by Dee McInnes
She gave Pete the bones of Tania’s tearful confession, how she claimed she had been manipulated and become drug dependent.
“I’m gobsmacked,” he said, shaking his head. “And you’re keeping this quiet because…?”
“What good will come from it, from throwing Tania under the wheels? I’ve thought about this, long and hard. I wanted to talk it over with you. Tania has been trying to reach me, but I haven’t had the time to take her calls. It’s not something I’d normally contemplate, but our remit is ‘not to do bad’. This would kill Mitch… and Alice. You didn’t see Tania. She’s a dead woman walking. A living ghost.”
“If you say so. You know, I’m always behind you, a hundred and ten percent,” Pete said.
“Thanks. I know…let’s stretch our legs. There’s something else I need to get off my chest, and you had something you wanted to say?” Viv opened the door and Pete followed her, tipping what was left of his coffee onto the grass and chucking the empty cup into the foot-well.
They walked towards the river.
“My cousin Aidan and his fiancé want to try for a baby, after their wedding” Pete said. “Do you ever think about settling down? I mean, you’re a wee bit older than me, but you’ve still got time. You’d make a great mum.”
Viv laughed. “What? Before my biological clock stops ticking. Don’t do me any favours.”
The sun suddenly broke through the grey clouds that stretched into the distance, beyond the bridge, towards Ball’s Point. A tiered mesh landing-stage, that she didn’t remember, ran down the riverbank and into the fast-running water. Viv remembered sliding down the grassy bank, Mandy and Wesley beside her. “I used to come here with my friends, when we were at school, rafting or canoeing,” she said.
“Happy childhood memories?”
“So so. We came on supervised trips. My mum taught at our primary school. You know, she died before my tenth birthday. Cancer. But I had my Aunt Cassy, and my father, at least for a while, after that. My Aunt used to live a couple of miles in that direction, next to the train line,” Viv pointed to the West.
“What happened to her?” Pete asked.
“She died of old age in a nursing home last year. She was in her eighties so had a good innings… she was my only remaining family. She never married or had children. Maybe I’ll end up like her? Her house was left to me, but I’ll probably let it go. I’m not sure I could ever live there. It reminds me too much of everything I’ve lost.”
“If you’re looking for someone to grow old with...I’m always available. You know, I really care about you.”
Viv didn’t trust herself to look up. “Your parents are still alive, aren’t they?”
“Yep. You know, the Breens multiply rapidly. I’ve no shortage of family,” he said.
“You’re so lucky.”
“I guess it’s the classic case of, ye don’t know what ye’ve got until it’s gone. I’ve told them all about you. They’d love to meet you sometime,” he said.
“What have you told them?” she asked.
“That I’ve never met anyone like you, so driven…and, so much fun to be with, obviously.”
“What? Driven in a good way?”
“Well, you know, you never stop, but that’s not a bad thing in our line of work.”
Viv thought about all the time she’d spent running on the treadmill. About the line of green at the base of her parents’ head stone and how all their obsessing about being on time, had, in the end, gained them nothing. “I can’t forever be a rolling stone, gathering no…”
“Moss?”
Viv sat down on a tree trunk and stared across the water.
“You know Pete, after my father’s murder, I swore blind that, one day, I’d find out whoever was responsible. That I’d make them pay for what they’d done.”
“It’s a natural reaction,” Pete said. “I’d probably feel exactly the same.”
“I might just have got a step closer,” she said. “Maybe more than one…”
The see-saw feeling that had overwhelmed her in the Ladies Room resurfaced. She remembered what Noreen had said, about some old boy who got a bullet in the head and what Dermott had told her about his legitimate target, the semi-automatic pistol and the explosion. Had Dermott Donnelly murdered her father in cold blood, carried on killing innocent people?
“Is this the other thing you wanted to tell me about?” Pete said. “Are you okay?”
After she got back to her own hotel room, Viv had had time to think. She decided to say that Dermott had fallen asleep soon after they went back for a nightcap. She wanted to blank out the memory of what happened in his bedroom and behind the closed doors of the Guildhall’s council room.
She told Pete how she had met Dermott at Grianan Fort and what Dermott had disclosed, after Noreen had blurted out his secret.
“Christ almightly,” Pete said. “What are you going to do now? Are ye going to the police?”
“I need more proof,” Viv said. “I want to be certain. If you’re going with Aidan, could I borrow your car? I want to go back to Derry and make a few inquiries.”
“Some stones shouldn’t be turned over,” Pete said. “My uncle crossed swords with some of the hardliners, at the height of The Troubles. He put us all at risk.”
Pete sat down beside her and put an arm around her shoulders.
“You’re shivering. Viv. I…you know…”
A tractor pulling a metal trailer trundled over the bridge, the sound of its wheels breaking the silence.
“Come on, it’s time we weren’t here,” Viv said, getting to her feet.
Chapter Thirty-Two
It was strange watching her drive away. Not long afterwards, Aidan swung onto the forecourt in his Ford Ranger and Pete climbed in.
“Alright?” Aidan said. “I’ve got a drop off at the Fleming’s place, outside Kells, after that, we’re at your disposal.” Aidan was just as tall as Pete but twice as broad. His thick, calloused hands gripped the steering wheel. Aidan spent most of his free time at the gym. Anyone stupid enough to take him on, usually came off second best.
“No problem,” Pete said. “Could we stop for a take-out? I’ve had nothing since breakfast.”
“There’s a roadside chippy on the link road. Where’re we heading? Ye said you were chasing someone who’d run yer woman and her friend off the motorway?”
“And, we suspect the same person was behind a petrol bomb chucked through a window at an industrial park in Ballylester, last Wednesday. Viv could’ve been burned alive.” Pete thought back to the panic he’d felt when he’d shouted to her from outside the roller-door. How he’d wrestled with the sergeant and the tradesman who prevented him from trying to gain entry.
“Christ,” Aidan said. “What the feck’s going on?”
“Someone’s trying to put the frighteners on,” Pete said. “It’s time for us to try and get some answers.”
Pete wished he could have come up with something better than, if you’re looking for someone to grow old with, I’m available. That was lame. It had come out wrong. At least Viv hadn’t laughed outright, but she hadn’t said anything, just changed the subject. When his arm was around her shoulder, he had been ready to make a move, but the chance had slipped away.
“What’s up?” Aidan said. “Yer very quiet.”
“Just thinkin’.”
“That’ll be right,” Aidan laughed. “So, any progress on the dating scene?”
“Some. I’ve let her know, in no uncertain terms, that I’m interested,” Pete said, rubbing the bristle on his chin. He thought he should have shaved before he went to collect her. He’d spent the whole morning getting the Astra back on the road, so he could make it up to her for missing the party.
“You’ll never pull a bird like that one,” Aidan said. “I keep tellin’ ye. You’d be far better picking off some lower fruit.”
“Aye, like you did?”
“Fecker. I’ll tell Trace what ye said.”
Aidan had a spare hydraulic for a fork-grab and a heavy-duty land leveller to deliver. It took the two of them to get the grid-shaped machine out of the back. Aidan had to spend a while chewing the fat with old man Fleming before collecting the payment. Afterwards, they stopped at the roadside for a burger.
“D’you remember those boys who came to yer father’s place, at the height of The Troubles, lookin’ to stash their weapons?” Pete said, when he had wolfed his food down.
“I might have heard the story about once or twice.”
“I was tellin’ Viv about it earlier on. Keep this to yerself, but she found out something, when she was up in Derry last night. Her… someone close to her, was murdered, back in the day. Now she’s intent on doin’ some diggin’. I was tellin’ her that some stones are best left unturned. That it’s better to let sleepin’ dogs lie.”
“What? Is this on top of this other lot you’re already going after?” Aidan put his empty Styrofoam container into a plastic carrier bag. “For feck’s sake.”
“I know. This here has been eatin’ her up for years. There’s no point in reasonin’. Ye know what women are like whenever they get an idea into their heads.”
“You don’t need to tell me. Where’re we heading?”
“The Tower Centre. There’s a supermarket there where this Polish guy’s missus is supposed to work. I’ll go in and see if I can find her.”
Only two checkouts were open. Pete didn’t recognise any of the goods on the shelves, a lot of it was foreign foodstuff from Eastern Europe and Asia. He picked up a packet of chewing gum from a stand at the end of the aisle and opted for the nearest checkout. The operator, a pasty-faced woman with lank, blonde hair, looked up with disinterest.
“Hello. I’m looking for Karol,” Pete said. “He recycles old clothes. I think his girlfriend works here?”
“That is me,” the woman said. “This is for business?”
“Yea, for sure. Do you know where I could find him today, please?”
“On the other side of the car park,” she said. “He helps run the Splash and Dash.”
Aidan steered the Ranger around an arc of dented oil barrels on the stretch of waste ground where the car wash was sited. Two youngsters and a pot-bellied man were circling a solitary car, hosing and cleaning. The man stopped working and came over, a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. “Wash and dry?” He had a distinct Eastern European accent that reminded Pete of Lucille Kozlowski.
“Are ye Karol?”
“Yes, that’s me.”
“We’d like a wee chat,” Aidan said, opening the door of the truck and climbing out, looming over Karol. “You won’t need this.” Aidan snatched the cigarette and ground it under his heel.
Pete followed Aidan’s lead and walked around in front of the bonnet. “Let’s talk inside,” he said, indicating a blue shipping container that served as a makeshift office.
“What’s this about?” Karol spluttered. “You can’t come here…”
Aidan grabbed Karol’s elbow and steered him across the tarmac.
“This should only take a few minutes, if you can tell us what we want to know,” Aidan said.
Pete shut the door, sliding the door-rod and leaning back against the metal. Someone had wired a strip-light to what looked like an oversized car battery.
“There’s a solar panel outside,” Karol said. “Powers the electric.”
“Very energy efficient,” Aidan said. “We’ve no time to beat about the bush. We just need to know where you were on Saturday afternoon.”
“You own a white Renault panel van,” Pete added. “Don’t try to deny it.”
“Yes, but I wasn’t driving, I promise you,” Karol said, shoving his hands into his trouser pockets and hitching them up.
“Try again,” Aidan said, stepping forward.
“It wasn’t me.” Karol looked from one of them to the other, beads of sweat had popped out on his forehead.
Pete gave the nod and Aidan pushed Karol in the back. Karol pitched forwards, clattering into a table and sending two bottles of spray-cleaner scudding onto the floor.
“Someone else, someone else took my keys,” Karol whined, rubbing his thigh.
“We need a name. Please,” Pete said. “If you tell us, it won’t go any further. I happen to know the police are still looking into the fire at the unit you rent in Ballylester. I saw your van parked outside an hour before the whole place went up. One thing might be a co-incidence, but two?”
“I haven’t done anything,” Karol said. “I’m working hard to support my family. I have four children back at home, in Poland.”
Aidan grabbed Karol by the arm and bent it up behind Karol’s back. “Cut yer crap would ye? Who had the keys?” Aidan snapped.
Karol let out a loud yelp. “My cousin... Kosmy.”
“Kosmy who?” Aidan said, tightening his grip. “Where would we find him?”
Karol screamed. “Dolinski. Dolinski. He drives for the people who own the hospital in Ballylester.”
“He’s a chauffeur?” Pete asked, remembering the black Mercedes that had been waiting for Rhona outside the courthouse - the same one that left Eveleen Manor as he and Viv were arriving. That guy had been wearing a pair of metal sunglasses, like the ones Viv remembered.
“Chauffeur, yes,” Karol stood on his tiptoes, trying to release the pressure on his elbow and shoulder. “Please. If my arm is broken, I cannot work.”
“Just one more question,” Pete said, nodding at Aidan. “Why?”
Aidan tightened the armlock.
“Kurwa Mac! The lady. The lady at the big house she pay him. I don’t know why. I swear to you, on the lives of all my children.”
Aidan dropped Pete off at Antrim train station. He sat on a bench on the platform and thought about the information they had squeezed out of Karol. So, Rhona Haslett was up to her neck in it after all?
Pete got a text message from Viv, saying she wanted to call in with Carmen, to see how she was feeling - and that if it was okay, she would meet him later at the Europa, to hand over the car keys and catch up over a beer.
Pete couldn’t wait to see Viv and to let her know what he had found out.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Noreen O’Reilly, the loose tongued woman she’d met in the Ladies Room, worked at Danny’s Place, a restaurant on the cityside. Viv found Noreen easily by searching for Maeve Donnelly on Facebook. Viv had discounted half of the Maeves who, according to their public profiles, lived too far away. Another was self-employed and seemed to have at least four grown up children. Self-employed Maeve had a comfortable lifestyle, spending a lot of time holidaying abroad. The fifth one was too young, no more than twenty to twenty-five years old. Photos showed Maeve number five with a medal around her neck and rowing, in an eight-man crew. Viv estimated that Dermott’s ex. would be in her thirties or forties, if she was the sister of his schoolfriend.
The last profile seemed to fit. This Maeve had six hundred and thirty friends and was a fan of traditional Irish music. Her home location wasn’t shown, but Viv was able to watch a video post showing a teenage girl, who could easily have been Dermott’s daughter, playing a Bodhran drum next to an older boy picking out a tune on a banjo. The girl had Dermott’s dark hair and her features were a decent match. Dozens of timeline photos showed Maeve and her girlfriends, dressed up for a night out. Viv searched for Noreen, trawling through Maeve’s friends list. People on Facebook didn’t know how to configure their privacy settings. It was always a good place to start, especially for people of a certain age.
Viv wasn’t sure whether a sober Noreen would recognise her. She planned to go to the restaurant and feign surprise that they had bumped into each other again. If necessary, to remind Noreen about their meeting and then ask whether she could tell her anything else about Dermott or put her in touch with Maeve. Viv decided to say that Dermott had asked to see her again, but the things she’d heard from Noreen, in the Ladies Room, made her worry if s
he’d be better off staying clear?
The restaurant wasn’t busy. Viv was shown to a table. She glanced at the menu and looked around. The inside was dingy. Dark, wood tables and matching chairs, their seat cushions covered in red vinyl. Most of the customers were older people, taking advantage of the Pensioner’s Special Lunch that was prominently advertised. Viv ordered a lasagne and salad. “Is Noreen working today?” she asked the waiter.
“She’ll be in at one,” he said.
It was five minutes past when Viv recognised Noreen’s strident tone. “Sorry I’m a bit late getting in, Mickey,” she told the man. “I had a very late night.”
Viv watched Noreen clearing plates from the tables on the far side of the restaurant, until she got an opportunity to attract her attention.
“Excuse me, please.”
“Can I help ye?” Noreen said.
“Could I have a cup of black coffee?”
“Of course. Comin’up.”
“You’re Noreen, aren’t you?”
“Ye-s. Do I know ye?”
“We met last night, at the Guildhall reception.”
“We did?” Noreen smiled, showing her gold, front tooth. “You’ll have to excuse me if I don’t rightly remember you, but it was a great night, wasn’t it.” She started to walk back towards the kitchen.
“Do you have a minute?” Viv asked. “There’s something I’d like to talk about.”
Noreen glanced at the clock behind the bar counter. “I’ll bring yer coffee. I can take a quick break if you can wait until those lot have left.” She nodded towards the older people, seated at long tables on the opposite side of the restaurant. “The bus picks ‘em up at two.”
There was a row of metal tables and chairs outside the restaurant, interspersed between mini conifers in oversized pots. Noreen lit a cigarette and sucked the smoke in, her cheeks hollowing, the skin puckering into well-worn grooves around her lips. Viv had worn her newly laundered crew neck, leather jacket and jeans. She wasn’t surprised Noreen didn’t remember her. They were both dressed very differently than they had been twelve hours ago. Viv felt different inside too, as if she was seeing everything from a fresh perspective. She had a new sense of purpose. She was prepared to follow any avenue that might lead to her father’s murderer and those responsible.