by Amy Cronin
Doherty nodded, said “I’m all ears,” and waited as William sorted through the notes in his lap. William cleared his throat to begin. “So, this is every bit as bad as you can imagine. Elise Taylor has broken every code of this office in the most appalling way. The good news is, we have uncovered a vast trail of evidence that will secure a conviction, without question. Elise tested positive for gunshot residue on her hands. Her fingerprints are all over the gun, and the gun is confirmed as the weapon used to shoot both victims. It’s not a Garda-issue weapon and it was fitted with a silencer. We can only assume she got it from her boyfriend. We’ll know more on that in the coming days.”
“The boyfriend. David Gallagher?”
“Yes, the younger son of Tom Gallagher.”
Doherty exhaled loudly through his teeth.
“The gun is most likely stolen. Ballistics are trying to trace it now and are checking to see if it was involved in any other crimes. The fact that she didn’t care to use gloves or disguise herself in any way perhaps shows us her mental state at the time. She must have known she could be identified. It stands to reason she planned not to leave any witnesses.”
“Nor to stick around after the fact,” Doherty interjected.
“Quite.” William carried on in a tone that indicated Doherty would be best to stay quiet until he had finished his story. “Anna Clarke and Myles Henderson corroborate each other’s account of what happened in the briefing room. We have no doubts about what happened on Monday evening.”
“Right. How did Elise get mixed up in all this? And why?”
Doherty’s tone was impatient – there were still so many unknown facts.
William took a deep breath. “This is where we had to dig a little deeper. We searched Elise’s apartment, her workstation, her mobile phone. But it was while searching through her personal laptop that we struck gold, so to speak. The emails between Elise and David Gallagher yielded a lot of information, enough to convince us of why as well as how this happened.”
Doherty leant forward.
“It would appear that Elise was assigned to a domestic violence case in late 2015. A complaint was made by Kate Crowley against her sister’s partner, David Gallagher. Over the next few years, the instances of abuse continued, as did Elise’s investigations. I say investigations, but really, there is strong evidence to suggest Elise informed David Gallagher after every report was made.” William pulled a typed sheet of paper from his folder and passed it across the table to Doherty. “This is just a sample. You will read here at the top of the page that Kate Crowley attended the Lee Street Garda station at 21:00 on the eleventh of January 2016 and made a complaint of assault against David Gallagher. She was interviewed by Elise for twenty-three minutes. At 21:41, Elise’s mobile phone was used to call a number we have traced to David Gallagher. The call lasted four minutes. The pattern continued like that since then. Kate would make a formal complaint, not always interviewed by Elise, mind you, but Elise would always phone Gallagher shortly after.”
Doherty looked flabbergasted. “Why on earth did she do that?”
“Because she was in a relationship with him,” William answered matter-of-factly. He pulled a bundle of A4 size photographs from the folder and passed them across the table.
“We found these photographs on Elise’s laptop. These are just a selection – there are hundreds. The dates vary, going between 2016 and up to six weeks ago, shortly before Gallagher was shot.”
Doherty looked at each photograph in turn, his face growing paler with each one. Some he had to twist to a different angle in order to make out what was going on. They were all sexual in nature, and all featured Elise and David Gallagher. It appeared there was either a third party in the room with them, or they had set up a camera to take photographs automatically. After a few minutes Doherty passed the photographs back and cleared his throat.
There was disgust in his voice as he asked, “So she did all this because she was sleeping with him?”
He felt quite unnerved by the younger detective’s composure – the man had worked with Elise too! – but he reminded himself that he’d had days to go over the evidence, and he hadn’t known Elise Taylor for as long as Doherty had. The shock of it all had surely worn off William Ryan.
“I think it was more than just sleeping with him. I think it was an extreme infatuation. We found emails Elise sent to David Gallagher, love letters really, begging him to leave Cork behind and start a new life with her. Gallagher’s emails alluded to his intention to take over from his father and run the family business. He had no interest in ever leaving Cork. That intensified over time – he simply wouldn’t even consider it. I think Elise viewed herself as Juliet and Gallagher as Romeo, star-crossed lovers on different sides of the tracks, unable to be together. By all accounts, Gallagher gave Elise just enough to keep her as his bit on the side, and his informant, for all those years.”
“But what about the information she stole. Why did she get involved in that?”
“Ah!” William said with relish. “Here it gets really interesting. In David Gallagher’s emails he bragged about dealings with the Meier brothers out of Munich. There’s information in here that the German authorities will be interested in. Also, there’s an intermediary in the picture.”
William referred to his notes. “A man named Alan Ainsley, who Gallagher referred to as a middleman between himself and other gangs, and that includes the Meiers. Ainsley has been missing for two days, by the way, according to his wife. It seems David was storing stolen merchandise given to him by the Meiers, in deals arranged by Alan Ainsley. Anyway, Elise accessed the security arrangements for the political conference at work. She downloaded it onto an external hard drive. We now know that’s the memory key. Our security systems had a major hole in them there, if you don’t mind me saying. There was no fail-safe to prevent her downloading the data.”
“She was a senior detective!” Doherty’s attempt at bluster was half-hearted. He motioned for William to carry on.
“We have a series of emails and texts between Elise and David Gallagher that paint the picture for us quite neatly. Gallagher had Alan Ainsley enquire if the information was worth anything on an international level. Ainsley found that it was. A meeting was set up with the Meiers. It seems they too were intermediaries; they had a buyer lined up, a man Gallagher referred to in his emails as ‘The Dutchman’. We have no other intel on who that might be. The deal was struck for David to sell them the data Elise stole. It would be unclear why David cut his father out of that deal except for part of Kate Crowley’s conversation with Anna Clarke, where she stated David had boasted that he had planned to show his father how real men made real money.”
“How much are we talking?”
“Half a million euro.”
Silence descended on the small office. William stayed quiet while his boss digested the story so far. Doherty pulled a packet of chewing gum from his desk drawer and popped one into his mouth. He was aware his hands were shaking.
“Go on,” he instructed, though he sounded as though he didn’t want to hear any more.
“According to Anna Clarke, and this is based on her conversation with Kate Crowley, the Crowley sisters stole money and the intelligence data from David Gallagher. It’s unclear how much money was stolen. Of course, the Crowleys had no knowledge of what was contained on the memory key, at least according to Kate Crowley. The Meiers attempted to contact David Gallagher personally to pick up the items, but it appears they took his brother John instead; David was dead and unavailable to them. The Meiers made themselves known to the Gallagher family, all in search of the memory key. We are looking into the killing of the Addams cousins, Gallagher’s security men, in that respect. David was terrified of the Meiers, it seems, and made efforts to recover the memory key but found the whole lot missing. Natalie Crowley fled the country, but Kate was unable to leave, ambushed in her house by Gallagher. What followed was a confrontation with David Gallagher, in which he was shot.
Most likely self-defence, if you ask me. She is still missing. But she did turn over the memory key to Anna Clarke, which seemed quite fortuitous for us. However, we know now that HQ were aware of the security breach and new plans were already in place.”
“And all of us were under suspicion,” Doherty muttered sourly.
“So it would seem.”
Doherty exhaled loudly and clasped his hands together in front of him on the desk. It all made perfect sense when looked at with the benefit of hindsight. But Elise Taylor … mixed up with David Gallagher like that … he just couldn’t believe it.
“OK, OK!” He held up his hands. “Why did the Meiers decide to come to Cork and not go through this middleman?”
“That’s unclear, but I imagine time was ticking to the start of the conference, and perhaps the Dutchman was applying pressure. For whatever reason, the Meiers decided to pay a personal visit. We can confirm a farmhouse was rented not far from the city – forensics have been there since Friday morning. We believe four members of the Meier family stayed there. We should be able to collect enough DNA evidence to connect them to the samples retrieved from the bodies found in the burnt-out vehicle on Monastery Road, and once our German colleagues confirm a DNA match, we’ll tie that up. In the farmhouse we have significant blood staining and evidence of torture in one room. The landlord raised the alarm when he called to inspect the property – his statement has been taken. I believe John Gallagher was held and tortured there. He was presented at the A&E department in the early hours on Sunday night with significant injuries.”
“Bloody hell!”
“Quite,” William said. “I think the Meiers killed the Addams cousins as a warning to Tom Gallagher, to push him to hand over the memory key. Except, according to David’s emails, Tom Gallagher didn’t know of its existence. Elise played her role well, visiting Gallagher to further rattle him, requesting a warrant to search his house, seemingly investigating the crime from the point of view that Gallagher was responsible.”
Doherty shook his head in disbelief at the deception that had played out under his nose. Elise had been so convincing.
“Of course, Elise had other avenues at her disposal,” Ryan carried on. “Our background analysis tells us she had a tough childhood and grew up in a dangerous environment – but she has contacts all over the city. She wanted Kate Crowley found and she very nearly did it. She planned to avenge her lover’s death, either herself or by handing Kate over to Gallagher. He had put a price on her head, a bounty if you like. Anna Clarke can confirm Gallagher’s men were searching for Kate – there was a run-in in a club in town. Kate Crowley has disappeared.”
Doherty’s face was now bright red. He sat back in this chair, dreading how this report would read to his superiors in Dublin. He had heard enough.
“Well done, detective. You’ve been busy. So we are well covered for a conviction for Elise Taylor?”
“Oh yes, sir!” William said, rubbing his hands together.
Doherty could see the man was thoroughly enjoying himself.
52
One week later
Janet McCarthy’s funeral took place in the first week of December. Anna was emotional before she even set foot in the church – the same day marked ten years since her parents had disappeared. Normally, on this date every year, she had felt a burning anger and disappointment that she still had no answers. But this year it had been quelled somewhat, replaced by the constant threat of tears and a trembling in her hands. However, Vivian’s visit had revived and comforted Anna, and she was thrilled by the fact that her best friend was home for good. She was glad of her now.
Anna knew she was recovering from the trauma of the last few weeks. She had returned to the gym daily. Her body felt stronger and her mind clearer. She was teaching her beloved Taekwon-Do Tykes again. Everything in her life was almost back to normal, though she doubted she would ever feel normal again.
On the day of the funeral Gardaí lined the streets, stiff-backed and in full uniform, outside the church. Media cameras and personnel were present but kept outside. The service for Janet McCarthy was dignified, the church full of family, friends and colleagues. Government ministers and dignitaries were also in attendance. The church was packed full of people keen to pay their respects to a woman they held in high esteem. Janet was given the highest honour.
Anna stood between Myles and Alex during the service, in a pew behind Lauren and some of her other co-workers. Myles needed her support physically, and she was glad of the distraction that offered. His wounds were healing well, but slowly. He was lucky to be on his feet so soon. He had been discharged from hospital and was recovering at his mother’s house in Dublin in between rounds of physiotherapy in Dún Laoghaire. He had travelled to Cork for the ceremony with his brother. Anna knew Myles had a long road of physiotherapy and pain management ahead, but he was characteristically optimistic. And happy to be home to enjoy his mother’s cooking, seafood aside.
As Anna observed the mourners, she realised how little she knew about Janet McCarthy on a personal level. She had found her Chief Superintendent to be decisive and kind. Anna observed Janet’s husband and two grown-up daughters in the front pew. She had sympathised with them before the service. Their faces still registered their shock at her sudden death. With tears blinding her, Anna turned away, unable to bear looking at their grief any longer. Anna had been present in Janet’s last moments, and they haunted her dreams. She gripped Myles’ hand and he squeezed hers back.
It was with some interest that Anna noticed the Taoiseach standing near the front of the church. He was flanked by security personnel and a number of his department staff. Two of the women beside him sniffed throughout the service, and a man that was part of his group wiped his eyes constantly. Janet had obviously made an impact in the course of her career, which didn’t surprise Anna. The ceremonial aspect of the Garda funeral was very emotional; there wasn’t a dry eye inside the church.
Reporters waited outside. Elise Taylor’s crimes were national news.
Lauren removed her glasses to better wipe her eyes and sobbed loudly. Anna rubbed her arm. It felt good to focus on comforting her friend – it offered a welcome distraction from her own emotions, which still threatened to overwhelm her. Continuously she drew deep breaths into her lungs, focused on her breathing; it distracted her, and steadied her nerves.
Anna was intrigued by the fact that the tall man to the Taoiseach’s left greeted Myles by name as they moved slowly from the church after the ceremony. He was dressed in a black suit and put on a pair of dark sunglasses as he exited.
“How are you recovering, Mr. Henderson?”
Anna stopped and let Myles and the government official walk on, Myles shuffling with his walking stick. She wondered how they knew each other. They exchanged words for a few minutes, then Myles turned to Anna again and smiled. She moved towards him once more, and they continued their slow pace back to his brother’s car.
“Who was that guy? Have the Men in Black finally come to take you away?” she asked lightly. She was intrigued to see a slight blush creep into his cheeks.
Detective Sergeant William Ryan appeared beside them and interrupted the moment. Myles exhaled in relief – and it wasn’t lost on Anna. William made small talk for a few minutes, enquiring about Myles’ recovery, rubbing his hands together in the cold.
A mountain of a man approached them; noting his stressed-out expression, Anna assumed the newly promoted Chief Superintendent Doherty was in his usual form. He looked down at her, his bald head gleaming in the winter sunlight.
“How are you, Nancy Drew?”
Anna met his eyes and found they were kind; his huge meaty hand gripped her arm and squeezed gently.
“You take your time coming back to work – there’s no rush.”
As quickly as he had arrived, Doherty was gone. He walked briskly towards a group of suited men standing at the edge of the carpark, his trench coat flapping in the breeze. William Ryan made his e
xcuses, and he left them as well. Anna watched him go. He had been good to her and Myles over the last week, filling them in with as much information as he could. William was confident there was enough evidence to lock Elise up for the rest of her life. Anna knew that Elise still refused to speak, even to her legal counsel. Anna wouldn’t lose any sleep over the fate Elise had carved out for herself.
Myles smiled at Anna, and they continued their slow pace.
When they reached Myles’ brother’s car, he turned to her, his brown eyes heavy with tiredness. The physical exertion of attending Janet’s funeral had taken a toll on him.
“Can we get together after Christmas?” He pulled open the car door.
“Sure.” Anna smiled at him.
Myles bent his head and kissed her on the cheek, then disappeared into the car.
Anna spotted Alex waiting for her to the left of the church entrance. He linked arms with her as they walked to his car.
“You doing OK?” he asked, his voice full of concern.
Anna felt a rush of love for him – her amazing big brother, who had lost his parents ten years ago today too, was always worried that she was alright.
“I’m getting there,” she said, squeezing his arm. “You?”
“Getting there,” he replied softly, and they walked on.
53
Kate Crowley stepped from a train at the station in Chartres, France. It was dry and bright, the winter sun high in the sky. She rolled her neck from side to side and leant to the left and right, to stretch out the joints in her body that had sat upright for far too long. Slinging her red bag onto her shoulder, she stood on tiptoes to better see over the heads of the alighting passengers. There was no sign of Natalie.
It had taken her over a week to get here and she had been in contact with Natalie the whole time. Purchasing a mobile phone was one of the smartest things she had done lately. It felt good to be able to text or call her sister whenever she liked, and to have access to the internet. She remembered how she had been too scared to buy one when she was still in Cork, in case it led to her being arrested or found by the Gallaghers. She realised she should have taken the risk – the Gallaghers had been able to find her anyway.