by Val Collins
‘We’ll help. Orla’s very artistic. She’ll tell us how to make them look good, won’t y—’
‘The boys can manage on their own.’
None of them had heard Jack come up behind them.
‘No, we can’t, Jack. Do you want the poor bride to have a fit when she sees the state of the place?’
‘Tadhg—’
‘Jack! Are you coming home with us or do you intend to move in with the floozy?’
‘Now, Bridget.’
‘Don’t “now Bridget” me. You’ve hardly spoken to me all day and don’t think I didn’t see you hanging around that tart. Whose side are you on, anyway?’
‘There aren’t any sides, Bridget. We’re all one family. Come on, let me walk you to the car. Who’s driving you home?’
*
‘Not very friendly, is he?’ Orla said as they watched Jack leave the room, his arm around Bridget’s shoulder.
‘He doesn’t like me either. Maura says he’s uncomfortable around women, but he doesn’t seem to have a problem with Bridget. Or with Maura either, for that matter.’
‘Jack doesn’t dislike either of you,’ Tadhg said. ‘He’s worried about me and the lads. He doesn’t want us to have anything to do with girls. We have to sign a contract promising not to bring any girls into the house.’
‘What!’ Orla laughed. ‘Is he trying to turn you all into priests?’
Tadhg laughed and leaned across them to collect the empty glasses. His hair brushed against Orla’s shoulders. They looked like a pair of movie stars, golden and shining.
‘We have to leave the house when we’re twenty-one. Jack says we need to concentrate on getting our lives together and we’ll have plenty of time for girls later.’
‘I feel like the town harlot,’ Orla said. ‘What is it about me? First Bridget thinks I want to lead her middle-aged sons astray and now Jack thinks I’m going to corrupt a teenager.’
Tadhg grinned. ‘You can corrupt me any time you like.’
TWELVE
The day after the funeral Aoife checked in on Maura. She rang the doorbell and waited. After a few minutes she rang again. She heard footsteps in the hall and the door was opened by a small, slight middle-aged man with balding mousy-brown hair. He held an open newspaper in one hand.
‘Can I help you?’
‘Hi. Where’s Maura?’
‘She’s not available right now. Are you a friend?’
‘I’m Jason’s wife.’
The man smiled. ‘Aoife, I’ve heard so much about you. Come in. Maura’s upstairs getting ready. We’re going out for lunch.’
‘I’m sorry, you are?’
‘Brendan.’ The man stuck the newspaper under his arm and held out his hand. ‘I’m Maura’s brother.’
‘Oh, hi. Maura didn’t mention you were coming.’
‘I didn’t tell her in case it didn’t work out. I’d hoped to make it for the funeral, but I had business in the States and I couldn’t get back in time. Maura tells me you organised everything.’
‘Jack did most of it. I just tagged along.’
‘She’s lucky to have you and Jack to count—’
‘Aoife! I wasn’t expecting you today.’
‘I should have called, Maura. I just wanted to check you were okay.’
‘You never have to make an appointment to come to my house, Aoife. And if you hadn’t come today, you might have missed Brendan. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in twenty-five years, and would you believe I can’t even talk him into staying longer than the weekend.’
‘I wish I could stay longer, Maura, but you know I have to be in Belfast on Monday and then there’s that conference in London.’
‘What kind of work are you in?’
‘Brendan owns his own computer company.’
Brendan grinned. ‘She makes it sound so grand. I’m the only employee.’
‘If you get that contract in Belfast, you’ll be able to hire more staff and it will be easier for you to visit me.’
‘Yeah, that would be good, but I have a sneaking suspicion those people are just stringing me along. They’ve insisted I go to Belfast three times in the last four months and they still won’t discuss terms.’
‘You were in Belfast?’ Maura looked shocked. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? I’d have gone up to meet you.’
‘They never give me more than a few hours’ notice. I usually fly straight in and out. Actually, they made me go to Dublin a few weeks ago, but it was the same thing. I got no notice and had to spend the entire night in the hotel room preparing my presentation. The second it was over I got a taxi to the airport. There was no time for socialising.’ He sighed. ‘If I didn’t need the money, I’d tell them what they could do with their contract.’
‘Oh no, your business is in trouble again?’
‘No more than anyone else in the current economic climate. You don’t have to worry about me, Maura.’ He pulled her into a hug. ‘These days I’m very sensible and boring. It’s a wonder Cassie still puts up with me.’
Maura’s face froze. She drew away. ‘We’d better hurry or we’ll be late. Aoife, will you join us? You’re more than welcome.’
*
‘What’s Cassie like?’
Jason waved the electricity bill. ‘There has got to be something wrong with this. December and January I can understand but we have to be using less electricity now.’ He slammed the bill down on the kitchen table. ‘This is ridiculous.’
‘Jason?’
‘What?’
‘Brendan’s wife, Cassie. What’s she like?’
‘Never met her. Do we have any older bills?’
‘I think they’re online. I got the impression Maura doesn’t like Cassie.’
Jason nodded. ‘She hates her.’
‘Why?’
Jason flicked through his phone. ‘Cassie insists on a lifestyle they can’t afford. Mum thinks that’s what started Uncle Brendan’s betting problem.’
‘He’s a gambler?’
‘Used to be. He gave it up about ten years ago. Mum says he’s still up to his eyeballs in debt, though, and if the photos he showed me are anything to go by, Cassie’s spending habits haven’t changed.’
‘Cassie doesn’t have a job?’
Jason looked up from his phone. ‘She runs her parents’ company. It does quite well, I think, but you’d need ten companies to fund their lifestyle.’
‘How do they live?’
‘They own two houses, one in Edinburgh, one in the Highlands, and they used to have one in France, but they had to sell that. Their kids attend private schools, they go on four holidays every year and Cassie always travels in style. Your average five-star hotel is slumming it in her mind.’
‘Brendan told you this?’
‘No. I barely know him. I remember Mum and Dad arguing about it. Mum wanted to lend Uncle Brendan money. Dad agreed the first time, but he wouldn’t do it again. He said they couldn’t afford to subsidise Uncle Brendan’s gambling problem or Cassie’s compulsive spending. Mum was really upset. She said if they didn’t lend him money, Uncle Brendan would lose everything.’
‘You never mentioned your parents arguing before.’
‘Uncle Brendan’s the only thing they ever argued about. They had several shouting matches about him. Or rather, Mum shouted. I don’t think I ever heard Dad raise his voice.’
‘Were they still arguing about it when your dad was killed?’
‘I think so. I know Dad hadn’t given in yet. He probably would have lent Uncle Brendan the money eventually, but after he disappeared, Mum hadn’t any money to lend.’
‘How did they manage?’
‘Some relative of Cassie’s died and left them enough to muddle by until Uncle Brendan got help for his addiction.’ Jason put down his phone. ‘I’m going to check the electricity metre and I’m taking a reading every week from now on.’
Aoife smiled. She’d be starting her new job on Monday. She couldn’t wait. Finally,
the days of worrying about utility bills would be over.
THIRTEEN
Cian Mannion opened the door and stepped aside to allow Aoife to enter. ‘This is your office. Is something wrong?’
‘No, of course not.’ Aoife admired the large room with cream walls and the patio doors that led to an overly manicured garden. ‘It’s beautiful. I didn’t expect the extension to be this large. It’s all so bright and airy.’
‘Well, this is where I live. I don’t use the front of the house much. I’ve got you a laptop, a PC and an iPad, and there’s a phone, mobile and a printer. I’ve never had a secretary before, so if there’s anything I’ve forgotten, please tell me.’
Aoife fingered the gold handles on the light grey oak desk. ‘This is perfect.’ Two gold shelving units with black glass shelves lined one wall. ‘Are these for filing?’
‘Ridiculous, aren’t they? We won’t even see the glass shelves when they’re full of files, but I couldn’t resist.’ Cian pointed at a wooden chest that was slightly lower than the desk and ran behind it. ‘This will hold hanging files. If you need more filing space, see what you can find online and I’ll order it, but please, none of that ugly metal furniture.’
*
Midway through the morning, Cian popped his head into Aoife’s office. ‘All okay? Is there anything you’d like to ask me?’
Aoife had been waiting for her chance. She went through a list of questions, then asked, ‘Did you know my father-in-law?’
Cian looked alarmed.
‘Who’s your father-in-law?’
‘He was Danny Walsh. He’s in the papers at the moment. His body was found recently in the grounds of an abandoned building in the city centre. I thought Barbara would have mentioned it.’
‘Oh, right. I knew about the body, but I didn’t realise he was your father-in-law. How could I have known him? That was years ago, right? I was only a kid at the time.’
‘Danny worked with your father in the bank.’
‘Yes, but I was only ever in the bank once or twice. I didn’t know any of the people who worked there.’
‘Your father never mentioned that Danny had disappeared?’
‘Hmm, I think I remember Dad saying something about it, but that was a very bad time for us. My mother was dying and then there was the robbery. We didn’t have the energy to worry about anything else.’
‘You were robbed?’
‘Not us, the bank.’
‘When was this?’
‘A couple of months before my mother died. April, I think.’
‘Did the police find the bank robber?’
‘Somebody was arrested. I don’t remember who. I was preoccupied with my own problems at the time. Are you alright?’
‘Huh? Oh yeah, I’m fine. I think that’s all my questions for now. I’ll get on with this and I’ll let you know if I need any help.’
Cian was barely out of her office when Aoife grabbed her phone and did a quick internet search. A few minutes later, she phoned Maura.
‘I know why the police are suspicious of you. They think Danny robbed a bank.’
FOURTEEN
‘It makes sense, Maura. I checked online. The robbery was the same day Danny disappeared. The money was never recovered. I’ll bet the police think you’ve been living off it all these years.’
‘I’m sure they do.’
‘Did you know about the robbery?’
‘Of course. It was all over the papers. The police suspected Danny almost immediately.’
‘What did they say when you told them about the money you received each month?’
‘I never told them.’
‘Huh? You told Detective Moloney that the police knew all about it.’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘Why?’
‘The detective who handled the investigation into Danny’s disappearance died five years ago. There were no computers when Danny disappeared, so there’s no permanent record of the investigation. When I was a kid, one of the neighbours had his speeding charge dropped because his entire paper file disappeared. Who’s to say a single report didn’t fall out of Danny’s file? Detective Moloney might not believe me, but there’s nobody to testify against me now. He can’t prove I’m lying.’
‘But, Maura, why didn’t you tell the police about the envelope? You thought it came from Danny. Surely it would have been the easiest way for the police to find him.’
‘And then what? I thought Danny had deserted us. Why would I believe he was likely to come back? How would it help me if the police found him?’
‘You didn’t want to know why he left you?’
‘Of course I did. It was all I could think about for weeks. Then I realised it was far more important to feed my kids and keep a roof over their heads.’
‘You thought if you found Danny, he’d stop sending you money?’
‘No. I thought if the police found Danny, he wouldn’t be able to send me any money.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘What if the money he sent me was the proceeds of the bank robbery?’
*
Cian came into Aoife’s office and she quickly ended the call. She thought about Maura’s revelation all day. Maura hadn’t wanted the police to find her husband. She had deliberately misled them, and she had been willing to accept money she believed was stolen. Five years ago the detective who handled Danny’s case had died. Five years ago Maura had started banking the money she received each month. That was unlikely to be a coincidence. Maura had been afraid to bank the money earlier in case it attracted the attention of the authorities and the police had reopened their investigation. With the detective dead, she was willing to take the chance. She had deliberately misled the police, and less than two weeks ago she had lied to Detective Moloney. Aoife tried to rationalise Maura’s behaviour. Maybe anyone with five children and no income would be tempted to be an accomplice to bank robbery. But would they lie to the police? What bothered Aoife most was the growing realisation that she didn’t know her mother-in-law at all.
*
Aoife spent her lunch hour googling everything she could find about the bank robbery. There wasn’t much to read. The robbery was mentioned in all the papers, but not in any great detail. Their priority at that time was the recent disappearance of a college student. The day Maura was taken in for police questioning, she’d said something about a girl disappearing. What was it? Something about feeling stupid reporting a grown man missing when that Buckley lunatic was kidnapping young girls. Buckley was the only serial killer who had ever operated in Ireland in Aoife’s lifetime, so she’d often heard his name mentioned. She’d only been a kid when he was arrested, though, so she didn’t know much about him. Was it possible the police had been so caught up in searching for the missing girl that they hadn’t enough resources to devote to Danny’s disappearance? Her watch beeped to remind her she had to return to work in twenty minutes. She went back to her research. Several papers mentioned that a man called Martin Hanrahan had been arrested in connection with the bank robbery. He had been released without charge. Martin Hanrahan had several previous robbery convictions, but according to the papers he was a small-time criminal and would have been unlikely to undertake a bank robbery on his own. Was it possible Maura had been right about Danny being involved in the robbery? Could Danny have been Martin Hanrahan’s accomplice? Was Martin Hanrahan a murderer?
FIFTEEN
At 5 p.m., Aoife phoned Maura. ‘Do you know why Martin Hanrahan was questioned about the bank robbery?’
‘He’s local and everyone knows he’s a criminal. Isn’t that reason enough?’
‘I don’t know. I’d like to interview him. How could I get his phone number?’
‘I’ll ask Jack. He can contact the local parish priest. Someone in the community is bound to be able to get Hanrahan’s number.’
*
It seemed unprofessional to leave work without saying goodbye, so Aoife went in search of Cian. He’d to
ld her his office was at the opposite end of the corridor from hers. She knocked on the door and waited. When there was no reply, she looked inside. What an office! She’d been employed by companies that would have fit up to twenty people in that amount of space. Two walls of the room were lined with fitted bookshelves that ran from floor to ceiling. Ancient leather-bound books filled every shelf. The books were so dark they would have created a gloomy atmosphere had it not been for the three large windows overlooking a lush green lawn. From two of the windows there was a clear view of a small pond that held an elaborately sculpted fountain. From the third she glimpsed a multicoloured rose garden.
Aoife was half afraid to touch the books in case they were valuable, but when she reached out with one finger, she discovered they were fakes. What appeared to be bookshelves was actually a painting.
The fourth wall was covered in red flock wallpaper. The last time she’d seen something similar was on an episode of Downton Abbey. Aoife wondered if the wall covering was also fake. At least half the wallpaper was hidden by a large painting in pastel shades. It appeared to be an enactment of some complicated scene. She could make out half-naked figures, something that might have been angels and was that a serpent?
It might be best not to be caught here. She didn’t want to appear nosy. Aoife closed the office door gently and called out: ‘Cian! I’m leaving now.’
‘I’m in the kitchen.’
Aoife followed his voice. It was a dull day, but she blinked as she entered the kitchen. The room was gigantic. It must run the whole length of the extension. The walls, units and even the floor tiles were sparkling white. One entire wall was made of glass. It was a little sterile but very impressive.
‘You have a lovely kitchen.’
‘Thanks. How was your first day?’
‘It was great. I’ve made your travel arrangements to Milan. I paid for it on my own credit card. I hope you don’t mind but that was a lot easier than trying to figure out a way to pay for it in cash. Have you already cancelled your credit card, or do you want me to do it for you?’
