Deadly Intent (35 page)

A whole battery of garda interviews had followed the arrest of Darina and Fergus at Carraig Álainn. Sal spent two days in Bantry Hospital for observation but was recovering well, and Ronan was getting bored of stun gun games. On Tuesday night, Zoe came to dinner at Cnoc Meala and picked at every detail of the case, to figure out how they could have solved it sooner. She was as voluble as ever, declaiming about that day's news of an agreement with the crew of the Russian ship in Castletownbere, and how it just showed it was always worth fighting for your rights. By the time her taxi arrived after midnight, Nessa and Patrick were happy to wave her farewell, no matter how sincerely they admired her causes.

‘So Sal's gone off for a heart-to-heart with Marcus, is that the idea?' asked Caitlín as she sat down slowly on her side of the bar. ‘But not at Carraig Álainn, I presume?'

‘Most definitely not. She says she'll never go near the place again. But in any case, Patrick and I wouldn't allow it. We took some persuasion to let her meet him at all, as you'd imagine.'

‘Where's the romantic tryst taking place, then?'

‘Down at the hotel, or most likely they'll go walking on the beach to get away from prying eyes.'

‘God help her, poor kid, after all she's been through. Do you think she's wise to his charms by now?'

‘I don't know, Caitlín. She says she just wants to find out why he disappeared without trace for a fortnight.'

Caitlín picked up a cloth and wiped the countertop absently. ‘I suppose it's fair to say that Marcus did the right thing when it mattered most?'

‘Well, that's true, but I don't think he'll get a free pardon for his growhouse operations, all the same.' Nessa dropped her voice, even though there were only a few customers in the bar. ‘I saw Conor yesterday, and he told me off the record that all the attics had been used for the same purpose, and maybe the living rooms too.'

‘The lure of quick money, and more exciting than plain old tourism?'

‘No doubt. Conor said that the first time he and Redmond went to Carraig Álainn, Carl drove off in a hurry, probably with a van-load of plants.'

‘They were up to the same caper in Clonakilty, according to a friend of a cousin of mine who lives near Carl's apartments in the town. She reckoned the furniture removal business was a handy one, to shift their products hither and yonder.'

‘If Darina had copped what they were up to, she could have twisted their arms to make sure they got her out of Beara, and across to France.'

O'Donovan's door was pushed open and Sal walked in. She glanced around quickly before making a beeline for the corner of the bar. She was clutching a small red handbag which matched her woollen hat.

‘He's such an eejit,' she said without preamble. ‘Seriously handsome, of course, but a dimwit, all in all.'

Nessa murmured neutrally as she pulled over a second stool beside her own. Caitlín poured a soft drink, guessing that Sal would not request alcohol in her mother's presence.

‘Shrooms,' Sal said flatly. ‘Mushies. Magic mushrooms, whatever you want to call them, that's what did for Marcus. Bad trip, surprise, surprise. He couldn't sit still or think straight, and then he got paranoid and horribly aggressive.'

‘And how long did that last? Hardly a whole fortnight?'

‘No, but it did last for days. He thought he'd calm down if he swigged vodka, but instead he just got worse.'

‘And is that why he didn't phone you all that time, love?'

‘He says he couldn't, Mam. He had panic attacks for a week, so he stayed in a darkened room in some mate's house, hoping he hadn't, like, lost his marbles for good. And then he didn't want to admit he'd freaked, so he lay low for another week.'

‘Sounds like a scary experience for sure.'

Sal nodded, fingering her glass. ‘Yeah, but it's a pity he went berserk with Garda Joyce as well, isn't it? He says he can't remember most of it, but I don't think that will get him off in court. Anyway, it serves him right for listening to his lovely friend Katya. She was mad keen to try the stupid mushrooms with him – said she'd done it before and it was amazing.'

Nessa smiled to herself. Clearly Marcus had decided to delegate some of the responsibility for his troubles to Katya. ‘I remember you told me …' She paused to choose her words carefully. ‘I got the impression that Marcus was against taking drugs?'

‘He was against putting chemical substances in his body, that was his line. But his razor-sharp logic was that mushrooms are natural plants that grow in our very own Irish woodlands, and therefore can't possibly do us any harm.' Sal shrugged and rolled her eyes. ‘He can be a right nitwit at times, like I said.'

‘Well, at least he didn't try to get you to join in, did he?' Caitlín had a way of asking sensitive questions in an innocent tone of voice. ‘Unless he was handing around platefuls of the stuff at the party in Castletown?'

Sal's expression changed and Nessa thought fleetingly that Caitlín had hit the mark. Her daughter had long declared that taking drugs was for losers, but teenage righteousness could change overnight.

‘I don't want to think about that party,' Sal said then. She twisted a strap on her handbag to and fro. ‘I don't mean … It's not over Marcus or anything, because he didn't hand around stuff, no way. But it's something else I've remembered.'

Nessa put her arm around her and was gratified that Sal leaned in to her for reassurance. ‘It's OK if you'd rather not talk about it, love.'

‘No, I'd better … I should have said it in my garda statement thing, but I've just been too tired to think straight. It's about Darina's van. That night, you know, when we drove to the party …'

Sal bit her lip and lapsed into silence. After a moment, Nessa realised what she was getting at. ‘You're talking about the wheelie bin, aren't you? It was in the van that night, and that's how …?'

‘Darina said something about bringing her work clothes to a launderette the next day. And then … Well, she left the party early, you know, saying she wanted to get up next morning for work.'

‘But you believe she drove straight from the party up towards the Healy Pass?' Sal nodded and Nessa continued slowly. ‘It would have been easy enough for her to dump Oscar's body that night, without even taking the wheelie bin out of the van. She could just open the back doors and tilt the bin against the parapet.'

‘It was a hell of a risk,' said Caitlín, ‘if another car had come along.'

‘She could see headlights from both directions quite easily. And as we know, she'd decided by then that she wanted the corpse to be found in a very public spot.'

‘I think we should stop talking about it now,' said Sal. She closed her eyes for a moment, frowning hard, and Nessa thought about her own night at the little bridge, and her sense of the murderer's abiding hatred of Oscar. But then Sal shook her head firmly and assumed a positive air again. ‘Anyway, you'll never guess who was nosing around the hotel. We had to skip off down the coastal path in case he'd see us.'

‘I think I saw his car earlier,' said Caitlín. ‘A shiny silver Merc, by any chance?'

‘Yes. Jack Talbot and a photographer. You'd think they'd be sick of the area by now.'

‘I'd say they've heard the same rumour as I have,' said Nessa. ‘I got a text from a media friend last night about it.'

‘Go on then?'

‘The rumour is that Maureen has sold her story to one of the big Sundays. Her line is that she's doing it for Dominic's sake, to pay for his longterm care.'

‘Do you mean she gave it to Jack's paper?'

‘No, no, she's turned against him completely, as far as I know. But if the rumour is true, Jack must be desperate for some new scoop.' Nessa laughed. ‘You'd better watch out, Caitlín! He might write a feature claiming that you've powerful mushrooms on the pub menu here!'

Caitlín smiled, but her reply was in a serious tone. ‘God help Dominic, all the same. It doesn't look as if he'll ever recover, does it?'

‘No, and that kind of brain damage could make him very difficult to manage.'

‘So you couldn't blame Maureen, really, for making whatever money she can.'

‘Hasn't she got her Lotto loot?' Sal looked from one to the other. ‘Unless of course she and Dominic spent it all years ago. Anyway, the question is what she'll say this time about her little fall on the boreen. I'm sure she was glugging from her orange bottle all afternoon – and then she tried to climb a wall to see where she was, or something, and fell on her face. I told you from the start that I got a whiff of booze off her.'

‘Conor says they're pretty sure that she wasn't assaulted,' said Nessa, ‘so you're probably right, Sal. But I believe Maureen has taken on a PR company now, so who knows what they'll come up with to keep the readers excited.'

It was Sal's turn to laugh. ‘This could be the start of, like, a whole new career for her. Next thing, I bet you she'll be starring in a reality TV show. Can you just imagine it? Celebrity ladies compete to get into bed with the richest, sleaziest man?'

Caitlín smiled ruefully at her. ‘Then again, we know she failed in that particular contest when she ran into Oscar Malden. And it was just as well for her, all considered.'

Redmond was learning to cook his own meals. It gave him something to think about at home, instead of staring at the microwave while the latest frozen package whirred around. Not that he was trying anything complicated – grilled chicken with olive oil, lemon juice and garlic was enough to get on with. It would help with calorie control too, to understand what he was eating.

He heard a knock at the door while he was turning on the grill. He rarely had visitors, but he hoped to invite Conor and his wife for a meal, once he learned to make something presentable. He had also put his name down for a sailing course in Adrigole at the Halloween bank holiday weekend – anything to take his mind off his worries about the future.

He found Trevor O'Kelleher at the front door, smiling apologetically for disturbing him at home. Redmond had a quick look around as he led him in, checking that the place was reasonably neat. After a few declined offers of tea, the inspector asked to sit down. The room seemed very cramped as he stretched his long legs to the side of the table.

‘I'll come straight to the point,' he said, ‘because I know this has been an anxious time for you. We won't be able to give it to you in writing for a week or two, but you can get ready to return to work very soon. You'll be reprimanded for certain unauthorised actions, there's no getting away from that. But you'll be glad to hear that your mobile phone has been found. It was in Marcus's car, under the passenger seat, but he and Carl both claim they've no idea how it got there.'

Redmond was glad he had sat down himself. He felt as if his senses were filling with the most wonderful aromas, after spending weeks on a diet of bread and water.

‘I'm unable to return the phone to you yet,' Trevor continued in his official voice. ‘It's being examined, and I've been told that some deleted photographs have been retrieved. The date on the photos corresponds with the same occasion on which you reported visiting the old house in the trees, and they show the exterior of that house at night, along with some well-lit images of cannabis plants.'

Redmond sat back on his chair, letting his breath out slowly. If he had to swallow a gallon of medicine for his misdemeanours, he would gladly do it, just to wear his garda uniform again. Trevor allowed a pause of silence between them, and then gave him one of his penetrating looks. ‘I'm sure you're dying to know whether we've learned anything new,' he said quietly. ‘Especially now that Fergus Malden has given us the benefit of a full and frank interview.'

Redmond muttered something about better late than never for Fergus, before he remembered to offer his visitor a drink again. Trevor relented this time, and Redmond was glad to busy himself at the kettle to distract him from his own emotions.

‘According to Fergus, he met Darina for the first time a year and a half ago. It was some months after her mother's death, and she'd tracked down where Oscar lived, out in the Tipperary countryside. It seems she arrived at the house on some pretext she invented, to do with a survey on broadband speed.'

‘And was Oscar himself at home?'

‘No, he was away on a business trip, which she may have found out from his office beforehand. So instead, Fergus opened the door to her and they got talking. In fact, they got on so well that they met a few times in the following week.'

Redmond put teacups and a jug of milk on the table, although he knew that Trevor drank black tea. It was difficult to concentrate on what was being said. ‘But she hardly told him straightaway that she was his half-sister?' he asked after a moment.

‘Not at all, no. However, she may have had to tell him quicker than she'd expected. It seems that Fergus found her rather attractive and made that known to her, so she had to scotch his romantic notions and take her chances with the truth.'

‘Do you think they came up with their murder plan at that stage?'

‘Fergus says no. But of course, it's possible that Darina played him along until she was sure he'd cooperate.'

‘Is it also possible that Fergus is trying to minimise his own responsibility?'

‘Well spotted, Redmond, that had also occurred to me. But I don't think it was hard for Darina to plant the idea in his mind, because Fergus hated his father too, and it must have been a huge relief to him to say it aloud. They certainly decided early on that Oscar should know nothing about Darina, and took care to communicate using only pre-paid mobile phones.'

Trevor gestured his thanks as Redmond poured tea. ‘Fergus has told us that they made their decision last Christmas,' he said after taking a sip. ‘His father had just gone away again and their housekeeper, Irina, broke down in the middle of a conversation with Fergus, and blurted out that Oscar had attacked her. Fergus tried to get her to report it, but she denied the whole thing the very next day. He was already aware of previous incidents in the company, when young women who had worked directly with Oscar left their jobs suddenly, and he remembered a heated argument between his father and mother about just such an incident, before his mother left them to live in Dubai.'