by Val Collins
‘But that’s just it, Aoife. When we broke up, you said I never knew the real you.’
‘You didn’t. I wasn’t myself after my parents died.’
‘But I wasn’t myself either.’
‘What?’
‘It’s true, Aoife. From the minute I met you, I knew you were the only woman I could ever love. When your parents died, you needed someone to take care of you, so that was the person I became.’
‘Are you saying you controlled me because that’s what I wanted you to do?’
Jason stood up. He put one arm out to touch Aoife, saw her expression and drew it away. ‘I became the person you needed, Aoife. Ask Mum or any of my brothers—I was never one to take control. I always let others sort things out. But you needed someone to do everything for you, so that’s the person I became.’
‘Right, Jason. So everything that went wrong with our relationship was my fault. Is that it?’
‘No, Aoife. That’s not it at all. What I’m saying is I became the person I thought you wanted me to be. Now you need me to be somebody else, I can become that person too.’
‘Oh, Jason! It doesn’t work like that. You can only be yourself. I don’t want you to pretend to be someone else.’ She checked her watch. ‘Look, I really can’t do this now. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?’
He hesitated. ‘Okay, Aoife, but all I’m saying is I don’t adapt to change easily. I stupidly tried to keep our relationship the way it used to be because I thought that was the only way it would work. Now I see that it can’t work that way, I’ll change.’
Aoife patted his shoulder. ‘Tomorrow, okay? We’ll talk through the whole thing tomorrow.’
*
As she ran upstairs to the bathroom, Aoife tried Orla’s phone again. Still no answer. She was washing her hands when she heard the front door close. Jason was back? Hadn’t she shut the door properly? Had he somehow managed to get a copy of the new key? She ran downstairs and checked the front door. It was fully shut. ‘Jason!’ No answer. Aoife opened the door and looked out. The road was empty. As she was closing the door, Aoife noticed a receipt on the ground. Lunch for two. Jason must have dropped it. Who was he taking to lunch? When she examined the receipt carefully it was for Flanagan’s pub in Kildare. On the back of the receipt was an address in Stephen’s Green. The apartment Orla was trying to talk Cian into buying. The writing was Cian’s.
*
That was odd. She must have picked up Cian’s receipt by mistake and it had fallen out of her pocket while she was talking to Jason. But that didn’t explain the door closing. ‘Jason!’ Aoife checked the downstairs rooms. There was nobody in the house. She shrugged and was about to leave when she noticed one of the kitchen chairs standing in the centre of the room. Aoife certainly hadn’t left it there. She stared at the chair, hands covering her mouth. Had she and Jason disturbed a burglar? Was it the burglar she’d heard leaving when she was in the bathroom?
*
Aoife keyed 999 into her phone. One finger on the dial button, she checked every room in the house. They were all empty. Every window was shut. She returned to the kitchen and checked the back door. It was locked. Was she imagining she’d heard the door shut? Maybe she’d moved the chair and forgotten about it. No. She would never leave the chair where Amy could fall over it. It looked like somebody had used the chair to reach something and not had time to put it back with the others. Aoife opened the kitchen cupboards. She kept loose change in a box on the top shelf, but that was undisturbed. Anyway, if she could reach it without a chair, so could any other adult. The only thing she’d put where it couldn’t easily be reached was Tadhg’s sketches. She got the stepladder and climbed up. Tadhg’s sketch pads were gone.
FORTY-EIGHT
Cian had wanted Tadhg’s sketches. Surely he wouldn’t break into her house to get them? But all the doors and windows were locked. Whoever had come into Aoife’s house had used a key.
Aoife sunk into the kitchen chair. She was always leaving her bag lying around the office. Cian could have copied her key. Actually, he wouldn’t have needed to do that. When Aoife had changed the locks, she’d given the emergency key to Orla. Cian was in Orla’s apartment all the time. He could easily have taken the key without Orla missing it.
She had told Cian she would be working in Dublin that afternoon. Had he borrowed Orla’s key, let himself into Aoife’s house and stolen Tadhg’s sketch pads? Why would he do that? Had he been in the house when Aoife had come home? She shivered. Why did Cian want Tadhg’s sketches so badly? Whatever the reason, how dare he break into her house? She grabbed her keys. Cian might be her boss and her best friend’s partner, but that didn’t give him the right to steal from her. He would return Tadhg’s sketches right now or she was calling the police.
*
As she parked beside Cian’s car, Aoife had second thoughts. Was she mad confronting Cian like this? No normal person broke into somebody’s house. Maybe she was wrong. What if she accused Cian and he was innocent? Maybe Jason had somehow got a key to her house and let himself in. Was it possible Jason let himself in regularly? Why had he come to the house looking for her today? She hadn’t told Maura she planned to go to Dublin. Shouldn’t Jason have assumed she was at work? Had he made up that whole speech because Aoife had come back unexpectedly? It would be just like him to search the place for proof Aoife was cheating on him. She wouldn’t put it past him to take Tadhg’s sketches either, simply because they were drawn by another man.
Aoife let herself into Cian’s house. She would play it by ear. If Cian appeared guilty, she’d mention that Tadhg’s sketches had gone missing and see how he reacted. If she got the impression Cian didn’t know what she was talking about, Aoife would say she came here to see Orla.
She opened the kitchen door. Cian was sitting at the table, the sketch pads spread out in front of him. Oh my God! Aoife covered her hands with her mouth. She had to get out of here. This was madness. She now had proof that Cian was a thief. She needed to call the police immediately.
As she backed out of the room, Cian looked up. ‘Aoife! What are you doing here?’ He followed her gaze to the sketch pads. The colour drained from his face.
FORTY-NINE
‘You took Orla’s key? You broke into my house?’
Cian put his hands on his head. ‘I’m sorry, Aoife. I know it’s no excuse, but I wanted to destroy the sketches. I don’t want Orla to ever see them again.’
‘What? That doesn’t make any sense.’
He held out his hands. ‘I know it doesn’t, Aoife. I was desperate. I can’t bear it that Orla loved Tadhg. I need to destroy all traces of him so Orla can be completely mine.’
‘Oh my God! You killed Tadhg, didn’t you?’
‘No, I didn’t! How could you even think that?’
‘You did. You’re a murderer.’ Aoife pulled the phone from her bag and dialled 999. Cian hurried towards her, both arms held at shoulder height in front of him, palms facing her.
‘You don’t want to do that, Aoife. I promise you, on my mother’s grave, I had nothing to do with Tadhg’s death.’
‘Tell that to the police. While you’re at it, you can explain why you broke into my house.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Cian returned to the table and sat down. He leaned back in the chair and gave a slight grin. ‘I found these sketches in your office, Aoife. Maybe I shouldn’t have looked through your desk, but I was perfectly within my legal rights to do so. Why you would think I broke into your house is beyond me.’
‘That won’t work, Cian. Your fingerprints must be all over my kitchen.’
‘I can guarantee there’s not a single fingerprint belonging to me in that house.’
‘And are you sure there’s no hairs or anything else the police can get DNA from?’
Cian looked uncomfortable. ‘You work for me. Why shouldn’t you have invited me into your house?’
‘Then you don’t have anything to worry about, do you, Cian? I’m sure the polic
e won’t find it at all strange that your DNA is in my house but there’s no sign of any of your fingerprints.’
Cian paused. ‘The police aren’t going to do DNA tests because you think somebody was in your house. Nothing has been disturbed and nothing is missing. They’ll think you’re nuts.’
He was probably right, but Aoife wasn’t about to admit it. She shrugged. ‘It’s a chance I’m willing to take.’ She dialled 999 again.
‘Wait!’ Cian stood up but he kept his distance. ‘I didn’t kill Tadhg, but if you call the police, it’s going to cause all sorts of problems. For both of us.’
*
‘What?’
‘Our entire working relationship is illegal, Aoife. I should have registered you as an employee and you should be paying taxes on your wages. You’ll get us both in trouble.’
‘I haven’t worked for you for long and it’s my first job this tax year. I’m way below the threshold for paying tax.’
‘You should still have registered your employment with the tax office.’
‘Maybe I should, but it’s not tax fraud if I don’t owe any tax. Anyway I’m pretty sure I have until the end of the tax year to register.’
‘Whatever your situation is, it’s illegal to hire somebody and not pay their PRSI contributions and all that other stuff. From the day you started working for me, I was breaking the law. Why would you want to get me in trouble?’
‘I don’t care about PRSI contributions. I care that you killed Tadhg.’
‘I didn’t, Aoife. I wanted the sketches. You wouldn’t give them to me, so I took them. I admit, I shouldn’t have done that, but I didn’t kill anyone.’
‘I don’t believe you and I don’t think the police will believe you either.’
‘Okay, Aoife. Look, I’ll tell you the whole truth.’
*
Aoife waited. Cian seemed to think his explanation required a lot of thought. Or was he stalling to give himself time to make up a plausible story?
‘I don’t want the police linking me to Tadhg’s death. Not because I had anything to do with it. Because there are other things I don’t want them to discover.’ When Aoife looked unconvinced, he added, ‘I specifically didn’t want them seeing Tadhg’s sketches because of this.’ He held up the sketch of the rectangular box that had reminded Aoife of Tadhg’s coffin.
‘You don’t want them to know that Tadhg made a drawing of a rectangle?’
Cian didn’t answer. Clearly it wasn’t a rectangle. Now that Aoife looked at it, the sketch reminded her of something. ‘It’s the painting you had on the wall. The one you put in your bedroom when Orla decided to invite the art critics for dinner. You don’t want the police to see it. It’s stolen, isn’t it?’ She put her phone in her pocket. ‘I should have known. That’s why you have so much money. You’re dealing in stolen art.’
‘It’s not stolen. Check it online if you don’t believe me. It’s very famous. It used to be on loan to the Museum of Modern Art in New York until I bought it from the owner.’
‘MoMA! It must be worth millions. How could you afford that?’
‘Another question I don’t want the police asking.’
‘But where did you get the money?’
‘It’s not important. The point is I don’t want the police asking that question and I don’t want them to see Tadhg’s sketch because it might get them thinking on the right track.’
‘Wait a minute. Tadhg had several books on modern art. He recognised this painting, didn’t he?’
‘If he did, don’t you think he would have told you or Orla?’
‘Maybe he didn’t have time. Those art books looked pretty new. Maybe he discovered it the night he died. Is that what happened? Your number is on the list of calls Tadhg made that night. Did he threaten to tell the police?’
‘You’re letting your imagination run away with you, Aoife.’
‘Am I? I’m sure it didn’t take Tadhg long to figure out where you got the money for that kind of artwork. He was a lot brighter than me, but even I got there eventually. It’s the bank robbery money, isn’t it?’
FIFTY
Cian shrugged. When it was obvious he didn’t intend to reply, Aoife said, ‘You robbed the bank.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I was a teenager.’
‘Your father robbed it?’
‘He was desperate. He thought if he could afford to take my mother to Switzerland or the Mayo Clinic, he’d be able to get her onto some clinical trial. Somebody might be able to save her.’
‘So Danny wasn’t involved?’
‘No.’
‘And your father robbed the bank the night Danny disappeared so the police would think Danny was the thief?’
‘He’d planned to rob the bank the following week anyway. He’d made sure Martin Hanrahan’s visits to the bank were on CCTV. Not that he wanted Hanrahan arrested. He just wanted to confuse the police. When Maura phoned to say Danny was missing, Dad saw another opportunity to create confusion. He had no way of knowing if Danny would ever return, but either way it would put the police investigation on the wrong track.’
‘You made up the story about the three men breaking into your home and tying you up?’
Cian nodded.
‘What did your father do with the money?’
‘Nothing. My mother deteriorated so quickly there wasn’t any time to get her treatment abroad. Once she died, Dad had no interest in the money. I asked him where it was once or twice. All he would say was “it doesn’t matter now”. It took me months to find it after he died and a few more months to figure out what to do with it. I buy everything I can with cash, and I try to stay under the radar. That’s why I couldn’t hire you officially. Some of the cash is in Dad’s old hiding place, but I spend a lot of it on art.’ He picked up Tadhg’s sketch. ‘It took me years to build up enough contacts in the art world to find the type of people who trade in art on the black market.’ He put the sketch down on the table. ‘That was my biggest purchase, and the guy who sold it to me didn’t even bat an eyelid when I said I wanted to pay in cash. As soon as I get a good buyer, I’ll sell it on. That will give me more money I can safely lodge in the bank.’
‘How did you get the paintings into the country?’
‘Different ways. If the painting is in Europe, I take the ferry and drive back with it. It’s easier to sneak things into a country when you have an entire car to hide them in. It’s a little more challenging when I have to buy them in the States. Orla brought back my latest purchase.’
‘That time she went to New York? You had planned to send me, hadn’t you?’
‘Why do you think I risked hiring a secretary? I thought if I created this huge panic, you’d rush off to New York. I’d keep you so busy there you wouldn’t have time to wonder what you were doing. I even hoped you’d bring Amy. A young mother with a baby is unlikely to be targeted by customs officials.’ He shrugged. ‘But Orla worked out just as well. Maybe even better.’
‘You’ve been using Orla all this time. You don’t love her at all?’
‘Love might be a bit strong. I care—no, I enjoy her very much. She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known. She’s also a brilliant distraction. Not even customs officials are immune to her charms. Nobody pays the slightest attention to me when we’re together. I could probably get away with shipping an entire art collection in my luggage without anyone noticing.’
‘Your father killed Danny, right?’
‘No, he didn’t.’
‘How can you even know? You weren’t there.’
‘I knew my father. He wouldn’t hurt anyone, let alone kill them. He wouldn’t even have considered robbing the bank if he wasn’t desperate to save my mother.’
‘The money mattered to you, though, didn’t it, Cian? It mattered enough to kill Tadhg when he discovered your secret.’ She pulled her mobile out of her pocket again.
‘I told you, I didn’t kill Tadhg. If Tadhg figured out where I got my money, he nev
er mentioned it to me.’
Aoife dialled 999.
‘Aoife, listen to me. Maybe you’re right and Tadhg was checking art books looking for my paintings, but he hadn’t discovered anything yet. Are you listening to me? Tadhg knew nothing about me, I swear.’
Aoife didn’t reply. The operator answered. ‘Hello, I’d like to speak to—’
Cian sighed. ‘Do you want me to take Amy again?’
FIFTY-ONE
‘What?’
‘You heard me.’
‘Sorry, I dialled the wrong number,’ Aoife said to the operator and disconnected the call. She put the phone back in her pocket. ‘You took my daughter?’
‘Ah, now I’ve got your attention. That little episode wasn’t the disaster I thought it had turned out to be after all. The only part that worked out was that silly girl accepting my fake ID.’
‘What are you talking about? You kidnapped my daughter so I’d stop investigating Danny’s death? Why do you even care?’
‘I don’t. I told you the whole thing was a disaster. I didn’t even know you were investigating your father-in-law’s death.’
‘But the note—’
‘The note meant stop investigating Tadhg’s death.’
‘So I was right. You did kill him.’
‘I didn’t kill anyone. Tadhg worked for me. I didn’t want the police involving me in the investigation. It was bad enough when Orla said my phone number was on the list of people Tadhg contacted the night he died, but then she said you were investigating Tadhg’s death. I never would have hired you if I knew you fancied yourself as a detective. I needed the investigation to stop.’
Aoife felt like she was losing her mind. ‘You kidnapped my daughter because you wanted Orla to stop her investigation. What sense does that make?’
‘You were helping Orla. Orla had made friends with the detective assigned to the case. Anything you uncovered would go straight to the guards. It mightn’t occur to Orla that I was involved, but the police were sure to think I was worth investigating. How long would it be before they wondered where my money came from?’
