by Val Collins
‘Well, not any more. It’s all about perspective, isn’t it? I mean my parents were going about their normal day when a truck driver ran the lights and killed them. They probably didn’t even have time to register what happened and they died instantly. Isn’t that better than dying in a war or being tortured or blown to bits?’
‘Yes, but that doesn’t make your loss any less—’
‘And when you think about it, I was very lucky. I had pretty great parents for eighteen years. Am I any worse off than people who spend most of their lives coping with lousy parents?’
‘I don’t think—’
Aoife’s phone rang. Before Maura could comment, Aoife disconnected the call. ‘We’d better be off,’ she said, grabbing the buggy. ‘Thanks for everything, Maura.’
She waited until she was out of view of the house before returning Jason’s call.
SEVEN
Aoife slipped out of the office for the fourth time that morning and hurried the hundred yards to the chemist. She had arrived in Dublin an hour early, expecting to find the shop empty, only to discover eight a.m. was their rush hour. Fortunately there was now only one other customer left, a girl in a school uniform whose eyes were glued to the bus stop and who was being ignored by everyone. The young shop assistant took Amy’s prescription and passed it to the chemist.
‘That’s a new product, it’s very good,’ she said to Aoife, who was pretending to examine something promising instant pain relief.
‘One of my colleagues said you give reductions to people who work next door,’ Aoife said.
‘I could give you five percent off that, but there’s no reduction on prescriptions.’
‘Oh, okay. I wasn’t sure because I haven’t worked there very long.’
‘I thought I hadn’t seen you before.’
‘I suppose most of us must come in here?’
‘Oh yes. Several of them have been coming here for years.’
‘What about the woman who was murdered? Did you know her?’
‘I recognised her face when I saw it in the paper, but she wasn’t the chatty type. Wasn’t it dreadful what happened to her?’ She lowered her voice and leaned closer. ‘Colette, one of the girls who works here, she saw the murderer.’
‘Really?’
‘Well, Colette’s not one hundred percent sure he was the actual murderer. She didn’t get a good look at him. She was waiting at the bus stop outside and it was very dark. She only noticed him ’cos of his mobile. He had one of those—what do you call it when things light up in the dark?’
‘Fluorescent?’
‘That’s it. She noticed his mobile ’cos the cover was black and the sides and the writing were fluorescent green. She thought her boyfriend might like one.’
‘Does she know what the writing said?’
‘Jameson Whiskey. Her boyfriend drinks like a fish, so she thought of him when she saw it. If you ask me, it’s the last thing she should get him. He doesn’t need to be reminded to drink more.’
‘Was she able to give the police any kind of description?’
‘Nope. Not a teenager and not old is the best she could come up with. Colette couldn’t even remember what he was wearing. She lives in a world of her own at the best of times. The police told her the guy was captured on CCTV, but the weather was so bad that evening the picture isn’t clear and everyone’s face was hidden by umbrellas or hats. I thought they’d be able to identify him through the phone cover, but the police said millions of people have them. You can buy them on the internet for a few quid.’
‘Why was Colette suspicious of him?’
‘He was standing at the door and he made several phone calls. Then somebody came out of the building and he slipped inside before the door closed. The police spoke to everyone who worked late, but nobody knew anything about him. Scary, isn’t it? A murderer standing right beside her. I know the police said lots of people have those phone covers but I’ve never seen one. Have you?’
Aoife shook her head.
‘I watch every man who comes in here and if any of them takes out a phone like that, I’m calling the police. You can’t be too careful these days. The world is full of nutters.’
*
‘Joe’s away from his desk at the moment, can I get him to phone you?’ Aoife hung up and scribbled a note. ‘Where’s Joe this morning?’
‘In the canteen,’ Rachel said. ‘He was in Venice at the weekend and he’s been going on and on about it since he got in. Who was that?’
‘A1 Software.’
The phone rang again.
‘Honestly, does Joe think I’m going to take all the calls while he gossips in the canteen?’ Rachel grumbled, leaving Aoife to answer the phone.
Twenty minutes later Joe returned, a huge grin on his face.
‘Look what I got yous.’ He took eight giant bars of Swiss chocolate from his desk and handed them around.
‘Thanks, Joe. That’s just what I need on a Monday morning. I’ll make the tea. Oh, I almost forgot, A1 Software phoned.’
‘Yeah?’ Joe held up five giant Toblerones. ‘I got yous these as well. They were dirt cheap. What did A1 want?’
‘They didn’t say. They asked if you had a nice holiday.’
The Toblerones landed on the desk with a thump. ‘What the fuck business is it of theirs what kind of holiday I had?’
Aoife stared. Before she could think of an appropriate response, Rachel said, ‘What’s the matter with you?’
‘Nothing. Sorry, Aoife. I must be jet-lagged.’
‘It’s okay.’
Aoife tried to hide her annoyance by making tea for everyone. The unexpected treat cheered Rachel considerably, but Joe didn’t say another word for the rest of the day.
*
Despite assuring Maura that Jason would have no objection to her night out, it was Friday morning before Aoife plucked up the courage to raise the subject.
‘It’s only one night, Jason. Maura’s taking Amy. It’ll give you a chance to meet up with your friends. You never go out with them any more.’
‘I work hard so you can spend time with Amy, not so you can go on boozing sessions with strangers.’
‘They’re not strangers and it’s not a boozing session. I’m going for one or two drinks with the guys from work. If you like, I’ll just drink mineral water. That won’t cost much.’
‘Everything costs a fortune in a pub. Who’s going to be there?’
‘I don’t know exactly. Eilis invited everyone to meet her in O’Briens. There should be a good crowd.’
‘So it’s going to be a real session with God knows how many people and it could go on all night.’
‘Probably, but Laura and I are only staying for a few drinks.’
‘Wouldn’t you rather spend an evening with me? If Mum has Amy, we could make a real night of it.’
‘That would be marvellous, sweetheart. Maybe next weekend?’
‘I’m working next weekend.’
‘Well, next time you’re free it’s definitely a date. I’d really love that.’
‘But you’d rather go drinking with your friends than spend time with your husband?’
‘I’d rather spend time with you, but I’ve promised now, so I can’t get out of it.’ Aoife put her arms around Jason’s neck and looked into his eyes. ‘Don’t be upset. You know you and Amy are the most important people in the world to me. The next time you’re off, we’ll have a great night. It’ll really be something to look forward to. Okay?’
It took a few minutes, but eventually Jason smiled. ‘Okay, but next time just say you’re busy. Two days a week is all of your time they’re going to get.’ He reached across her to grab his car keys, gave her a brief kiss and headed for the door. ‘I’ll collect the car from the train station and I’ll be outside the pub at ten. Don’t be late.’
‘There’s no need to collect me. Laura lives in Naas. We’re getting the train home together.’
‘I’m not having you walking ar
ound town at that hour. Maybe Laura’s husband doesn’t care what happens to her, but I want you home in one piece. We can give Laura a lift if she wants one.’
Aoife suppressed a sigh. She had planned on staying in the pub until closing time. Still, Jason was good to be so concerned. ‘Thanks, hon. I’m sure Laura would love a lift.’
*
The pub was not the great mingling opportunity Aoife had envisaged. The DCA staff had divided into three separate groups, HR in the centre, the remainder of the Dame Street staff to their left and the Stephen’s Green staff to their right. Tom, the middle-aged senior accountant, attached himself to Aoife, but Eilis was the only person moving between the groups. Aoife tried to pump Tom for information, but he was intent on an endless monologue on the evils of politicians. Thankfully Eilis joined them and pulled up a stool next to Aoife. ‘I thought you needed rescuing,’ she whispered. She tossed her waist-length chestnut hair over one shoulder and tugged at her skirt. ‘Whoever designed this skirt never had to wear it in public. It keeps trying to ride up to my hips.’
Aoife grinned. ‘It looks good, though. Makes me feel old. All I have is tatty jeans or work clothes.’
‘We’ll have to do something about that. Why don’t we go shopping next Thursday? I’ve seen a great dress that would look perfect on you.’
‘I’d like that, but I don’t have much money for clothes.’
‘Don’t worry. I know where to find all the best bargains. How do you like working in DCA?’
‘I love it. I was hoping to get a chance to meet everyone tonight, but nobody is mixing.’
‘Yeah. Nobody trusts us because we work with Robert and Dan, and everyone is nervous of Laura.’
‘Why?’
‘Now she’s taken over from Delia, she must be working on the redundancies.’
‘What redundancies?’
‘The day Delia died, Joe overheard Delia and Dan discussing redundancies. Now Laura’s in charge of HR, she must be the one deciding who’ll be let go.’
‘Did you ask her?’
‘I haven’t spoken to her since the night Delia was murdered.’
‘You mean after her body was discovered?’
‘No, the Friday Delia died, we all met here after work. Everyone thought either HR or Accounts must be working on the redundancy figures and we wanted to pool information, but nobody knew anything about it.’
‘You were all in the pub the night Delia died?’
‘Yeah. Good thing we were. Otherwise we would all have been suspects.’
Tom had been speaking to Rachel, but when she refused to allow him to dominate the conversation, he turned his attention to Eilis. ‘Only the men are suspects,’ he said. ‘Some more than others, I’m sure.’
‘Why aren’t the women suspects?’
‘Well, you should know, Aoife. You were the one who found the body. Delia was only a small thing, but what woman would have the strength to string up her body like that?’
Aoife looked at the others. Rachel and Laura were chatting. Tom was staring at his mobile phone, but from the stillness of his body and the way his head tilted in their direction, it was obvious he was eavesdropping.
‘What do you think, Tom?’ she asked.
‘Huh?’
‘Do you think Delia’s murderer was a man?’
‘Your guess is as good as mine.’
‘Who do you think killed her?’
‘How would I know?’
‘You’d have a better idea than us,’ Eilis said. ‘Tom and I barely knew her.’
‘Lucky you.’
Laura and Rachel stopped talking mid-sentence. Laura glared at Joe, and Rachel looked around to see if anyone had overheard. Eilis leaned across the table and whispered, ‘Don’t say things like that in front of this lot. You know what they’re like.’
‘I don’t give a f—’ He stood up. ‘The hell with it. I’m out of here.’
Laura put a hand on his arm. ‘No, you’re not. I’m getting you another drink and we’re all going to relax.’
‘Do you think Delia was murdered by a stranger?’ Aoife asked when Laura had gone.
‘I hope not. There were people a lot closer to her who deserved the privilege.’ Joe’s voice was a little slurred.
Rachel frowned at him, then turned to Eilis. ‘Remember the time she insisted we phone the airport and ask them to delay the plane because she was running late?’
‘I didn’t hear that one. What did the airport say?’
‘I didn’t phone. I told her I did, but what was the point? I’d only be making an idiot of myself and the airport wouldn’t pay any attention. Luckily she made the plane, so she never found out.’
Joe snorted and muttered something, but he was drowned out by Rachel’s ‘Remember the heels?’
‘Oh Lord, yes,’ they both laughed.
‘What?’ Aoife asked
Rachel grinned. ‘Did you know Delia was only five foot? Well, it must be really difficult intimidating people who tower over you, so she tottered around in six-inch heels. Her feet must have been killing her.’
‘Good thing someone found a faster way of putting us out of our misery.’
There was an awkward silence. Laura returned, handed a beer to Joe and looked around. ‘What? Are you still talking about Delia?’
‘Did everyone hate her?’ Aoife asked.
‘We—’ Rachel gave her a warning look but Laura continued. ‘We didn’t like her, but I wouldn’t say we hated her.’
‘That wasn’t my impression,’ Tom said. ‘You didn’t even want to be in the same building as her. Manor House was deserted every Friday at four thirty-one. You all tore out of the place like the hounds of hell were after you.’
‘That’s when she worked until midnight, right?’ Aoife asked. ‘She worked late other nights too, didn’t she?’
Joe drained half his glass in one gulp. ‘Nope. Said she couldn’t ’cos of the kid.’
‘How do we know she worked until midnight?’ Rachel said. ‘No one ever saw her there.’
Tom swished the mouthful of brandy that remained in his glass. ‘Why would she lie about it?’
‘Because she wanted everyone to think she was such a hard worker. I bet she only let us leave early on Fridays so nobody would know she didn’t stay very late at all. I’d be surprised if she stayed longer than an hour.’
‘Well, she was there around six,’ Eilis said. ‘The papers said that’s the estimated time of death.’
Tom folded his arms. ‘Has anyone considered that she might have been murdered by one of us? I’ll bet the police have, and I bet they have a pretty good idea who the likely murderer is. But then who doesn’t?’
*
There was a shocked silence broken by Laura’s exaggerated yawn. ‘I am so sick of talking about Delia. This is my first night out in years. I want to talk about something interesting. Eilis, I have to live vicariously these days. What nightclub are you going on to?’
The conversation moved to a discussion of the merits of their many options. Aoife made several attempts to turn the conversation to Delia. Tom seemed anxious to oblige, but Laura, Eilis or Rachel always changed the subject. As she and Laura were leaving the pub, Aoife said, ‘What did Tom mean by “everyone knows who the murderer is”?’
‘Don’t mind him. Tom would say anything to be the centre of attention.’
*
‘Bye, Laura, nice meeting you,’ Jason said. ‘Well, what happened?’ he demanded as he pulled into the traffic.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Why were you fifteen minutes late? I had to drive around in a circle twice because people kept beeping at me. You’re so selfish, Aoife. You didn’t care that I was sitting in a freezing car waiting for you.’
‘I’m sorry, honey. I set the alarm on my phone but I didn’t hear it over all the noise. I left the minute I noticed the time. Were you very cold?’ Aoife reached out to touch his hand but Jason jerked it away.
‘Yes,’ he
said and coughed. Not very convincingly, Aoife thought, but she couldn’t blame him for being angry. Jason had no patience, and waiting for anyone was torture to him.
‘You go to bed the minute we get home and I’ll bring you up a nice hot drink,’ she said.
‘I hope I’m not coming down with something.’
‘Maybe you should stay in bed tomorrow. Just to make sure you recover fully.’
She watched him anxiously. Jason’s shoulders relaxed a little.
‘That might be for the best. Did you have a good night?’
‘Yes. It was great getting to know everybody. There were several from the head office I hadn’t met before.’
‘Who?’
‘Some people from Accounts. Eilis and Tom and a few others. I’ve forgotten their names.’
Jason’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel.
‘What’s he like, this Tom guy?’
‘A bit boring, but nice. He invited me to his wedding. He and some guy whose name I’ve forgotten are getting married next year.’
‘Oh! Well, it’s over now. There’ll be no more going out with work. Right?’
‘Right. I’d much rather spend my time with you and Amy.’
Aoife felt guilty lying about Tom’s sexuality, but it wouldn’t make any difference if she explained that Tom was no threat, that Jason was younger, fitter and had more hair. Jason would still worry needlessly, and she didn’t have the energy to spend hours trying to convince him she had no interest in other men.
*
Aoife and Irene had agreed to meet at lunchtime on Monday to discuss Aoife’s investigation.
‘So far I’ve discovered that the Stephen’s Green and Dame Street staff were in the pub the night Delia was murdered, so we can rule them out. No managers came, so they’re still suspects.’
‘Couldn’t someone have slipped out of the pub without being noticed?’
‘Is it likely someone would slip out, murder Delia and then return to the pub? Only a psychopath could do that.’
‘Maybe one of them is a psychopath.’
‘I doubt it. The other thing I discovered is Delia only worked late on Fridays. That leaves several hours each week unaccounted for. The police may be right about her being involved with a man.’
