No Easy Answer

by Valerie Keogh

  ‘You really prefer that to this?’ Mike picked up the first ring and held it beside the one she wore. ‘There’s no comparison.’

  ‘Perhaps I’ll leave you for a moment to discuss it,’ the assistant said before vanishing.

  ‘Look,’ Mike said, pulling the small solitaire from her hand and slipping the other one on. ‘It suits you so much better. Strong and beautiful.’

  Edel couldn’t take her eyes from it. ‘It’s lovely… but it must cost a fortune.’

  ‘So, I’ll sell the house.’ He laughed when he saw her face. ‘I’m kidding! Seriously, I can afford whatever it costs.’

  ‘It could be several thousand euro,’ she said, annoyed with herself for weakening. But it was so beautiful.

  ‘I tell you what,’ Mike said, taking her hand in his. ‘How about we reach a compromise. If it’s more than ten K, you choose something else. Less than that and we get it.’

  Edel narrowed her eyes. She wasn’t sure where the compromise was there. She looked at the ring on her hand, held it up to the light and knew she wanted it.

  The assistant sidled along the counter. ‘I see you’ve decided.’

  ‘Not quite,’ Edel said firmly.

  ‘My fiancée is concerned about the cost,’ West said. ‘So we’ve come to a compromise.’

  ‘Excellent.’ The assistant took it in his stride and without asking what the compromise was, reached behind him for a notebook. He took a pen from his pocket, scribbled a figure on the page and with dramatic flair tore the sheet from the pad, folded it and slid it across towards West.

  Edel watched with a wary eye as Mike unfolded the page. It would have been simpler, surely, for the assistant to tell them but she bit her tongue and played the game the way she supposed it was usually played.

  ‘That’s fine,’ West said.

  ‘Not quite,’ Edel said, reaching for the paper. There was a moment’s duelling before Mike handed it over. She unfolded it and swallowed the gasp. Eight thousand euro. For a ring. She opened her mouth to argue but caught Mike’s eyes and shut it again. They had agreed on a compromise. It was less than ten K. ‘Yes, thank you, it is stunning.’

  Since it fit perfectly, all that was needed was for Mike to hand over his credit card.

  ‘Now, if you’ll allow me,’ the assistant said, when that was done and the card returned, ‘I’ll take the ring back for a final polish.’

  ‘It looks perfect,’ Edel said, reluctant now to remove it.

  ‘I will make it sparkle even better; I promise you.’

  There seemed no point in arguing so she slipped the ring from her finger and handed it to him.

  ‘It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen,’ she whispered to Mike as they waited for him to return.

  ‘Perfectly matched then.’ He leaned forward and planted a kiss on her cheek.

  A few minutes later the assistant returned. ‘Now, see, more beautiful!’

  Edel didn’t notice any difference but for politeness agreed that it was as he slipped the ring back onto her finger. ‘Thank you.’

  The assistant shook hands with them both and wished them well before hurrying around the counter to see them to the door. He was delayed momentarily by one of his colleagues, leaving Edel and West standing in the middle of the shop.

  Edel was surprised when Mike nodded to the person sitting in the chair behind and saw a middle-aged man staring bad-temperedly at them. Her faint smile didn’t have any effect and she looked away, unwilling to have anything spoil her pleasure.

  ‘My apologies,’ the assistant said, hurrying toward them. He opened the door, thanked them for their custom and wished them a happy future.

  ‘We’re going to have a very happy future,’ Edel said, linking her arm through Mike’s, flicking her hand backwards and forwards to make the diamond sparkle. ‘It’s so beautiful.’

  They strolled back up Grafton Street and had time for a walk around Stephen’s Green before heading for the Shelbourne Hotel where Mike had booked a table for lunch. Edel mentally congratulated herself on dressing for the part as the maître d’ led them to their table where a bottle of champagne sat in an ice bucket waiting to be popped. It was all so perfect; she couldn’t stop smiling.

  Conversation was light and cheerful and frequently touched on how stunning the engagement ring was. ‘It was crazily expensive, Mike.’ Edel held out her hand, admiring how the diamond glinted under the Shelbourne’s huge chandeliers.

  ‘It’s worth it to see you happy.’

  ‘I’d have been happy with a brass ring as long as I’m marrying you.’

  ‘Now she tells me,’ Mike said, raising his eyes to the ceiling.

  It wasn’t until the coffee was served that Edel remembered the man in the jewellers. ‘Who was the man you nodded hello to? Not one of the criminal fraternity, I hope.’

  ‘No, a man whose elderly cousin was killed in a hit-and-run recently. He’s been pressurising us to find the person responsible.’

  ‘Ah, I see now. He was giving you a terrible look. I suppose he was thinking you should be out finding the driver rather than cavorting with me.’

  ‘Probably. He’s not a particularly pleasant man to deal with.’

  ‘He certainly seemed unfriendly,’ Edel said. ‘He’s got expensive taste though.’ She saw a spark of interest on Mike’s face. ‘I was doing some research for one of my characters the other day. I wanted to know what kind of watch he’d wear so I was looking up Rolex. I heard your friend say he’d take the watch he was trying on as we were leaving.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘It caught my attention because it was exactly the one that I decided my over-the-top character would wear. You’re talking around eighteen K for that, Mike.’

  ‘Eighteen thousand euro for a watch!’

  Edel laughed, held out her hand and wiggled her ring finger. ‘Well, you paid eight thousand for a ring.’

  ‘And it was worth it.’ He reached for her hand and held it tightly, his thumb brushing over the ring.

  ‘Maybe he thinks the watch is. What’s worrying you about it? And don’t say nothing, I can see it in your eyes.’

  West shrugged. ‘It’s probably nothing but his cousin was killed on Wednesday, and now he’s in buying an expensive watch. Just seems a bit off to me.’

  ‘Maybe it’s his birthday and it had been planned for a while.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘Time enough to go back to being crime writer and detective garda tomorrow night. Let’s stay in fiancée/ fiancé mode a little longer, okay?’

  And for the rest of the weekend, that’s what they did.

  5

  West might have given the impression that he’d forgotten about Darragh Checkley’s purchase of an expensive Rolex, but he hadn’t. It bothered him and he wasn’t sure if it was simply because the man was an obnoxious boor or whether it was something else.

  He toyed with the idea of looking into the man’s finances but he had no justifiable reason for doing such a thing and he wasn’t a man who bent the rules for his own purposes. Anyway, on Monday morning he had more important things to do. First thing was to return a call from Detective Garda Sergeant Maddison. He hoped the garda technical team leader was going to have good news for him.

  His call was answered straight away but that was the last of the good news.

  ‘Four bodies. Complete apart from the heads,’ Maddison said. ‘At a guess, I’d say an older male and female and two younger, also male and female. We finished emptying the container late yesterday and that was it.’

  ‘No damn heads,’ West said. ‘That’s great. So, they might turn up somewhere else.’

  ‘Or maybe the killer kept them.’

  ‘Like trophies?’

  ‘Both Ted Bundy and Jeffrey Dahmer did, so it’s not unheard of,’ Maddison said. ‘Four dead bodies, Mike, it looks to me like you’ve a serial killer to find.’

  West hung up and sat back. Four bodies. He supposed he should be grateful they hadn’t found more. He checked his watch and reached for
the phone. It was answered almost immediately by the efficient administrator in the Office of the State Pathologist. ‘May I speak to Dr Kennedy, please?’

  He was left listening to music that would have appealed to Andrews but which set his teeth on edge. ‘They’re playing your song,’ he said, holding the phone out when Andrews walked through the door seconds later.

  ‘‘Ring of Fire’, one of Johnny Cash’s best.’

  West grunted then waved his hand at him to be quiet. ‘Good morning, Niall.’

  ‘Whatever it is, the answer is no,’ the gruff voice replied. ‘The post-mortem of that poor soul Muriel Hennessy will be at eleven tomorrow if that’s what you’re ringing for.’

  ‘No, I hadn’t planned to attend,’ West said. It was a cut-and-dried case with no crime element to involve the detective unit; he didn’t feel an obligation to go. ‘I’m ringing about the body parts that were found in the recycling container. I was speaking to Maddison; he tells me they’re finished on site.’

  ‘Yes, he was kind enough to leave me a message to say they’d not found any further parts.’ A long sigh came down the phone. ‘The skulls are missing, though, so I suppose you’re thinking about a serial killer keeping trophies à la Ted Bundy and Jeffrey Dahmer?’

  Everyone knew the stories. West guessed he’d be tired hearing those two infamous names before this case was done. ‘Yes, but we don’t want to jump the gun. Both Andrews and I thought there was something odd about those body parts. Maddison seems convinced they’re real, but I’m not so sure so until we have confirmation from you we’re keeping a lid on it.’

  ‘Fine, no pressure then,’ Kennedy said with heavy sarcasm. ‘Okay.’ He sighed, relenting as he often did. ‘I’ll get onto them as soon as I have the post done.’

  ‘Good, well I might drop over to Drumcondra this afternoon and see what’s what. If that’s okay with you?’

  ‘Sure. Stop in Thunders on your way. I like their meringues.’

  With a promise to arrive with supplies, West hung up. ‘If I hear Ted Bundy or Jeffrey Dahmer’s name mentioned again today, I’ll scream.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Andrews, sitting on the chair opposite and crossing his ankle over his knee. ‘They didn’t find the heads then, I take it.’

  ‘No. Hence the trophy idea from Maddison and Kennedy.’ West ran a hand over his hair. ‘I know we have more to be doing than going out looking for problems–’

  ‘But?’ Andrews interrupted. ‘What maggot have you got in your head now?’

  ‘Checkley.’

  The name made Andrews grimace. ‘Apart from being a troublesome git, what’s he done to you.’

  ‘It’s probably nothing. But he is making such a fuss with his demands that we find his cousin’s killer that I didn’t expect to see him in Debeerds on Saturday.’

  ‘Debeerds. Well now, I suppose we’ll be seeing a big sparkler on Edel’s hand when she’s in next.’ Andrews folded his arms across his chest. ‘So what was the charming Checkley doing in there?’

  ‘Paying eighteen grand for a Rolex.’

  Andrews whistled softly. ‘That’s a hefty sum.’

  ‘Less than three days after his beloved cousin was killed so tragically.’

  ‘Do I hear a tinge of sarcasm there?’

  ‘More than a trace,’ West said with a grin that faded. ‘Something about him is off.’ He tapped his hand on the desk. ‘You’re going to think this is odd but–’

  ‘I knew it!’ Andrews threw his hands in the air. ‘You’ve got a maggot in your brain.’

  ‘Hear me out.’ West tried to put the idea that had come to him when he woke that morning into words that would convince his sceptical partner. ‘Checkley has gone out of his way to be particularly obnoxious. So much so that we’ve had little time for him and would be delighted to shut the hit-and-run case down as soon as possible by either solving it or having it slide into the cold-case pile. True?’

  ‘Maybe. The hit-and-run isn’t going anywhere. The lads have followed up every angle. We have notifications with every garage within a thirty-mile radius on the off chance some damage was sustained.’ Andrews held his hands up again, this time in defeat. ‘Unless someone knows something and comes forward–’

  ‘Exactly,’ West said, leaning towards him. ‘It’ll get shelved and we’ll all be relieved not to have to deal with Darragh Checkley again.’

  Andrews frowned. ‘So what are you saying? That he’s being particularly rude and offensive so that we give up more easily?’

  ‘It’s human nature to try more for people we like and less for people we don’t.’

  ‘We’d do our job regardless.’

  ‘Yes, but not necessarily go that extra mile.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Andrews conceded. ‘But I’m still not sure what you’re getting at.’

  West sat back and linked his hands on his head. ‘There’s something. Maybe there’s a reason he wants to keep us at a distance.’ He blinked as a thought came to him. ‘Maybe there’s a good reason why we haven’t found that hit-and-run driver, Peter.’ His hands dropped to the desk, fingers drumming the table as he tried to make sense of the ideas that were spinning in his head. ‘Lynda Checkley says she saw Doris lying on the side of the road, stopped her car and ran to help.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What if she saw her before that… what if she saw her crossing the road and took advantage of an opportunity to get rid of her?’

  Andrews said nothing for a moment, his eyes narrowed in thought. ‘Nobody questioned her story so nobody checked her car and there wasn’t likely to be obvious damage to draw attention. By all accounts, the old lady was frail. It wouldn’t have taken much to have sent her flying.’ He nodded slowly. ‘I know the house Doris Whitaker lived in. One of those huge, detached houses on Torquay Road. Worth a few million I’d say. And I’m guessing Darragh Checkley is her next of kin.’

  ‘Money as motive. It’s always a good one.’ West slapped the table with the palm of his hand. ‘I think we’re on to something. It’s certainly enough to justify looking closer at the Checkleys.’

  They’d look closer, and they’d find something. West was convinced of it.

  6

  West managed to get parking directly outside Thunder’s cake shop in Drumcondra. He pushed open the door into the small shop and took a deep breath. The combination of aromas had the usual effect, his mouth watered and he wanted to buy everything in the shop.

  He settled for two huge meringues, each sandwiched to its equally large partner by a mass of thick cream that oozed as the shop assistant picked them up. Then, because West couldn’t resist, he added a loaf of bread and a fruit cake for home, and a box of small cakes that would be devoured by the team when he got back to Foxrock.

  With the neatly tied boxes dangling from his fingers and the bread and fruit cake under one arm, he opened the car door with difficulty and slid inside.

  The Office of the State Pathologist was situated in a red-brick building on the corner of Griffith Avenue and the Swords Road. For decades, it had been Whitehall Garda Station and even to this day, Kennedy had told him, they had people knocking on their door looking for the gardaí.

  There was a car park at the rear but there was rarely space. West didn’t bother trying, instead he drove along Griffith Avenue and found a space near Corpus Christi Church. He parked his car and walked back.

  Kennedy was hammering the keys of his laptop when West knocked on his office door.

  ‘Come in as long as you’re carrying something from Thunders,’ Kennedy sang out without raising his eyes or stopping his fingers. ‘Just let me finish this damn report and I’ll be with you.’

  A coffee machine gurgled in the corner filling the room with the aroma. West cleared a corner of the desk for the cake box. He’d been in the office enough times to know where everything was kept and opened the cupboard to take down a couple of mugs.

  ‘That’s it,’ Kennedy said. ‘Grab a couple of plates, too, Mike. I don’t want
meringue all over the place.’

  They sat in companionable silence while they worked their way through the huge meringues. ‘Lordy, I never get tired of eating them.’ Kennedy pulled a tissue from a box behind him to wipe his fingers, then threw the box to West who caught it in one hand.

  ‘Okay, now that you’ve eaten your payment, tell me what you found.’

  Kennedy picked up his mug and took a mouthful before putting it down and sitting back. ‘Well, the bad news is that they are human remains, Mike.’

  West shrugged. It was only ever a slim hope. ‘Give me the good news then.’

  ‘I’m still waiting for some results but I’m fairly confident I’m right.’ Kennedy stood and reached for the coffee pot, filling both their mugs. ‘I hope you didn’t want a simple case.’

  ‘Chance would be a fine thing but we could have done with a break.’ West sighed. ‘Come on, put me out of my misery.’

  ‘Maybe I can offer you a little break,’ Kennedy said. ‘If you were worrying about a serial killer on the loose, that is?’

  ‘It was something we were considering. Four dead bodies. What else were we to think?’

  ‘Mass murder.’ Kennedy held a hand up. ‘I don’t have all the results back but it is my considered opinion that these four people were killed within a few hours of each other. I’m also going to stick my neck out and say it’s familicide.’

  ‘Four bodies. Parents and two children?’

  ‘All I can confirm at the moment is that they’re two older and two younger adults. DNA will confirm whether they’re related or not.’

  ‘Familicide.’ West groaned. ‘I think I’d have preferred a serial killer.’

  ‘I haven’t told you the best bit yet.’

  ‘You mean there’s more?’

  ‘You mentioned you thought the body parts looked almost man-made,’ Kennedy said. ‘There was a reason for your confusion. I’m estimating that they are around–’ he see-sawed his hand, ‘–maybe fifty years old.’