score.’
‘All right, then. What do you make of young Bridget?’
‘Difficult to call. Nothing she’s said jars with anything else we’ve heard. But you never know.’
‘That’s true enough. Do you think she knows anything about the phone?’
‘I shouldn’t think so.’
‘Hmm. I may ask her. What do you think that’s all about anyway, the phone?’
‘No idea. Who could he have been calling?’
‘That’s the question.’
‘The call was made to an Eircell number. Bought from a backstreet shop in Limerick. No idea who bought it.’
‘Could it have been Mikey who made the call?’
‘No. Francis said he had the phone the whole time.’
‘His operational phone, and all. Have we asked him about the call?’
‘No. Could he have been calling the Guards?’
‘And just how would that work, Kenny? I don’t think so. But I may just see what Bridget has to say about it. What about Stevie Shaw’s woman going round there?’
‘Bridget says she was in the bedroom, upset.’
‘Yes?’
‘I can’t say she wasn’t there.’
‘Aye. It’s plausible enough. Something and nothing, I suppose. Do you have a gut feeling?’
‘No. Do you?’
‘That’s the thing. I usually do and I’m usually right. But not this time. So what should we do?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘If there’s a tout somewhere we have to find the bastard. So?’
‘Pull her in and see what she says? Otherwise we’ll always be wondering.’
‘There is that,’ said Joe. ‘But where would that get us? If Jimmy and the boys are on the case she’ll either say what she thinks they want to hear or deny everything. Either way we’re no further forward. If she confesses we can’t be sure and if she doesn’t we’ll still suspect her. It’s like throwing a witch in the river.’
‘She might tell them things we can verify.’
‘She might at that. But whatever, it’s a death sentence for her. If we had
evidence, even a little, I wouldn’t mind. But just at the moment, with these talks and all … I’m just not sure. I think I’m just going to have to play it by ear. See how it goes tomorrow. If I get the sense, then we’ll call the boys in.’
‘Do you think it could be her, Joe?’
‘No, not really. But you never know. Those English bastards. The thing is, we have to find someone for this. If we don’t it’ll be difficult to carry everybody with us. The next few years’ll be difficult enough anyway. If we can’t make head nor tail of it, then Bridget may have to do. She’s not from a Republican family, which says something. She’s been married to Francis all those years, but can we trust her loyalties? We may just need to shake the tree. Stir the pot. Probably not Jimmy and the boys just yet. But we’ll keep the pressure on her. See what happens. Keep the boys close, on standby.’
‘Well, then, Bridget. How did you sleep?’
‘Not too bad, Joe.’
‘That’s good. And what did you do last evening?’
‘Mrs Lomax cooked us a nice meal and we watched television.’
‘A nice relaxing evening in watching TV. What could be more pleasant? Sadly, Kenny and I were burning the midnight oil.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
‘No, it’s all right. I want to sort this out. It’s important to me. Now, where were we? Ah yes. What do you do when Francis is away, Bridget?’
‘Do? Nothing.’
‘You must do something.’
‘Just normal stuff. I do me shopping and cleaning, listen to the radio, watch TV, read me book. Same as when Francis is around.’
‘Nothing else? It must be lonely out there.’
‘No. I’m used to it now. I like me own company.’
‘No friends, then?’
‘No. Apart from Anne-Marie, Cathy, Patricia and them.’
‘And your parents – they don’t exactly approve of Francis, do they?’
‘They’re all right with him.’
‘They don’t like us, though, do they? They’re not fond of the Provos, are they?’
‘They’re not that interested in politics, that’s all.’
‘I’d have thought that where you come from you have to be political. Occupied by the colonial power, not five miles from the so-called Free State. But it’s up to them, I suppose. All I’m interested in is whether they’d talk out of turn.’
‘They wouldn’t. Anyway, they don’t know anything about Francis. Less than me. I don’t tell them anything.’
‘I could always just talk to them.’
‘You could at that, Joe. You could at that.’
‘You’re probably right, Bridget. No point bothering the old folk. And what do you think of what we’re about, Bridget?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The struggle. What do you make of us?’
‘I’m behind you, Joe. Behind you 100 per cent. I’ve supported Francis all these years.’
‘That you have. No doubts?’
‘No. I don’t know about politics. But I’m with the cause.’
‘And didn’t you worry about your man? Before all this?’
‘I did, Joe. But he was doing the right thing. He was fighting for us. And I wouldn’t go talking to no one about him.’
‘No one’s said anything about talking to anybody, Bridget,’ said Joe encouragingly.
She returned his look. ‘But that’s what you’re trying to find out, isn’t it? Who talked to who about what?’
‘All I’m trying to do, Bridget, is to find out the facts. Does that worry you, Bridget O’Neill? Do you feel threatened?’ He smiled.
‘No. Or yes. I do. I want to find out the truth as much as you. But I don’t understand these questions. I don’t know anything.’
‘I know, Bridget. Occupational hazard, I suppose, that I should upset some people along the way. Don’t think too badly of me. But I do apologize. When we do find out who was responsible I can assure you there’ll be no mercy, Bridget. But for now that’s not what we’re about. Now then, I need to focus in on when Thomas came knocking at the door.’
‘I don’t remember much of it, Joe. It all happened so fast.’
‘I know,’ he said soothingly. ‘Just tell me what you remember. And be sure now, let’s not be imagining extra details just to please, shall we? Now, Thomas comes to the door. Was he anxious? Was he flustered?’
‘He was. But I suppose he would be. You don’t think he …’
Joe Geraghty chuckled. ‘I don’t think anything, Bridget. I’ve told you. I’m just getting the facts. Once I have them, that’s when I’ll begin thinking. So Thomas is outside. You’re in the hallway. Francis and Mikey are in the sitting room. You can’t hear anything. They both come out and Mikey goes upstairs for his bag and goes off with Thomas. That right?’
‘Yes.’
‘So it’s you and Francis. What happens next?’
‘He tells me to expect visitors and I know it’s the police. He goes and gets his coat and leaves me there.’
‘Does he take anything with him?’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know. A bag or something?’
‘I can’t remember. It’s just a blur.’
‘I understand. Were you worried?’
‘I was, Joe. Out where we live the police don’t come by often. When they come with their helicopters and guns and vans …’
‘I know. You’ve been through all this with Kenny. I’ll not rake it all up again. Apart from this. What did you make of George Donnelly?’
‘Do you know him?’
‘We go back a long way. I’m a Belfast man. In theory Donnelly and I shouldn’t have anything to do with each other. But George Donnelly meddles.’
‘I didn’t like him.’
‘I didn’t expect you to. Not many people do. Not even his own people. He scares the living daylights out of them. You don’t want to be messing with him.’
‘No. But if you mean, did I –’
‘No. I’m sure you didn’t. And if you did I’m sure you wouldn’t be telling me now, would you?’ He smiled at her kindly, as if to indicate that the question required no answer. ‘No, of course not. I’m not bothered about Chief Superintendent George Donnelly. Not at all. I’m sure you wouldn’t be so stupid as to give that rascal the time of day. All I’m trying to do is to get an exact picture of the sequence of events. Mikey, Thomas, Francis, where was everybody at any given moment? Now, about this phone.’
‘What phone?’
‘The wee little mobile.’
‘I don’t know anything about a mobile.’
‘Oh, I thought you told Kenny about a mobile. Ah well. You didn’t see Mikey use a phone? Or Francis?’
‘No. I didn’t know they had them.’
‘A tiny little thing. Dark grey. You could hide it in the palm of your hand. Even pretty little hands like your own, Bridget. It folds out. You don’t remember a phone like that?’
‘I think I’d have remembered.’
‘So do I. Be very careful now, try to remember. You’d be doing no one any favours leaving out the detail, least of all Francis.’
‘No. I saw no phone,’ she said decisively.
‘Ah well. Fair enough. It was a long shot. Never mind. Let’s be getting you back home now, shall we? I’ll get Kenny to bring the car round.’
‘Thanks, Joe.’
‘No, thank you, Bridget. You’ve been very patient with us. And at such a traumatic time.’
Bridget collected her handbag from the bedroom. Kenny sat in the car, the engine running, while she and Joe said their goodbyes.
‘If there’s anything more I can do, Bridget, you can always contact me through Kenny.’
‘Thank you, Joe. And if you’re passing the house …’
‘That’s kind. I’d love to drop by for a cup of tea sometime, but I’m rare busy. Don’t think me rude.’
‘Of course not.’
‘A piece of advice, though, Bridge
t. Don’t close us out. We’re family. We stick together.’
‘Right, Joe.’
‘People can get the wrong idea. So don’t close us out, now.’
‘I wouldn’t do that, Joe.’
‘Good. And how was Singapore?’
‘Pardon?’
‘Singapore. Wedding, wasn’t it?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘It’s all right. Francis asked permission before you went. Friends, wasn’t it?’
‘That’s right. It was years ago.’
‘I told Francis not to say to anyone else. It was strictly between the two of us. The three of us now.’
‘I see.’
‘Went well, did it?’
‘I’d never been outside Ireland before in my life. It was exciting, but it all seems so long ago.’
‘Were there a lot of people?’
‘It was a big do, yes. But I kept meself to meself. I’m not one for crowds.’
‘And Francis?’
‘You know Francis. He had to do the normal stag things.’
‘Aye. The odd drink was taken, I dare say.’ He laughed. ‘Was he all right?’
‘He was fine.’
‘Not behaving strangely?’
‘No. He was his normal self.’
‘Grand. It’ll have been a bit of a rest for him, then.’
‘I suppose so.’
‘That’s what I intended when I said he could go. None of those peelers hounding him. You weren’t stopped on the way in or out, were you?’
‘No.’
‘Did he meet anyone?’
‘He met lots of people.’
‘Anyone in particular? Did he spend more time with any one person? Talk about anyone in particular?’
‘No. He just had a good time.’
‘Fine. And you, Bridget?’
‘Me?’
‘Did you make any friendships? Meet anyone in particular? Anyone who’s kept in touch since?’
‘No, Joe. I kept meself to meself. I was glad when we got back if I’m honest. I don’t like all that fuss.’
‘No. Well. I won’t keep you any longer, Bridget. Safe journey home.’
Two days later it was the police again.
There were no helicopters this time, just a small group of nervous young English soldiers and George Donnelly and his sergeant.
‘How may I help you, Mr Donnelly?’
‘An invite inside would be a start. And a nice cup of tea. It’s bitter out here.’
A Traitor in the Family Page 23
