No Easy Answer

by Valerie Keogh

  The team were stunned into silence, then everyone spoke together, a hullabaloo that made West smile. Never in a million years would he have put this together. He still couldn’t quite believe it. But the science, after all, didn’t lie.

  ‘I’m stunned,’ Andrews said.

  ‘This is unbelievable,’ Baxter and Edwards said almost at the same time.

  ‘The Checkleys almost got away with it,’ West said.

  ‘Nobody ever questioned the identification of the hit-and-run victim.’ Andrews rubbed a hand over his head, his expression bemused. ‘Lynda said it was Doris Whitaker so there was no reason to.’

  ‘But why?’ Baxter’s tone of voice suggested he was struggling to accept this bizarre turn of events.

  ‘That’s what we have to find out.’ West looked around, his eyes settling on Andrews. ‘You’ve the most meticulous brain, Peter, take us through it.’

  Andrews folded his arms across his chest. ‘On Tuesday 5th, there’s a hit-and-run. Lynda Checkley happens to be passing and identifies the woman on the road as her husband’s cousin, Doris Whitaker.

  ‘The following day, Liam Hennessy calls to visit his mother, Muriel, and finds her house empty and cold. She hadn’t been seen since the previous Sunday. A decomposing, rodent-chewed body is found on Friday. Due to the injuries, the family identify their mother from an unusual ring she always wore.’

  Baxter held up a hand. ‘Okay, so somehow, Muriel Hennessy’s ring found its way onto Doris’s body, yes?’

  ‘Lynda Checkley had time to remove it after the hit-and-run,’ Allen said.

  ‘But why did she do that?’ Gemma moved closer to the Wall and took down the photograph of the frozen woman, her face screwing up at the damage. ‘Why did they want to convince us the body in the laneway was Doris.’

  ‘Ashley Pritchard.’ Andrews slapped the desk he was sitting on, the sound falling into the silence as everyone was lost in thought.

  ‘Who?’ Edwards asked for everyone.

  ‘Doris’s solicitor.’ West reached for the phone, holding up a hand to stop further questions. ‘Dr Kennedy, please.’ The call was put on hold and West took the opportunity to voice yet another theory. ‘What if Doris was frozen longer than a few days?’

  ‘Like maybe three weeks,’ Andrews said. ‘Well now, that would be perfect. A five-million-euro motive for whatever the Checkleys did.’

  ‘Niall, hi, it’s Mike, sorry to be ringing you again. A quick question. Is it possible that the frozen body was kept frozen for a number of weeks?’ He listened intently. ‘Excellent, thank you. I’ll let you know when we have it all figured out.’ He hung up and took a deep breath. ‘I think we have it.’

  ‘He says it’s possible?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Andrews frowned. ‘Okay, so who visited the solicitor? Lynda Checkley would never pass for a ninety-year-old.’

  ‘They might have roped someone else in to help,’ Edwards suggested.

  ‘The more people involved, the more likely they are to be discovered. Anyway, does Darragh Checkley strike you as the sharing type?’ West paced, then stopped. ‘Of course! The department we saw Checkley coming from – they do facial prosthetics. Maybe that’s why he was there, to pay a debt.’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Gemma Ryan said. ‘I have a friend who works in RTE as a make-up artist. He uses silicone prosthetics to age characters for parts when it’s needed. He’s shown me photographs and honestly, you’d never know.’

  ‘Pritchard had never met Doris before,’ West explained. ‘It made it easier to fool him.’

  ‘No wonder he thought the ninety-year-old was so sharp,’ Andrews said with a laugh. ‘It was Lynda Checkley.’

  ‘They had the will changed to benefit them… and then what?’ Allen frowned. ‘They killed the poor old lady?’

  West tapped the post-mortem report. ‘The post-mortem indicated she died of heart disease. It may be that she died of natural causes but at an inconvenient time… she hadn’t yet changed her will in their favour.’

  ‘So instead of reporting it, they freeze the old dear and concoct this elaborate plan.’ Andrews ran a hand over his face. ‘Checkley… we knew he was a wrong ’un from the start.’

  ‘Yes,’ West said. ‘And I haven’t told you all of it yet.’

  36

  West pointed to the ghoulish photographs of the dismembered bodies and skulls. ‘Our technician friend was the same one who had previously looked for a DNA match between the bodies and the hit-and-run victim. When he discovered a match between Cara Donaldson and the victim, he used his initiative and compared the DNA from the frozen body with the dismembered bodies.’ West picked up the photograph taken at the recycling centre, the various body parts lined up in a macabre display, and fixed it beneath the rodent-damaged face of the woman they’d found in the laneway.

  ‘He found a match between the frozen woman, who we now think to be Doris Whitaker, and the younger two bodies.’

  ‘We were right.’ Baxter thumped a fist into his palm in satisfaction.

  ‘It looks like we were.’

  Allen waved a hand, his face screwed up in lines of puzzlement. ‘Have I got this right? The hit-and-run victim we thought was Doris Whitaker is really Muriel Hennessey, and the woman from the laneway, the frozen woman who we thought was Muriel, is really Doris?’

  ‘Bizarre as it sounds, that’s the way the DNA is pointing. Now we just need to prove it all. Right, first thing tomorrow I want Darragh and Lynda Checkley brought in.’ He looked at his watch and tutted. ‘Too late to get a warrant now but I’ll organise one in the morning. If Doris died from natural causes, it was probably at home since by all accounts she was a recluse, so there might be a great big body-sized freezer in her house.’

  Gemma held up a hand, colour rising in her cheeks when all eyes turned to look at her. ‘The hit-and-run. Could it have been deliberate?’

  West rubbed his eyes wearily. ‘One of the reasons Jarvis’s suspicions were raised about the frozen body initially was because Muriel Hennessy was a distance away from her house and she physically wasn’t able to walk that far. Torquay Road is further away again, two miles, maybe two and a half from her home… how did she get there? So, to answer your question, Gemma, it is certainly suspicious.’ He looked around. ‘We’ve a lot of work to do to prove any of this. Go home, rest, come back for a long and probably tough day tomorrow.’

  It was after nine before West pulled up outside his house. He’d rang earlier to warn Edel he’d be late. Usually, she’d have dinner and keep him something to heat up when he got in but that night, the table was set and there was no sign of her.

  The sound of music drifted down from the room where she worked. He took the stairs slowly, the tangled cases weighing heavily on his mind and pressing him down.

  Edel turned as he opened the door.

  ‘Hi.’ She held up her left hand… no sign of the ring, he noticed… to stop him. ‘One sec, I need to get this down.’ Then she stood and stepped forward, putting an arm around his neck. ‘You look exhausted. Rough day?’

  ‘I’ll tell you about it over dinner since it looks as though you’ve not eaten.’

  ‘I was on a roll and didn’t want to stop. This book is really starting to take shape.’ She pulled away. ‘I put a lamb casserole in the slow cooker. It’s going to be very, very well done.’

  It was, but it was delicious. ‘Perfect,’ West said.

  ‘Luckily.’ She laughed. ‘Right, now tell me, have you sorted out your crazy cases?’

  Crazy cases… now reduced to one unbelievably crazy one. ‘It’s become a little more complicated.’ Maybe explaining would get it clear in his head. It would also be a good practice run for telling Inspector Morrison in the morning. ‘Okay, here’s what we know…’

  When he finished, Edel’s round-eyed look of disbelief made him laugh. ‘Yes, I know, unbelievable, isn’t it?’

  ‘Put it this way, if I wrote a story anywhere near as convoluted and incredible as that,
readers would leave me a slew of one-star reviews.’

  ‘You can’t beat real life for throwing an interesting spin on things.’ Tilting his plate, he spooned up the remainder of the gravy. ‘That was delicious, thank you. Don’t forget, tomorrow night we’re going to the Italian.’

  ‘Are you sure? It sounds like you’re going to have a tough day. That Checkley guy doesn’t seem like he’s going to make it easy.’

  ‘Whatever happens, I’ll be home in time for us to go to the Italian at 7.30pm.’ For once, he was going to put his personal life above his job. He stared at Edel’s naked ring finger. Tomorrow… everything was set.

  37

  West had arranged to meet Andrews, Baxter and Edwards in Foxrock Station car park at 7.30am. As usual he was early but when he pulled in at 7.20am they were already there. Andrews sitting in his car, probably listening to country music; Edwards and Baxter deep in conversation that stopped when West pulled up. ‘My bad habits are rubbing off on you, I see.’

  Andrews got out of his car and stretched, yawning widely. ‘I don’t know about the rest of you, but I barely slept with this deranged case running through my head.’

  ‘I stayed with Edwards last night.’ Baxter explained his early arrival. ‘Tanya doesn’t mind and I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss this.’

  ‘Good. Right, you and Edwards take Lynda Checkley in. Andrews and I will bring in Darragh. The provisional charge is the concealment of a death and the false identification of a corpse with intent to defraud. I don’t have to tell you not to forget to read Lynda her rights. Everything by the book, okay?’ West waited for their agreement before continuing. ‘We’ll meet up outside their house and decide then how to proceed.’

  It was a little after 7.45am when they pulled into the driveway of the Checkley house. A security light set high on the corner of the house lit up the drive. It went off a minute later when nobody got out.

  West switched the engine off and surveyed the house. Dark windows stared blindly back. ‘They’re not early risers, are they? Let’s wait until they’re ready to leave.’

  Edwards and Baxter were parked next to them awaiting instructions. Andrews sent a text, Wait. He put his mobile away and glanced at West. ‘You don’t think we should move now and catch them totally off guard?’

  West undid his seat belt and stretched. ‘No. We’d have to let them dress; they’d have an opportunity then to talk. I’d prefer to catch them by surprise and immediately separate them before either could reassure the other.’

  ‘Good point.’ Andrews pushed the seat back to get more leg room. ‘You going to talk to Morrison when we get back?’

  ‘Yes, I’m hoping he’ll organise a search warrant for Doris Whitaker’s home while we’re interviewing them.’

  ‘I’d like to be a fly on the wall when you tell him.’

  ‘I have it planned.’ West laughed. ‘What does Mother love more than anything? Cases closed, yes?’

  ‘As you’ve always said, it’s his raison d’être.’

  Andrews pronounced the phrase so perfectly, West guessed he’d been practising and waiting for an opportunity to use it. ‘Yes, that’s exactly right. He lives to have the cases closed so he can add them to his precious statistics. When I call around later this morning and tell him that not only do I have one case solved for him, but three, he’ll be ecstatic.’

  ‘Then you’ll tell him what the cases are, and his ecstasy will turn to disbelief!’

  ‘I can see his face already.’

  Andrews held his forefingers out in front of him, brought them together and wriggled the combined duo. ‘His eyebrows will come together like some fierce giant caterpillar and he’ll glare at you from under them.’

  ‘Then use words like ridiculous–’

  ‘Preposterous,’ Andrews suggested.

  ‘Maybe ludicrous.’ A light from the house caught his eye. ‘They’re waking.’ He checked his watch. ‘8.05. Shouldn’t be long now.’

  It wasn’t. Twenty minutes later, the front door opened, and Lynda Checkley stepped out. Her car was parked directly outside. She didn’t look past it, aiming her car key to unlock, the sound loud in the quiet of the morning.

  It was the signal for the detectives to move.

  Lynda stopped with her hand on the car door and looked up in alarm as all four men approached. ‘Goodness. To what do we owe this honour?’ Alarm made her words sharp, but nervousness made her eyes shift from one to the other and back to the house. ‘Do you want to speak to me or to Darragh?’ She raised a slim wrist and looked at her watch. ‘It really isn’t convenient for me, I’m afraid.’

  ‘That’s unfortunate,’ West said. ‘We need you to come down to the station to help us with our enquiries. Detective Garda Baxter and Edwards will escort you.’

  Lynda paled and leaned against the car. Caught off guard, she struggled and failed to find anything to say.

  West waited until she was seated in the back of Baxter’s car before he and Andrews stepped up to the front door. ‘I doubt Darragh will remain so quiet,’ West said. He peered through the glass panel of the door. There was nothing to be seen and he pressed the doorbell.

  Baxter and Edwards had driven away before their repeated ring succeeded. A visibly irate Darragh Checkley pulled the door open with more energy than was required, the door banging against the wall behind. His ire didn’t lessen when he recognised the two detectives, his mouth twisting in an angry sneer. ‘There better be a damn good reason for you hammering on my door at this unearthly hour!’

  ‘There is,’ West replied calmly. ‘We need you to come to the station to assist us with our enquiries.’

  Checkley looked over the detective’s shoulder to where his wife’s car sat. ‘Lynda?’

  ‘She’s gone with our colleagues.’

  ‘There is a good reason for this, I assume.’ Checkley’s manner was devil-may-care as he reached to tighten the knot on his grey silk tie, but a vein pulsed in his temple and his fingers trembled as they straightened the collar of his jacket.

  ‘The preliminary charges are that you concealed a death and falsely identified a corpse with intent to defraud. Other charges may be laid pending the outcome of our investigations.’

  Checkley said nothing and his expression didn’t change as Andrews read him his rights. He grunted a ‘yes’ when he was asked if he understood. ‘Before I go anywhere with you, I’m ringing my solicitor.’ He glared at them as if expecting an argument and when none came, he huffed and took out his phone. His conversation with whomever he rang was short, succinct and a couple of minutes later, he was sat in the back seat of West’s car.

  In Foxrock Station, with Lynda Checkley in the Other One, Darragh was escorted to the Big One. ‘Take a seat,’ West said. ‘Can I get you some coffee?’

  Checkley sat rigidly upright, folded his arms across his chest and glared at him. ‘Earl Grey tea.’

  ‘No problem.’

  Outside, Andrews rolled his eyes. ‘Earl Grey tea!’

  ‘They have some in the canteen. I think it’s been there for decades but he won’t know that.’

  Baxter came from the Other One, Edwards trailing behind. ‘She wants a solicitor.’

  West jerked his thumb at the door. ‘Checkley has phoned, they’re sending one for each of them so we’ll have to wait till they arrive. I’m going to update the inspector and I’ll ask him to organise a warrant for Doris Whitaker’s house.’ He checked his watch. ‘Allen and Ryan are heading into the Mater to speak to the person in charge of the department of anaplastology. Hopefully, they’ll get confirmation that some facial prosthetics were made for the Checkleys.’ He looked around at the intent faces. ‘We’re getting there but we need to play this bit carefully.’

  With a wave he was gone, taking the back stairs two at a time. Inspector Morrison’s office door was open. The inspector had obviously only arrived, still wearing a coat and a wool hat pulled down over his ears. He pulled it off when he saw West at the door and smoothed
a hand over his flyaway hair.

  ‘I hope you’re not a harbinger of doom,’ Morrison said as he took off his coat and hung it from a hook on the back of the door. ‘Of course, it could be that you’re coming to see me this early to let me end my week with some good news.’ The chair rocked and squeaked as he sat heavily.

  West dredged up a smile. ‘That’s more or less what I came to tell you. We’re hoping to close all three of those odd cases we’ve been battling with recently.’

  Unfortunately for West’s plan, Morrison focused on the words more or less rather than close and his eyebrows joined in one giant hairy line. ‘I have a bad feeling about this. Tell me.’

  West did, trying to keep the report from becoming more tangled as he spoke. He watched the inspector drop his face into his hand and rub his eyes. ‘We’re hoping when we get a warrant to search Doris Whitaker’s house we’ll find the freezer that was used. It should all fall into place then.’

  ‘Should it?’ Morrison lifted his face and glared at him.

  West took some consolation from the fact that the eyebrows had separated into individual parts. ‘We have the Checkleys for falsely identifying Muriel Hennessy. If we find the freezer, we’ll be able to make a case for their part in freezing Doris Whitaker–’

  ‘But not killing her?’

  ‘Probably not. I’m guessing she died of natural causes and they were using the death for their own ends. They used the prosthetics to pass Lynda off as Doris to change the will in Darragh’s favour.’

  Morrison squeezed his eyes shut for a second. ‘Okay, I can see why they’d want a few weeks to pass between the will being changed and Doris’s body being found but what I can’t understand… why didn’t they simply dispose of the body somehow?’

  ‘Because they couldn’t. If they’d simply reported her missing, it would have taken years to inherit. They were in a quandary, because if they’d left her frozen body to thaw, then rang to report that she’d passed away, there’d have been a post-mortem and the freezing may have been discovered. Their game would have been up.’ West rested a shoulder against the wall. ‘They needed a dead Doris Whitaker to inherit and a fresh body to identify as her. Somehow, they came across Muriel Hennessy.’