by Val Collins
‘How did Danny die?’
‘He refused to have any part of it. Maybe he tried to escape. One of Brendan’s accomplices might have killed him.’
Aoife raised an eyebrow. ‘So Brendan’s faced with the prospect of telling his sister that her husband is dead, and his first thought is “Who else can I force to break into the bank?”’
‘Think how desperate Brendan must have been by then. His life and that of his family is still at risk, and now he’s an accomplice to murder. What has he got left to lose?’
‘So he decides to break into Stephen Mannion’s house? How would he even know where the Mannions lived?’
Orla nodded. ‘Maura must have told him.’
‘But—’
‘Let me finish, Aoife. Brendan and his accomplices dump Danny’s body. Or maybe Brendan’s accomplices took off once they got their share of the loot and Maura had to help Brendan with the body. It would explain why she was in Dublin that night. Maura knows she’s equally to blame for her husband’s death, so she accepts part of Brendan’s share of the robbery. She’s been living off it ever since. Once Danny’s body was found, Maura knew the police would ask questions. She made up the story about the envelope of cash. She sent money to herself to make it seem more credible, but she accidentally got a thumbprint on the envelope.’
‘Nonsense. Maura’s not an idiot. If she sent herself money, she’d make sure her fingerprints weren’t on the envelope.’ All the tables were filling up now and there was so much chatter it was possible to speak at a normal level again. ‘And Maura would never agree to Danny being kidnapped. Who would risk their husband’s life like that?’
‘Face it, Aoife. Maura has a reckless side. If Danny hadn’t stopped her, she might have killed that other brother of hers.’
‘Tom? She hit Tom. She wasn’t trying to kill him. Wouldn’t you want to hit him if you were her?’
‘Sure, but I wouldn’t have left him bleeding on the ground and I wouldn’t have had to be pulled off him.’
‘Maura wouldn’t kill anyone.’
‘You keep saying that, but would you have believed she’d accept stolen money? Would you have believed she would lie to the police?’
‘Well, no, but—’
‘Be honest, Aoife. Is Maura the person you thought she was a year ago?’
‘No, I guess not.’
‘So who’s to say there isn’t a lot more to her that we can’t even guess at?’
TWENTY-TWO
Aoife frowned at her computer. She still felt guilty about splurging on lunch with Orla, but when she’d spent that money she had expected to be paid shortly. It was already noon on Friday and Cian hadn’t mentioned anything about her salary. Each morning Aoife typed out a to-do list for Cian and put it on his desk. The first thing on today’s list was ‘Pay Aoife.’ Cian had glanced at the list. Instead of going through it point by point as usual, Cian had suggested she read up on some well-known legal cases regarding provenance.
She was trying to concentrate on her research, but she kept picturing Jason’s reaction when she came home without any money. Okay, she had to stop worrying. Maybe Cian didn’t intend to pay her until the evening.
She would hate to lose this job. Not only was the pay brilliant, but at times it was fascinating work. At the moment she was reading about an elderly couple who were selling off their art collection to finance their flight from one European country to another in an effort to outrun the Nazis. It was the early days of the war and there was no way people their age could survive years in the camps. Aoife bit her lip as she scanned the long document, trying to figure out if they had survived.
Cian rushed into the room, his mobile clamped to his ear. ‘I understand. Give me ten minutes to sort it out and I’ll get back to you.’ He disconnected the call. ‘Aoife, I’m going upstairs to pack. Check when is the next plane to New York?’
He hurried out of the room and Aoife could hear him running up the stairs.
A quick online check later, she went looking for him.
‘Cian!’
‘Top of the stairs, first room on your right.’
It was more like an art gallery than a bedroom. The walls seemed to go on forever. You had to look closely to see that the walls were cream because there was barely any space between the paintings. Aoife had never seen so many primary colours in one place.
‘It’s my modern art space,’ Cian said, noticing her stunned expression. ‘When’s the next flight?’
‘Two hours from now, but the only remaining seats are first class. Are you willing to pay that much?’
‘Of course.’
‘I’m not sure you can make it in time. Even without checking your luggage, it takes at least two hours to get through customs these days.’
‘There’s got to be some way around it. Bribe somebody.’
‘What?’
‘Whatever it takes, Aoife. You have to be on that plane.’
‘Me?’
‘I can’t go, I’m flying to Milan shortly.’ He sat on a two-seater couch at the bottom of the gigantic bed and motioned for Aoife to join him. ‘You have to understand, Aoife, this is vitally important. There’s a woman called Danielle Stern who lives in Switzerland. She claims a painting that the Nazis stole from her grandparents is now owned by the Museum of Modern Art. She’s in New York today and has proof of ownership with her. She’s agreed I can have the papers for one day, then she gives them to her lawyer. I need you to collect the documents, bring them to me in Milan, then return them to New York. It all has to be done overnight.’
‘Cian, I have a child who expects me to collect her from the crèche this evening. I can’t just take off, flying all over the world at a moment’s notice.’
‘I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. Aoife. Once Danielle’s solicitor files her claim in court, the entire world will know about this painting. This is my one chance to make a name for myself.’
‘Let me rearrange your meeting with Giorgio.’
‘No, Giorgio thinks he’s being very generous agreeing to see me in the first place. He won’t rearrange. If I don’t meet him, he will never speak to me again. You can bring your child with you. I’ll pay first class for her as well.’
‘Oh, Cian, you can’t just pick up a toddler and cross the world at the drop of a hat. By the time I’d got all her stuff together, the plane would be long gone. Look, you just need someone to act as a courier. It doesn’t have to be me, does it?’
‘I can’t send a stranger. It has to be someone I can trust.’
‘How about someone I trust? A friend of mine is a student. I’m pretty sure she could drop everything and leave right now, and she’s in Dublin, so she has a shorter journey to the airport.’
‘You’re sure she’s reliable?’
‘We’ve been friends since we were four. And if anyone can charm their way to the top of the baggage queue, it’s Orla.’
‘Okay, you sort that out. I’ll see to the flights.’ He grabbed his bag. ‘Tell your friend I’ll meet her at the Aer Lingus departure desk in one hour.’
He ran out of the house. There was no mention of paying Aoife.
*
‘I told you. He’s a crook.’
‘He was in a hurry, Jason. He forgot. I’m sure he’ll pay me on Monday when he gets back.’
‘Oh yeah, of course he will. If you have a brain in your head, you’ll cut your losses now. I’m surprised he didn’t make you pay for Orla’s flight too.’
‘Well, he didn’t. Isn’t that proof he’s not a crook? I had a good day today, Jason. Don’t ruin it.’
‘What was good about it? You didn’t even get paid.’
‘It was exciting. I’m not used to handling that kind of crisis. I was lucky Orla answered her phone and agreed to go. Although when Cian said he would cover her hotel costs if she spent the weekend in New York and buy her a flight to anywhere in Europe, I didn’t think there was much chance she’d refuse.’
‘Wait
until she has to pay for the ticket herself.’
‘Don’t be so negative. Cian flies so much he could probably pay for it with his air miles.’
‘But will he?’ Jason’s eyes narrowed. ‘I haven’t seen you this excited in a long time.’
‘Cian phoned me from the airport. He said, “You’re a treasure”. I was beginning to think this job wasn’t going to work out and, well…’ She felt her cheeks redden. ‘Nobody’s ever called me a treasure before.’
‘All you did was ask Orla to fly to New York.’
‘Yeah, well, you weren’t there. I sorted out his problem and he was grateful.’
‘Not grateful enough to pay you. You need to give up that job today, Aoife, before he cons you out of all our money.’
‘He’ll pay me.’
‘That’s what you said last week.’
‘Okay, I promise if Cian hasn’t paid me by five p.m. on Monday, I’ll leave and I won’t go back.’
‘Good.’ Jason smiled. ‘You’re so gullible, Aoife. I knew he was a crook the second you mentioned him.’
Aoife glared at him and walked out of the room. It took every ounce of her strength not to bang the door.
*
When Aoife arrived at work on Monday morning, there was an envelope of cash on her desk. The attached note said “Salary + flight + bonus for ingenuity.” An extra hundred quid was included.
Aoife spent half the day smiling. When Amy was in bed, she spread all the money on the kitchen table and placed the note carefully in the middle. She went into the sitting room and switched on the TV.
Jason came home. As usual, he went into the kitchen to put his phone in the charger. She thought she could hear him counting the money, but that was probably her imagination. A few minutes later, he went upstairs. She didn’t see him again that evening.
The following morning Aoife was making Amy’s breakfast when she heard Jason coming into the kitchen. She didn’t turn around. She would let him raise the subject.
‘Mum just phoned,’ he said. ‘The police are going to do a re-enactment of the night Dad was murdered.’
TWENTY-THREE
The filming was taking place on the Grange Road in Rathfarnham, the last place Danny had been seen alive. Somebody had provided them with folding chairs and they had settled down for the long wait. The buggy was packed with bottles of water, containers of chopped fruit and enough toys to keep Amy amused for a few hours.
During a break in filming, Jason had gone to speak to Ryan, who was playing the part of Danny. Amy had insisted on going with him. Aoife took the opportunity to lie back in the chair and close her eyes. She felt the sun beating down on her face and sighed with pleasure. Days like this were one in a million in Ireland, especially this early in the year. The sky was azure blue without a single cloud to be seen. She intended to enjoy every minute of it. Although she couldn’t help wishing filming could have taken place on any other day. It would have been a perfect day to bring Amy to the seaside.
As she drifted off, Aoife remembered days on the beach with her own parents. She still had videos of some of those trips. In one she was about Amy’s age. She had been scared of the waves, so her dad had walked into the water carrying her in his arms. She had squealed as her feet trailed in the ocean.
A car driving past brought her back to reality. The film crew were returning from their break, Jason, Amy and Ryan amongst them. Aoife watched as Amy tugged at her father’s sleeve, trying to get his attention. Jason patted her head occasionally but continued talking to his brother.
‘It always feels like these things are never going to end,’ a voice behind her said.
‘Detective Moloney. If you’re looking for my mother-in-law, she isn’t here.’
‘I can see that.’
‘She felt it would be too much for her. I came to let her know what happens.’
‘You’re very good to her.’
‘No, I’m not. This is a difficult time for her. I don’t want her to have to deal with it alone.’
‘She has sons.’
‘They’re guys. They’re not the best on emotional support. Maybe no guys are.’
‘I don’t know about—’ His phone rang. He checked his caller ID. ‘Excuse me,’ he said and crossed the street.
*
‘Ryan says he’d forgotten everyone he knows will see him on TV,’ Jason said.
Aoife nodded. All Ryan had to do was walk down the street and into the shop, but he was so self-conscious he looked like an extremely large puppet.
‘Any chance we could slip away?’
Aoife reached for Amy, who was desperate to join some older kids she could see playing at the end of the street.
‘I promised Maura we’d stay. She doesn’t want Ryan to have to go through this alone.’
‘I’m starving. Do you want anything from the shop?’
‘No, thanks. Take Amy with you. She needs something to distract her.’
*
Aoife watched Jason and Amy coming out of the shop. Amy hugged a giant packet of crisps, something Aoife had refused to buy her since learning that they might be carcinogenic. She was hopping up and down with excitement.
Aoife’s phone rang.
The voice on the other end was panicked. ‘My meeting starts in five minutes and there’s no sign of my presentation.’
‘What? Cian?’
‘My presentation, Aoife! You were supposed to put it on my laptop. It isn’t here.’
‘It was there yesterday, Cian. I checked. It’s in “Presentations, Italy”.’
There was silence as Cian checked his folders. ‘Okay, I got it. I told you to put it on my desktop so I could find it easily, but at least I have it. Bye.’
He was gone. Aoife stared at the phone. Cian had never mentioned anything about putting the file on his desktop and she’d told him twice that she’d set up a new folder for him. She’d thought she and Cian had turned a corner. Obviously she’d been mistaken.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a screech of brakes. Aoife swung around. Somebody must be driving like a lunatic. She hoped the kids she’d seen earlier were okay. At the opposite side of the road, a bus was approaching. It almost blocked Aoife’s view of the incident. She could see a large car, probably a BMW, skidding slightly as it tried to avoid a small obstacle in the middle of the street. The bus passed and Aoife gasped. The obstacle was Amy.
TWENTY-FOUR
Aoife heard Jason shout. They both raced up the street. Aoife screamed ‘Amy!’ and the child turned, her back to the car. Jason was a little ahead, but the car was only seconds from impact. Eyes glued on her daughter as if that could offer her some protection, Aoife tore down the street. It happened so quickly, Aoife barely registered it. A pair of hands seemed to come from nowhere, enveloped Amy and pulled her to safety. Jason groaned. He stopped, panting heavily, arms resting on his knees, trying to recover his breath. Aoife raced past him and almost grabbed Amy out of Detective Moloney’s arms.
Amy patted the tears that ran down Aoife’s face as she hugged and kissed her.
‘Yucky!’
Aoife laughed and hugged her tighter.
‘Thank you so much, Detective.’
Detective Moloney nodded and went to check on the driver, who was slumped in the seat, his head resting on the steering wheel.
Jason joined her and kissed Amy’s head. His face was ashen. ‘I left her with you, Aoife.’
‘I was on the phone. I didn’t know. Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I did. You weren’t listening. You were too busy talking to that Cian about your precious job.’ His voice shook. ‘Well, I hope your job will be some comfort to you when our child is dead.’
‘Jason!’
But Jason had stormed off. She saw him get into the car and drive away. How were they supposed to get home?
Amy was wriggling to be let down. Aoife put her on the ground but kept a firm grip on her hand. She put her other hand out to stop Detective Moloney as he
walked past.
‘Detective, I’m so grateful. Thank you so much. If it wasn’t for you—’ Her eyes filled with tears.
‘You’re welcome.’ He started to walk away, then turned back. ‘Look, don’t blame yourself. Everyone has near accidents with kids. It’s a wonder half of them survive infancy.’
‘Honestly, I don’t know what happened. I was on the phone and I didn’t hear Jason coming back. I’d never have let her out of my sight if I’d known—’
Aoife’s legs felt shaky and she sat down. Amy tried to pull away, but Aoife wouldn’t loosen her grip. Amy whinged, held her free arm out to the detective and cried, ‘Moaney! Moaney! Up!’
The detective laughed. ‘Do you mind?’
Aoife shook her head.
Detective Moloney lifted Amy on to his shoulders. He hopped up and down. Amy shouted ‘More!’ The detective ran down the street, Amy bouncing up and down on his shoulders. They disappeared out of sight and returned a few moments later. In the distance Aoife could hear Amy shout, ‘Horsy, horsy, more, more.’
Aoife smiled. She’d have to go rescue him or Amy would treat him as her mode of transport for the rest of the day.
Ten minutes later she felt strong enough to stand. ‘Amy,’ she called, ‘time to let the horsy rest. You don’t want him to get too tired, do you?’
The detective grinned. ‘Let her stay up there. I’m bored out of my mind. I always am at these things. It’s nice to have a distraction. She’s a great kid.’
‘When she isn’t trying to kill herself.’
‘Don’t worry. Every parent has at least one scare like that. I lost Blaine when he was seven.’
‘Blaine’s your son?’
‘Yes.’
‘How old is he?’
‘He’s fourteen now.’
Amy rested her head against the detective’s. Aoife felt a pang she couldn’t quite understand. ‘I think she’s ready for the buggy now.’
The detective lifted Amy down and helped Aoife strap her into the buggy.
