by Kevin Doyle
‘Jesus,’ he said, holding out his hand. Noelie received a hearty handshake. ‘Au pair,’ Casey explained, indicating the young woman who had answered the door; his wife was still at work. ‘She’s in the army too. We’re all army here,’ he added happily.
They looked at each other. ‘It’s been a long time.’ Casey said then, adding immediately, ‘Everything all right?’
‘Not really. I want to ask you something. I hope you don’t mind.’
They went down the hall. Casey offered his condolences over Shane. He asked after Ellen. They arrived in a huge open-plan kitchen.
‘Tea, coffee? A beer?’
‘Glass of water,’ said Noelie.
‘Let’s have a beer.’
Noelie was adamant.
‘Okay, you’ve the look of a man who’s here on business.’
‘It’s kind of like that all right.’
Casey returned with a tall glass of water and suggested they go into a different room, a quiet sitting room.
‘You have a nice place,’ observed Noelie.
Casey nodded but remained standing. ‘Okay then, if this is not a social call.’
Noelie stood again. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve come across like that.’
‘Not a problem … Shoot.’
‘As you probably know, I was in the papers.’
Casey nodded. ‘Bombs are an army thing and I paid attention. I was quite taken aback to see your name. It seems you were lucky.’
‘To put it mildly.’
Casey nodded. ‘So you were the target? That wasn’t any mistake?’
‘No mistake. Someone tried to kill me.’
Noelie wasn’t sure what kind of an explanation to give but Casey helped him out. ‘You used to do some community action stuff or so I heard anyway. Way back. Is it something to do with that? Or drugs or something? Have you crossed paths with the wrong people?’
Noelie nodded. ‘The gardaí are saying that. Drugs or druggies. A source of my own has mentioned the Provos or possibly some dissident IRA types. But I don’t think so myself. My politics are far left not green nationalist, if you get my meaning. I don’t have any real associations with republicans. I know a few from this or that campaign, but that’s as far as it goes.’
‘Sure.’
‘The cops are being good but I don’t know if they’re telling me the whole story. I’d prefer to have the heads up, just for the future, you know.’
‘I see where this is going.’
‘The forensic guys let slip that the army take a look at all home-made bombs. You keep a sort of database on them. Apparently a lot of the bomb types and techniques are linked or can be linked to each other. So I was wondering maybe …’
Casey shook his head.
‘… if it was the Provos or one of their people whether you might be able to find out for me? Get me a lead, any lead?’
‘I can’t. Listen, it’s not that I wouldn’t like to help but it’s not my area. I don’t have any business with ordnance. And if it’s an ongoing investigation, as I’m guessing it is, I’d be risking trouble just putting my nose in.’
Noelie held his old friend’s stare and then looked away. He could see the edge of the paddock. A beautiful brown colt was standing there looking into the distance.
‘No harm in asking, right?’
‘Of course not. I’m glad you did. I’m glad you thought of me but I’m sorry I can’t help. I really am.’
Noelie felt embarrassed now. Casey looked awkward too but he wasn’t for budging. ‘Look, have a beer,’ he suggested.
‘No, really.’
‘A pint then? Some evening?’
‘I’d like that.’
As teenagers they had both been on a Gaelic football team that was featured in a recent photographic portrait of Cork. Noelie enquired if Casey had seen the picture? He had. But did Noelie know that their old team captain had died of throat cancer only last year? Noelie didn’t. They spent a while talking about that and the various others characters that they both still knew or knew of. It transpired that another member of that team had died too.
Casey accompanied Noelie outside. He was contrite. ‘What about the cops, Noelie? You’re well within your rights to press them for more information. Particularly if you’re worried about your personal security. You’re the aggrieved party. I could give you a name.’
Noelie declined the offer. He explained about Byrne and how he had got to know her through Shane’s case.
‘She suggested waiting to see what forensics come back with. She’s straight though. If I need to go back to the gardaí I can go to her.’
Noelie left and drove a short distance before pulling over. It had been a long shot but he was disappointed. He wondered what he could do next. They were getting close to something, but what? They needed more information.
The meeting with Casey had reminded Noelie about Ellen. She had phoned a few times since the blast but he hadn’t answered the calls. Her place was on his way back into town – maybe he should call in?
He decided against it. He didn’t want more trouble and he had no idea how Ellen had taken the news of the bomb. The last thing he wanted was another confrontation.
25
Hannah cut carrot cake, putting the slices on to three plates. As she poured coffee, Noelie went to fetch the Danesfort photo. He had taken up residence in Hannah’s spare room. There was a single mattress on the floor and his boxed belongings took up most of the remaining space.
Meabh had changed into black leggings and a baggy black V-neck jumper. When he returned, Noelie sat beside her and showed her the picture. He explained about the presentation of the scroll and identified Jim Dalton for her.
‘Do you recognise anyone?’
Meabh looked at the picture carefully and then shook her head. Noelie pointed out the head Rosminian.
‘Here’s the strange thing about this photo. The man who was in the car with your father when it crashed, killing them both, is this Rosminian priest.’
‘Okay,’ nodded Meabh.
‘Given that Jim Dalton’s also in the photo, that seems odd to us.’
‘For sure.’
‘The priest’s name is Tony Donnelly. He’s one of three brothers. There are Robert and Albert too.’
‘Well, I do know the Donnellys.’
Noelie and Hannah exchanged looks. ‘How?’
‘I’ve met Robert Donnelly a few times. He and my father were good friends. He was my dad’s boss in the gardaí, but he was often in our house too, he’s distantly related to my mother.’
‘Really? Did you ever meet Tony Donnelly?’
Meabh peered at the photo again. ‘I don’t think so but I may have.’
Noelie told Meabh what they knew about the Donnellys and their association with Danesfort, and how Jim Dalton had ended up there. ‘Your father visited the Daltons a number of times. He saw this photo at their house and, according to Mrs Dalton, he was very interested in it. But we don’t really know why.’
There was silence.
‘How did you find out that your father had been killed, Meabh?’ asked Hannah
‘I was at boarding school at the time. I was very shocked. I knew my father was going away for a few months. Then out of nowhere, he was dead. It was terrible. I was left with my mother and I hated her by then.’
‘How was your father when you last saw him?’
‘The same as always, I think. I was much better by then. We talked about me, about my plans. I was bothered about him going away but he assured me it was only for a short while.’
‘Did he say why he had resigned from the gardaí?’
‘No, but he wouldn’t have. He was private about work and my mother never allowed me to ask him anything about it.’
‘Your dad died within months of approaching Garda Headquarters with the information that he had. It looks as if he claimed that there was some sort of criminal cover-up inside the gardaí and that didn’t go down too well.’
/> Meabh nodded. ‘I wish I remembered something but I don’t.’
Hannah pointed to the photo. ‘An idea we have is to identify the other boys in the picture. Most of them should still be alive. Someone might recall something that could help us work this out.’
Noelie got up. He was frustrated too. At the window he looked out on Washington Street. ‘What about Facebook?’ he asked.
Hannah’s laptop was nearby. She checked but there were no new messages. ‘I’ll put out another request.’
Noelie sat down again. ‘This photo bothered your mother. She wouldn’t say why. Afterward I wondered if it had to do with seeing Tony Donnelly. That would’ve reminded her of the car crash and that would’ve been upsetting. But now I’m not so sure. Could it be something else?’
Meabh shifted on the sofa, tucking her legs under her. ‘I’ve decided to visit her. I’ll go in the morning. I wasn’t going to but now I feel I should. I’ll ask her.’
Hannah knew from Noelie how difficult Meabh’s relationship with her mother was and offered to go with her.
‘It’s okay,’ said Meabh. ‘I’m better dealing with her on my own. You said you’d show me the statement.’
Noelie fetched his copy. Meabh read it and they waited. Hannah offered Noelie more coffee but he decided against it.
‘I’ll never sleep.’
‘That’s the idea – we have work to do.’
Hannah was annoyed with Noelie. When he told her about his unsuccessful trip to see Casey she had reacted badly. He wasn’t keeping her informed, she complained. What if something had happened to him. From now on she needed to know where he was. In a bid to reduce the tension, Noelie had joked that things weren’t as serious as all that. Hannah really lost it then. He hadn’t ever seen her so angry. His life was in danger, he needed to realise that.
Meabh indicated the paragraph near the end of the statement. ‘This could refer to me.’
Some years later an unexpected turn of events forced me to re-examine a number of key assumptions and relationships that I had built up in the force. This has led me to reason that the murder of Mr Jim Dalton may have taken place for quite different reasons to those given to me.
Meabh told Hannah about her self-harming and her eventual confrontation with her father.
‘My mother still blames me for telling my dad. She had kept it from him. She never wanted him to know, I guess.’
Noelie spoke. ‘Say you’re right, Meabh, how does that connect to the murder of Jim Dalton?’
‘That’s the big question,’ agreed Hannah.
‘Let’s assume some things for a moment. Meabh’s dad is involved in Jim Dalton’s death. He’s suspicious about what’s going on and gets an explanation that’s not adequate. Time passes. Then out of the blue he finds out that Meabh was assaulted. However, something connects too. This line “I was forced to re-examine a number of key assumptions and relationships that I had built up in the force” is key. So what’s the connection?’
Hannah took the statement and leafed through it again. Noelie got up and went across to the window. On Washington Street a group of women were wandering towards the town centre; they were in high spirits.
They were being watched, that was the other thing he and Hannah had agreed on. Whoever threw the bomb into his flat clearly knew they had been asking questions. Who was watching and were they watching right now?
He turned back to Hannah and Meabh. No one had answers. Noelie tried again. ‘The Danesfort photo – your mother reacted badly to the picture but what did your father see in it?’
Meabh looked at Noelie. ‘I don’t follow.’
‘Mrs Dalton said your dad became animated about this photo one time he visited. He wanted to take it away and make a copy. Apparently he recognised someone in the photo. Who?’
‘Tony Donnelly perhaps? The other unidentified figure, the novitiate? Hardly the bishop?’
‘What’s the timeline? Do you remember when you told your father about what happened to you?’
‘I remember exactly. I told him on my birthday. I was fourteen. 5 November 1994.’
‘And your dad visited Mrs Dalton for the first time in early 1995,’ said Noelie. ‘I have the date somewhere. Mrs Dalton kept a diary.’ Noelie went to his room. He returned with his notebook. ‘16 February 1995.’
Hannah looked satisfied. ‘They’re roughly in sequence. Meabh’s right. Her admission in some way led to her father reexamining the Dalton murder.’ She smiled at Noelie. ‘Finally two pieces of this bloody jigsaw fit together.’
Noelie agreed. ‘But what was it about what Meabh told him that made him go back to the Dalton killing?’
There was silence.
‘So after discovering what had happened to his daughter, Sugrue approaches Mrs Dalton. He sees the photo. Something more is confirmed, something else has fallen into place for him. Is it seeing Jim Dalton, albeit as a boy, in the picture? Or is it Tony Donnelly? Or is it someone else?’
‘It could be Danesfort,’ offered Hannah.
Noelie thought about this. ‘It could be Danesfort,’ he repeated slowly. ‘Yes, maybe that’s it. Maybe it wasn’t a person at all, it was the place.’
Hannah had the picture. ‘It’s a creepy photo, isn’t it? Something about all those boys in a line like that. The podium with the head and the bishop presiding over the order of things. Makes me sick.’
Meabh looked upset.
‘You okay?’ asked Noelie
‘You were asking about the past. I do remember one time I came home from boarding school. My dad was off sick from work. He usually made time for me, but not on that occasion.’ She looked at them both. ‘It’s what my mother blames me for, that I brought all this trouble down on him. She said to me once that I had killed him.’
‘Are you really up to that meeting tomorrow?’ asked Noelie. ‘I mean someone could go with you. I could go.’
Meabh shook her head again. ‘It wouldn’t work. I have to deal with her myself. It’s important. And I’ll have the element of surprise on my side. She’s not expecting me.’
Hannah drove Meabh to her hotel. When she returned Noelie was sitting near the riverside window, looking at the view. She joined him.
‘Something I meant to say to you. Remember the miraculous medal and the white box you lifted from Meabh’s mother’s house?’
‘For Leslie Walsh, sure.’
‘There’s a rumour about him. He was in trouble a good few years back. To do with boys. Seems he was in a seminary college too at one time. Anyway the word is he paid a substantial sum of money to keep the story out of the papers. Admitted no liability though. The settlement also involved a confidentiality clause. My boss at the Voice mentioned it and she’s no idle gossip.’
Noelie looked at Hannah. ‘So you’re thinking … what?’
‘What happened to Meabh – I’m just saying, maybe this is all a lot more sordid than we realise.’
‘Fuck,’ he said.
‘I know,’ she replied, taking his hand. ‘But we owe it to Meabh to keep at this. Come on, we made good progress tonight. We’ll crack this eventually.’ She got up. ‘I’m beat. You must be too. Things will look better in the morning.’
He heard Hannah in the bathroom and then go into her room. Her door closed and the apartment went silent.
26
Noelie arrived at Henderson’s Photography as it opened and was directed upstairs. The technician had just arrived too and was taking off her jacket. She made a quick examination of the Danesfort photo. Noelie enquired if she could make separate prints of every face in the picture.
‘The copy is poor,’ she said, describing it as a copy of a copy. She noted the inscription date at the side. ‘Himself might be worth asking – he might know where you can find the original.’ The owner, Henderson, had a big interest in old photos and was in various clubs that specialised in city and county pictures. ‘He’ll be in later so I could ask him.’
Noelie agreed it was worth a
try. He’d call back in the afternoon. In the meantime he ordered an enlargement and copies. The scanner was nearly as loud as an electric generator. As he watched the technician working a hand touched his wrist, giving him a fright.
It was Casey. He smiled reassuringly and dropped something into Noelie’s pocket. He addressed the technician, ‘I want to order some prints but I forgot to put up a parking disk. I’ll be right back.’
Noelie retrieved the item from his pocket, a note. I’ll be in the cafe around the corner from Liam Ruiséal’s bookshop.
The technician came to the counter with Noelie’s order. The faces of the Danesfort boys were very snowy. Noelie couldn’t even see a likeness for Dalton. The quality was hopeless.
Noelie found the cafe. He saw Casey at a table in the back and ordered a coffee.
‘This is a surprise.’
‘Turn off your phone and take out the battery.’
‘Why?’
‘Trust me.’
Noelie did as he was told.
‘I’m not hanging about so listen. I asked about your matter. Just casually. Truth is I do know a few in ordnance from different assignments over the years. I was careful. Had other business there and just mentioned your matter in passing.’
‘I appreciate it.’
‘An hour later army intelligence paid me a visit. Two of them. Asking me why I was asking about the bomb at your place.’
Noelie didn’t follow. ‘Army intelligence?’
‘They’re known as G2,’ answered Casey. ‘A small unit, a stay-out-of-the-limelight operation. Serious people.’
‘You’re joking me.’
Casey shook his head. ‘I’m not. The thing is they also knew that you were out at my place.’
‘What?’
‘Exactly.’
Noelie told him that he had got more careful since the bomb. He felt he was looking over his shoulder all the time now. ‘I’m certain no one followed me to your place.’
‘They don’t have cars up your backside any more, Noelie. If they want to know where you are they track your phone. They’ll have your number so it’s not difficult. The question is why do they have your number.’