Irish Secrets (8 page)

"And how do we find out which of those had a baby at Ballykane in 1959?"

Ryan shook his head. "I don't know. Perhaps the Adoption Agency or the Sister will be able to tell you more about her."

"According to Sister Mary Theresa, many of the records have been lost over the years."

"Or destroyed."

"That wouldn't surprise me. Their philosophy of protecting the mothers and their children might have laudable motives but, let's face it, Ryan, we're up against a wall of either careless record-keeping, or deliberate secrecy here."

"What are you going to do now?"

"I'm not sure. Thanks to your friend, I have what I assume is my mom's birth certificate, but I don't think it will be possible to find her mother."

* * * * *

Ryan heard the resignation in Kara's voice and put his hand gently on hers. "We're both novices at this kind of research, Kara, but I can ask Declan for his advice."

He couldn't tell her that Declan's
Garda
status allowed him access to far more records than were open to the public. If necessary, he'd use his own status to get whatever information he could from the General Register Office in Roscommon or from the National Archives in Dublin.

No distractions.
The words echoed in his mind again, but surely even an undercover cop was allowed to take an interest in something other than the job. Especially when the job consisted mainly of five days a week tedious taxi-driving or sitting in the office waiting for the next call.

Getting involved with Kara's research was the kind of challenge he relished. It appealed to his fascination with history, his innate curiosity, and his ability to work through facts and hunches to find answers.

And, of course, it gave him the opportunity to spend more time with Kara.

He glanced toward the door of the lounge as two women came in, both shaking drips from their umbrellas.

"Looks like it's still lashing down, so there's no point in me taking you for a scenic drive around Connemara, is there? Too much rain and mist to see anything, but have you been to Kylemore?"

"Kylemore Abbey? I've seen pictures. It looks beautiful, and it's on my list of places to visit."

"It's one place around here where you can get out of the rain. They offer an interesting tour of the public rooms of the abbey, and there's a large gift shop and a café."

Kara giggled. "I love gift shops."

"Okay, I'll bring the car to the door to save you from getting wet through." He retrieved his jacket from the wall hook, and gave Kara her green waterproof. "Back in a minute."

He ran across the car park, and had just switched on the engine when his phone rang. Pulling it from his pocket, he let out a quick breath of relief that the call from his boss had come now and not a few minutes earlier or later.

"Good afternoon, Chief."

"The white transit van," Enya said. "It's parked outside the cinema complex at Galway Retail Park."

He frowned. "Sure it's the same one?"

"I recognised the number as I was leaving the car park, and saw a man and woman getting out."

"Did you get a photo of them?"

"I couldn't stop because there was another car right behind me, but they went into the cinema, hand-in-hand."

"Description?"

"About six foot, average build, short-cropped fair hair. Ryan, can you get over here to watch for them coming out of the cinema and take some photos of them? I can't wait because I'm on my way to a meeting in Athlone."

Ryan's heart sank but he couldn't refuse the Chief's request. "Fer sure."

"I should be home about nine, so call me later."

After Enya described where the van was parked, he clicked off his phone and suppressed a groan. Now he'd have to make some excuse to Kara.

He picked her up outside the restaurant door, and gave her an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, we'll need to visit Kylemore another day. My boss just called to ask me to go to Galway."

Best to leave it at that. He didn't want to tell a deliberate lie, and it was simpler to let her assume it was a taxi request. The disappointment that flashed across her face was gratifying but guilt-inducing at the same time.

"I'll call you," he said as he dropped her off at Mist Na Mara.

"Okay, and thanks for the lunch, Ryan. I enjoyed it."

"Me, too. Maybe we can meet for lunch again next weekend."

She gave him a quick smile. "We have a full house of residents next weekend so I don't think I'll be able to get any time off."

Was she making an excuse or not? He had no idea, but cursed Enya, the van driver, and his double life to hell and back.

"I'll call you," he said again.

During the hour's drive to Galway, his mind ranged over what to do next. It boiled down to two alternatives. Either he forgot about Kara and concentrated on the job, or he asked Enya to find someone else to go undercover for as long as it took to solve this case. Try as he might, he couldn't find any middle route.

By the time he reached the retail park on the outskirts of Galway, the rain had eased and, after locating the white van, he parked in the next line of cars from where he could see both the cinema doors and the van.

He glanced at his watch. It was nearly ninety minutes since Enya had called him. Since most movies lasted about two hours, he had at least thirty minutes' wait. Longer if the damned movie was one of the lengthy blockbusters.

He passed the time by searching the websites Declan had given him for any information about Bernadette O'Brien. There were several marriages in the 1960s for women with that name but there was no way of knowing which of them might have given birth to a baby in Ballykane.

Movement from the cinema entrance caught his attention, and he swiped his tablet into camera mode. Positioning it as unobtrusively as he could with the lens just above the steering wheel, he glanced around at the people heading for their cars. He wished he'd asked Enya what the woman was wearing, but none of the men matched her description anyway.

He resigned himself to another wait until the next film ended when the cinema's glass door opened, and another couple came down the stone steps.

"Got them," he muttered with satisfaction as he clicked the camera.

The man was tall with short-cropped fair hair, and the woman, wearing a brown coat, had long blonde hair. He snapped another photo of them as they approached the van, and a third one when they reached it.

The woman said something and laughed as the man held open the door for her, and Ryan frowned. He'd seen her before somewhere, but where?

Two seconds later, he blew out a low whistle. She was one of the four women he'd driven into Clifden several times from Mist Na Mara House.

Chapter 8

Even before Ryan dropped her off at Mist Na Mara, a maelstrom of confused thoughts seethed in Kara's mind. Disappointment alternated with doubts about the way he abandoned her as soon as he was called out on some taxi job on his day off.

Now, six hours later, she rested against the propped-up pillows on her bed as the questions continued to jump back and forth in her mind. Was the call-out genuine, or was it an excuse? Either way, it was uncomfortably reminiscent of the times Mark broke their arrangements with allegedly work-related emergencies.

Or was Ryan giving her another brush-off like he'd done after their trip to Ballykane? Why hadn't she remembered to ask him what he meant when he said it was the wrong time for him? But if it was, why had he invited her to lunch? He could easily have emailed the birth certificate scans to her. It didn't make any sense.

When her phone rang shortly before nine o'clock, her insides somersaulted. Was this him? Jumping up, she retrieved the phone from the desk unit, and saw his name on the screen.

Undecided about how to react, she kept her voice neutral. "Hi."

"Kara, I am so sorry about today. I wouldn't blame you if you've been calling me all the names under the sun for the last few hours."

"Well, I—"

He gave a short laugh. "So I'd better not be asking you what names you called me, but please will you accept my apologies for what happened? If it's any consolation, I was annoyed, too, at being called out, but when your boss tells you to get down to Galway, you can't argue. Well, perhaps you can, but it's not advisable, is it?"

"No, of course not." Faced with his obviously genuine apology, Kara relaxed. "Don't worry, it's not a problem." Somehow it wasn't, not now that he'd called her after she'd convinced herself he wouldn't.

"I was looking forward to spending the rest of the day with you," he went on. "Visiting Kylemore, and maybe this evening at Lonergan's Bar."

"Where are you now?"

"Still in Galway, otherwise I'd take you to hear the lads playing at Lonergan's."

"Lads?"

"They call themselves
The Clifden Lads
, and they play traditional Irish music. They're good."

"Do they perform every night?"

"Usually every Saturday."

She grimaced. "I won't be able to get away next weekend."

"Aye, I forgot. You said you had something on at Mist Na Mara, didn't you?"

"A Creative Arts Weekend from Friday to Monday."

"And you're involved with the drama?"

"I help Charley, although she's threatening to make me run one of the sessions on my own this time. She might live to regret it if I do, of course."

"You'll do grand. Is Charley the tall one with long blonde hair?"

"No, that's Liz."

"Ah, okay. I saw her in Galway earlier today, and remembered her from when I drove your group into Clifden a few weeks ago."

"Yeah, she said she was going to the cinema with her boyfriend. I don't think they're back yet."

"Does he work at Mist Na Mara, too?"

"Not permanently, but he's doing some building work here, or at least he will be when the weather improves."

"Oh, I see." There was a momentary pause. "Anyhow, if you can't manage next weekend, how about one evening this week? I'll be finishing at six on Wednesday and Thursday."

Kara's heart did a small jump, and she smiled. Today hadn't been a brush-off after all. He wanted to see her again. "Wednesday would be best, because we'll be busy on Thursday getting everything ready for all the guests."

"Wednesday it is, then. I'll pick you up about seven and treat you to Irish stew at Murphy's."

* * * * *

After he ended his call with Kara, Ryan glanced at his watch. Nearly nine o'clock. For a few minutes, his mind ran through the way today's events had played into his hands before he hit the key for Enya's private number.

"Did you see them?" she asked.

"I did. Took photos of them when they came out of the cinema, and followed them to the casino and sat outside there for about an hour, then a couple of pubs, and—"

"You didn't go inside?"

"Couldn't risk anyone recognising me from when I worked here last year."

"Good point. Where are you now?"

"On the promenade at Salthill. Got more photos as they left the car to go into the hotel here, and sent them to Declan. He called me about twenty minutes ago. There was one possible on our files, but he's doing four years in Mountjoy for assault."

"Damn, I was hoping for a definite ID."

"Dec's forwarded the photos to Dublin and Belfast, and is waiting for any info from them. Meantime, I have a lead on the woman."

"Who is she?"

"Liz, surname unknown, but I can find out. She works at Mist Na Mara Arts Centre."

"How do you know that?"

He allowed himself a small smile. Now he'd discovered a link between the white van and Mist Na Mara, maybe he didn't have to choose between Kara and the job. He could openly admit to Enya that he'd established a 'contact' with one of the staff at the house in order to pursue the investigation. Only he needed to know he was far more interested in pursuing Kara herself.

"I know someone who works at the Arts Centre and called her earlier."

"Her?"

Enya's voice was sharp, and he suppressed his frustration.
Jaysus
, would she ever stop reminding him of how his ex-girlfriend ruined his last cover job?

"She’s an acquaintance, and only knows me as Ryan Brady, taxi driver."

"Go on. What else did she tell you about the woman?"

"Nothing more than I've told you, but she said the boyfriend was a builder who was doing some work at Mist Na Mara. I can't arouse her suspicions by cross-examining her about them, can I? But I'll slip in a few questions next time I see her and find out the boyfriend's name."

He winced at the thought of asking Kara for more information but he couldn't ignore the fact that there seemed to be a link between Mist Na Mara House and the people who were possibly involved with the stolen goods.

"Didn't the van disappear somewhere near the Arts Centre?" Enya asked.

"It did, and I'm starting to suspect the goods might be stored there."

"I met with James in Athlone today, and he's not found anything unusual at Ballinasloe Cabs so I'm taking him off undercover work with them."

"What about Roscommon?"

"There are several taxi firms in and around the town, and I don't have enough manpower to cover them all. This is why I'm depending on you."

"Understood. I'll follow up everything I can." He glanced at the large four-star hotel on the seafront. "But I don't think there's any point in staying here any longer. My guess is that Liz and unknown builder have checked in for the night."

Enya laughed. "I won't ask you to sleep in your car overnight at this stage, but find out what you can about the Arts Centre."

"Will do."

After ending the call, he gazed across Galway Bay. The rain had finally stopped, and the silvery rays of the setting sun radiated down to the sea through gaps in the clouds. On the far side of the bay, the low grey hills, which had been hidden by mist earlier, were now visible against the evening sky. One day he'd love to take Kara over there to the stark, almost surreal, landscape of the Burren, the beautiful inlets and bays of the Clare coast, and the majestic Cliffs of Moher.

Life would be simpler, of course, if he didn't have to hide the secret of his real identity, but he couldn't risk telling her. Besides, if he hadn't been masquerading as a taxi driver, he wouldn't have met her. Once this job ended, he'd be able to tell her the truth, and hope her experience with the slime-ball NYPD cop hadn't put her off detectives forever.

He gave a small shrug as he switched on his engine. "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it," he muttered, as he drove along the promenade and headed for the N59 to Clifden. With a bit of luck, he'd make it back in time for a quick pint at Coyne's.

* * * * *

Kara hoped the bus tour group from Galway wouldn't ask too many questions once the Living History presentation in the lounge finished at five o'clock on Wednesday. Normally she enjoyed the question sessions at the end of their performances, but today she needed time to take a shower and wash her hair before Ryan arrived.

She breathed a sigh of relief when the group departed about twenty minutes later. Scooping up the long skirt of her Victorian gown, she ran down the corridor to the staff quarters and almost bumped into Guy as he came out of his office.

"Kara, I was just coming to find you. I couldn't interrupt your performance, but I have a message for you."

"A message? Who from?"

"Come into my office for a minute."

Kara frowned as she followed him. Ryan had her cell phone number, and she couldn't think of anyone else who might call the house and not her personal number.

Guy picked up a piece of paper from his desk. "Sister Gabriel," he read. "From the Convent of the Sisters of Calvary in Galway. She called about thirty minutes ago."

Her nerves tensed, but she gave him a quick smile. "She's the nun I introduced to Alice Vernon at the Film Festival."

"Yes, she said how thrilled she was to meet Alice again, and then said she had some information about your mother, and wants you to call her. This is her phone number." He handed her the paper. "She made a point of saying you must ring this number, and not the convent, and only between seven and eight o'clock in the evening."

Kara glanced down at the paper and back at Guy. "Thanks."

Guy raised his eyebrows. "Just thanks? Nothing more? Kara, my mind's been running around in circles wondering what an Irish nun could possibly tell you about your mom."

She chewed her lower lip for a couple of seconds. Sister Gabriel had unwittingly put her in a difficult position. Could she trust her cousin with the details of her search without him letting it slip to his mother? But his curiosity had been aroused, so she had no choice.

"It – it's kind of confidential, Guy."

He moved past her to close the door. "Anything you tell me stays within these four walls."

"Okay." She gave him an uncertain smile as she perched on the edge of his desk, and went on, "But you have to promise me you won't say a word about this to your mom. She may know some of it, of course. My dad might have told her, but somehow I doubt it, because even I didn't know about it until last fall."

Guy held up his hands. "Slow down, Kara. You've lost me. What's the 'it' you're referring to?"

She took a deep breath and told him about her mother's adoption, and about her encounters with the two nuns in Galway. "Neither of them was very forthcoming, but after I introduced Sister Gabriel to Alice, she said she'd try to find out more about my mom's birth mother."

"Are you going to call her?"

"Yes, of course I will. It would be rude not to, but I'll lay bets that she'll say the records are missing or make another excuse."

"What if she comes up with the information you need?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "Actually, I've discovered the name of my mom's mother, but I don't know how to trace where she is now. And even if I did, I can't turn up on her doorstep and introduce myself as her granddaughter, can I?"

"What does your mom think about all this?"

She hesitated. "I didn't tell her originally because I wanted to surprise her, but last week I told her I went to the town where she was born, and she said she didn't want to know anything about it. That's why I'd rather you didn't mention it to your mother."

Guy frowned. "Why isn't your mom interested? If I were adopted, I think I'd want to know about my birth parents and where I was born."

"So would I, but my mom seems to resent the woman who gave her away."

"Understandable, I guess. So are you intending to continue your search, now you've discovered she doesn't want to know?"

Kara thought for a few moments. "I think so, mainly because I'm curious. No, it's more than that. When I was in my teens, my dad did some family history research. He traced his Stewart family back to Glasgow, and he said Grandpa Howard's father emigrated from Yorkshire in England after the First World War. So I thought I was a mixture of Scottish and English, but now I've discovered the Yorkshire ancestry isn't mine. Mine is Irish, and that intrigues me, because I've always loved Irish songs. I even went to Irish dance classes when I was in High School."

Guy smiled. "Millions of Americans claim Irish descent, and Jenna and I both found we had Irish ancestry we hadn't known about, so I understand your interest. I don't think your search is going to be as easy as ours was, but good luck anyway. And I promise you, my lips are sealed."

"Thanks, Guy."

* * * * *

Ryan was leaning against his car when Kara rushed outside at ten minutes after seven. "I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. I got held up. But why didn't you ring the front door bell? Someone would have let you in."