by Sam Blake
Cathy paused, waiting to see if he followed it up, filled in the blanks. Like why one of his staff was staying overnight. He didn’t. ‘So you and Daniella are in a relationship?’
Farrell ran his hand through his hair, pulling at it slightly like he was worried. He picked up a heavy crystal glass from the table beside the sofa and swished the amber contents around before he answered. He took a sip and grimaced, ‘Sort of . . . Well, yes. Nothing formal, and it doesn’t really do to be dating your employees, so we needed to keep it quiet.’
Cathy was sure Daniella hadn’t been impressed with that arrangement. Maybe dating a working class girl from inner city Ballymun was the problem, even a stunning one.
‘You know she’s only seventeen?’
At least he had the decency to look a bit sheepish, ‘Eh, yes. She’s almost eighteen, though, and she’s very mature. We have a lot in common.’
Cathy raised her eyebrows slightly. She bet they did. ‘Have you been seeing her long?’
‘A couple of months. Like I said, it wasn’t formal.’ He paused as Cathy looked at him. Not formal? What the feck did that mean? He just had a quick shag when he felt like it?
‘I thought she’d started seeing someone else, actually. She usually calls during the week, but I haven’t heard from her since I saw her at the weekend.’
‘Did you try to call her?’
He shrugged, reaching for his glass, ‘Her phone went straight to voicemail. I thought she’d blown me out.’ And why would she have done that, exactly? Cathy didn’t say it out loud, instead said, ‘So just run through what happened on Saturday, did she say she was meeting anyone on the way home?’
He shook his head, ‘No, she just said she wanted to go shopping in town on the way back – I gave her some cash. She usually gets the bus.’ He paused, ‘Her grandmother’s a bit of a dragon, and I don’t think Daniella told her that we had a thing. She was never keen on me dropping her back to Ballymun in case someone saw us.’ He paused, his face strained, ‘I shouldn’t have listened to her. I should have dropped her home. Do you think someone followed her from the bus?’
Fanning sat forward on the sofa, his voice hard, ‘At this stage we’ve no idea what happened to her, we’re keeping all lines of inquiry open.’ He didn’t like Farrell. Cathy smirked to herself, Perhaps 007 wasn’t all bad.
‘We’re also investigating the disappearance of Sarah Jane Hansen, a student at DCU who also works at The Rookery.’
‘I know, that’s terrible, I saw it on the news. And then the Daily Mail called. They are always the first out of the blocks.’ He grimaced, ‘She’d only just started though, was part-time. I don’t think I ever met her.’
‘She’s a waitress, like Daniella. She started at the end of the summer. In fact we’ve reason to believe Sarah Jane and Daniella worked together and knew each other quite well. Billy Roberts didn’t think to mention it?’ Cathy’s voice was sharp.
‘No. No, he didn’t. But I’ve been out of the loop a bit the last few days . . .’
Out of the loop? Avoiding the press more like. Cathy was getting the disctinct impression that he was far more more worried about the bad publicity than what had actually happened to Daniella and Sarah Jane. Cathy took a deep breath, fighting her temper. Right now she wanted to grab Richard fecking Farrell by the neck and make a mess of his pretty face. And from the tension she could feel radiating off 007, he wouldn’t be far behind her.
Instead she smiled at him sweetly, ‘We’re going to need to take a DNA sample, for elimination purposes, if you don’t mind.’
27
The yard was packed when Fanning drove under the security barrier and swung around behind Dún Laoghaire Garda Station. The night shift was out, preparing for the bars to close, their personal cars filling the car park, punctuated with a row of riot vans and, today, a huge sailing boat. Cathy didn’t even have the headspace to work out why that was here – drug seizure, probably; she was used to seeing the unexpected, but a double-masted yacht resting on a trailer was something she hadn’t anticipated. Beyond it, Cathy’s Mini was tucked in the back corner of the car park where it would be less likely to get damaged by colleagues flinging open car doors when the shift changed at 3 a.m.
Above them, Cathy could see O’Rourke’s light was on in his office.
Fanning unclipped his safety belt, ‘I’ll get the coffee.’
Cathy glanced at the clock on the dash – it was well past eleven, ‘Sounds like a plan.’
*
Upstairs, O’Rourke was pacing. She wasn’t even through the door when he started firing questions at her, ‘So what have we got? Start with the young lad, let’s see how the pieces fit.’ He obviously wasn’t in the mood for preliminaries.
She took a moment to get everything straight in her head. She was still reeling from meeting Richard Farrell and his apparent ignorance of what went on in his restaurant. Fanning had managed to get them out of the house without her hitting him, but only just. She hadn’t spoken all the way here, fighting her need to break something.
Pushing the door closed behind her, Cathy headed for her usual perch on the window sill. The cold night air had done her good, and she was feeling a bit calmer now, but there was something about all this that didn’t quite tally in her head. If she was less tired she was sure she’d see it, but right now she felt like it was blurred and in the distance. If she ran through everything maybe they’d get there.
‘The last time Jazz O’Connor saw his sister was before she went to work on Friday. Jazz told me Daniella regularly went home to Foxrock with Richard Farrell after work on a Friday. He owns The Rookery, is Billy Roberts’s boss. There must be some serious money in food though – his house is incredible – he’s got an indoor heated swimming pool.’ O’Rourke pursed his lips, acknowledging her point as Cathy continued, ‘Farrell claims he last saw Daniella when he took her to the bus stop on the N11 on Saturday morning.’
‘He see her get on it?’
‘He parked at the stop and she waited in the car with him until it arrived, then got straight on.’
‘There are traffic cams all the way along the N11 and they have CCTV on all the buses.’
‘They sure do.’
‘Time?’
‘He reckoned around ten in the morning.’
‘I’ll talk to Dublin Bus. The team are already checking all the tapes from around The Rookery for three thirty on Sunday, to see if we can find this car the young lad – Jacob, is it? – saw. Be handy if we knew what we were looking for, of course. We’ll get them to look for Daniella leaving on Friday evening too.’
Cathy sighed, ‘His mum reckoned Jacob might have said what sort of car it was but the make didn’t register with her as something she recognised or she thinks she would have remembered. She’s working on getting him to tell her again.’
O’Rourke rolled his eyes, causing Cathy to bristle, ‘Don’t go there. It’s not Jacob’s fault. We’ll get it. Without him we’d have no idea this had happened at all.’
He pursed his lips, ‘Next move?’
Cathy pulled her phone out from her back pocket and glanced at the time. It was almost eleven thirty, ‘Actually I want to go talk to Billy Roberts again.’ As she looked at the screen, her brain sifted the information they had so far. Billy Roberts had been helpful, but . . . ‘He should be shutting up shop shortly. I want to see what he can tell us about Farrell’s relationship with Daniella. I know the team are working their way through questioning the staff, but I think he knows a lot more than he told us the last time. And I know we’ve asked him before but I want to see if he’s remembered anything about where Sarah Jane usually went for her break, see if anyone’s mentioned seeing her leave the building at three thirty. ’
At that moment the door opened and Fanning backed in carrying three mugs.
‘Timing is everything in life. I never thought I’d be pleased to see you, 007.’
O’Rourke grinned as Fanning put the mugs down o
n his desk, passing O’Rourke one, before turning to Cathy, ‘And sugar for you, Cat, although—’
‘Don’t even think it, Fanning. I’m not sweet at all.’
He opened his eyes wide, ‘Got it.’ Picking up his own mug he stood cradling it in his hand as Cathy moved to the visitors’ chair in front of O’Rourke’s desk and took a sip of her coffee. She caught O’Rourke exchanging an amused glance with Fanning. Fecking men. She wasn’t in the mood for backchat right now.
Ignoring them, Cathy opened her phone, hitting dial. A moment later someone in The Rookery picked up.
‘I need to speak to Billy Roberts. It’s Detective Garda Cathy Connolly.’
Cathy could feel O’Rourke and Fanning watching her. A few moments later she heard a familiar voice.
‘Billy? Hello, this is Garda Cathy Connolly, we’ve got a few things we need to follow up with you this evening. Can you hang on for us?’ Her tone didn’t give him an opportunity to say no. Hearing his reply she glanced at the clock on her phone again. ‘We can be with you in twenty minutes.’ She paused as he replied, then, ‘I think it needs to be tonight. We won’t keep you.’ She glanced at O’Rourke. ‘Great, we’re on the way.’
‘He not keen?’
Cathy shrugged. ‘Would you be? Long shift and then we call.’
‘Two of his employees have gone missing.’ O’Rourke’s voice was steel edged.
He didn’t need to tell her. Cathy stood up, taking another swig of her coffee, ‘Any news on the girl’s body?’
O’Rourke shook his head, ‘Early days. Saunders reckons she died of asphyxiation: he’s found semen in her oesophagus.’
‘Sex game gone wrong?’
O’Rourke rolled his eyes again, ‘Can’t speculate at this stage, but it gives us a DNA profile to work off when we have a suspect. And he’s sure she wasn’t dismembered in the mountains where we found her.’ He grimaced, ‘Not enough blood. Saunders reckons she’s been dead about four days and the decapitation was post mortem.’
‘And the rest of her?’
‘No sign yet.’ A moment of silence fell between them. Cathy knew he was thinking the same thing as her: the last time a headless corpse had been found – in a suitcase in the canal – the head had never turned up, despite the Garda investigation and then the Trojan efforts of one of Ireland’s best investigative journalists to uncover the truth – she’d almost got there, but not quite. They both knew that with no dental records or even an opportunity for facial reconstruction, identifying the body could turn out to be a waiting game. The circumstantial evidence might be strong, and when they got Daniella’s medical records and checked her blood group that could bring them a step closer, but they couldn’t assume it was Daniella O’Connor until they had a DNA match, which could take a while. It was entirely possible this girl was totally unrelated to their case; although no one else had been reported missing, it had to be said. And as Cathy had said to Fanning earlier, you’d think someone would miss a girl of that age, that she’d be top of the list of missing persons. It never ceased to amaze her how some people seemed to fall through the cracks of society.
Could you be missing if no one had lost you?
Cathy fought back the images of a girl’s violated body lying partially concealed by fallen branches and overhanging bushes on a cold lonely hillside.
She put her mug down on O’Rourke’s desk, getting ready to leave, when Fanning said, ‘Any news on Sarah Jane’s dad?’
‘CNN still haven’t found him. I’m not sure how you can just disappear in this world of modern technology.’
‘Sarah Jane has.’ Cathy hesitated, ‘The disappearances couldn’t be connected, could they?’ She tried to keep the note of panic out of her voice.
O’Rourke grimaced, ‘Let’s hope not. Her dad won the Pulitzer for an investigation into the links between organised crime and terrorism, didn’t he?’ He paused, ‘But apparently this trip he’s doing something on jihadi brides, so unless ISIS have kidnapped Sarah Jane it’s unlikely. And they are exhibitionists. We’d have had a statement or a video by now if they were involved.’ He said it matter of factly, but his eyes were far from calm as they met hers across the room, connecting them for a moment.
‘Christ.’ Cathy shivered, breaking his gaze and pulling her pendant from the neck of her sweater, running its chain across the bridge of her nose, ‘Ted disappeared before, in Afghanistan. He wasn’t captured, but his cameraman was. They were filming for Channel 4 and something went wrong. Sarah Jane couldn’t say much about it.’ Cathy paused, ‘He’s always in the middle of something. She told me he was filming the British army and almost got blown up in Sierra Leone.’
‘I think it’s an occupational hazard.’
Cathy rolled her eyes, ‘Some occupations are definitely more hazardous than others.’
28
Fanning swung into the car park behind The Rookery and pulled on the handbrake. It took them several minutes in the dark to find the door Billy Roberts had directed them to, concealed between several industrial-sized wheelie bins. It wasn’t marked, had no outside handle, was plain and almost invisible, its navy paint blending with the dark brickwork in the shadows. Only an entryphone beside it indicated there was anything on the other side.
Cathy took a step back to look around the car park, at the camera locations here and at the back of The Paradise Club, while Fanning buzzed.
Seconds later the door opened; Billy Roberts had obviously been waiting for them. He looked tired and annoyed.
The narrow corridor that led into the back of the kitchens was as brightly lit as the working area itself, and had the same grey lino on the floor. To their right, a door to the locker room was standing open, the long mirror inside catching Cathy’s pale face against her black polo neck as she passed. The next door on the left was closed but Cathy knew it was the CCTV viewing room Billy had taken herself and O’Rourke into. Billy led them into his office. The table light was on, illuminating his desk which was scattered with long rolls of till receipts, bags of coins and a form of some sort he was filling in. A huge calculator sat beside it.
‘I’m just finishing the cash.’ Sitting down behind his desk he moved the calculator and the till rolls to one side, ‘So how can I help?’
This time Cathy sat in the visitors’ chair, Fanning hanging back leaning against the wall. She wanted to see Billy Roberts’s face and reactions as she ran everything past him. She didn’t mess about with a preamble. They were all tired.
‘We’ve a witness who suggests that Sarah Jane got into a car in the car park here between three and three thirty on the afternoon of the day she disappeared. Can you shed any light on that?’
Billy shrugged, ‘Like I told you on the phone, she had her break around then. Three fifteen, I think, she often goes out to get some fresh air in the afternoon.’
‘Have you any idea who she could have been meeting?’ Cathy watched him as he shook his head. From the expression on his face, he seemed very sure he didn’t know. Cathy was about to push it but changed her mind. Instead she asked, ‘How long is her break?’
‘That one is thirty minutes. Gives everyone a chance to sit down and get something to eat. They get a longer one too but it’s later, depending what time they start work.’
‘Did she speak to you before she left?’
Billy indicated his desk, ‘I was stuck in here. It was only when she came back and I saw her in the locker room I thought she looked sick. She said she was fine, though. I pulled her off the floor and told her to sit down in here. She kept saying she’d be OK. But she really didn’t look great.’
‘Did you have any indication that she was unwell before she went out for her break?’ Cathy leaned forward in the chair. What had happened during those thirty minutes? Who had she met?
‘None at all.’ Billy shrugged again. He was getting good at it.
Cathy tried a different tack, ‘Did you have any customers on Sunday who could have been described as looking like they were
in the army? Maybe in fatigues or combats?’
Billy’s brows knitted in thought, but he shook his head, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t think so. We’re pretty formal here so I think I would have noticed. Maybe she arranged to meet whoever it was. Have you checked her phone records?’
‘We will do.’
They had already, but Cathy wasn’t about to tell Billy Roberts that. Sarah Jane hadn’t made any calls on Sunday afternoon at all. They were combing her phone records looking for calls made to unexplained numbers on previous days, but so far had drawn a blank.
‘And tell me a bit about Daniella O’Connor, I believe she works here too.’
Billy raised his eyebrows, surprised, ‘She did work here. If she shows her face here again I’ll be firing her. She’s not shown up for work all week and isn’t answering her phone. Little madam has left me right in the lurch.’
‘You don’t think there’s anything strange about that?’
‘What, her not coming to work? She’s a lovely girl, but she’s north side, you know. Not exactly university material like Sarah Jane. She’s very popular with the customers, though – pretty.’
‘Popular with the boss too, from what we hear.’
Billy looked at her archly, ‘I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I wouldn’t know anything about that.’
‘Does Richard Farrell normally date his employees or was this the first time?’
Billy pursed his lips and didn’t answer. Fanning snorted behind her. Billy Roberts was obviously starting to get on his nerves too. For someone who was supposed to be managing a restaurant he didn’t seem to keep a very close eye on his team.
She tried again, ‘Does he?’
‘He’s young, he’s good looking and he’s loaded. We have some very ambitious young ladies working here. Some very attractive young ladies. These things happen.’
‘How long had they been dating?’
Billy was about to shrug again when he caught Cathy’s eyes. ‘A couple of months, I don’t know. Daniella started getting a bit mouthy around then, complaining if her shifts didn’t suit her, wanting Friday nights off. It’s usually a sign.’
