“Yes. I do.” Maura held his gaze, but she still had no idea what he wanted.
The man settled himself against the stone wall he’d been leaning on. “Paddy was my own blood. I don’t know what yeh know of Limerick, but it’s safe to say that we look after our own.”
This conversation was going nowhere. “Look, Mr. Creegan, I’ve never been to Limerick, and I never knew your nephew Paddy. As far as I know, he never came into Sullivan’s, but I could be wrong. It seems to be purely a coincidence that his body was left here and I was the one who found him. So what is it you want from me? Why are you here?”
It almost looked to Maura as though he smiled. “I have been informed by a reliable source that you possess information about the manner of Paddy’s death.”
She guessed that Sergeant Ryan was the reliable source, or one of his prior Limerick colleagues. “If that’s so, why do you want that information?”
“Wouldn’t you, if it was yer family?”
“I suppose.” Maura squared her shoulders. “Look, I don’t want trouble, for me or anybody else. If I share what I know, can you promise me that you won’t just kill everybody involved and dump them in a bog somewhere? Or take the bodies back to Limerick and toss them in the river?”
Danny Creegan raised one eyebrow. “Would it upset yeh if I said it would depend on the circumstances?”
“I was raised in Boston. Let’s say it wouldn’t surprise me.”
The man smiled. “Miss Donovan, let me tell you something in confidence, and I’ll trust you not to spread the story around. For all that he was my nephew, Paddy was a danger to himself and to anyone who crossed him. I won’t claim that I and my business associates are all angels, but Paddy wanted results and fast, and he had no patience. Worse, he liked causing people pain. He thought he was owed something, and he didn’t care who he hurt when he went after what he wanted.”
Maura took a moment to digest what he’d just told her. “Are you saying you and your people saw him as a problem? Or to put it simply, he was messing up your business?”
“You could say that. But as you might guess, blood still outweighs business, and my brother loved his boy.”
“Then what the heck are we talking about here?”
“Let me boil it down for yeh. I want to be sure that the boy was not killed by any of my family’s business rivals, or anyone who thinks they’re righting a wrong that’s been done to them by the Creegans. Because that would require a certain course of action on our part. But if we were to learn that he had died accidentally, or that those who were a party to it had no connection to our family or anyone else in Limerick, then we can lay the matter to rest. Do you understand what I’m sayin’?”
Maura felt a strange mix of hope and relief. Maybe there was a light at the end of this tunnel after all. “I think I do. I can tell you that this is a crime that happened only because Paddy was involved, and you could say he brought it on himself. Can I trust you that this will go no further, and there won’t be any bad consequences, if I tell you what happened?”
“If you tell me the truth, I’ll take the tale back to Limerick. I will give you my word, which I hope is still worth something in Cork.”
“Then here’s the story…”
Chapter Thirty-Three
When she was finished telling the story yet again, Maura felt drained. It was simple and it was complicated at the same time. But she was pretty sure that no one had set out to kill Paddy Creegan, and it would be hard to tell whose blow had been the final one, much less find that person, who could be anywhere in Ireland by now. At least she’d had the brains to involve Sergeant Ryan in the mess: she could let him explain it all to the higher-ups of the gardaí. They’d already heard too many strange stories from her.
Danny Creegan had listened without interrupting, his eyes on her face, his expression neutral. When she had finished, he didn’t speak immediately, and then he said slowly, “I’d always feared he would end like this. He had little control of himself, and he didn’t think things through. I won’t say I’m glad he’s dead, but it’s one less worry fer me.”
“What happens now?” Maura asked.
“I go home and tell the family that Paddy’s death was the result of a fight among strangers and had nothin’ to do with us. I might not be so forthcoming with our enemies—let them stew a bit, thinkin’ we suspect them.”
“Am I in the clear? And the pub?”
“The news said the boy had been killed elsewhere and the body dumped along the road here. There’s nothing that points to your lot.”
“And Sophie and Niall? Are you going after them?”
“And why should we be doin’ that? Niall paid fer his crossing. Mebbe Sophie might owe somethin’ in theory, but Niall was only protecting his sister. In a way it’s a part of the business—Paddy just didn’t look closely at the two of them, and they outfoxed him. What happened after wasn’t their fault.”
“So they can stay here, if they want? In the clear?”
“Yes. You’ll tell ’em?”
“I will.”
Danny Creegan leaned back and looked at her with some curiosity. “Can I ask why that matters so much to yeh? You’ve no connection to the pair of ’em.”
Why did she? Maura had to ask herself, and took her time putting it into words. “Because they’re good kids who got caught up in something at a difficult time in their lives. All they wanted was to come home, and to stay together. They might have taken an illegal shortcut, with Paddy, but they had good reasons. I think they like it here in Cork, and I’d like to see them stay, but not if they have to keep looking over their shoulders all the time. Did Paddy have brothers?”
“Who might try to finish what he started? No, he was the only boy, to his mother’s great regret. Maybe that’s why he felt so … entitled, I’d say.” Danny pushed himself off from the wall and stood up. “See me out?”
“You want to go through the pub, or slip out the back way?”
Danny Creegan looked at Maura and almost smiled. “I might want to give a nod to my mate in the corner, let him know our business is done.”
“Did he have to call in any favors, or shouldn’t I be asking that?”
“Let’s say he stopped what might have been trouble in its tracks, which is a good thing for all of us. It’s been a pleasure meetin’ yeh, Maura Donovan.”
She finally smiled. “I can’t say quite the same thing, but it’s been interesting. Thank you for sorting things out, and for doing it in person.”
“It’s best yeh don’t mention yeh’ve seen me, much less here.”
“I’ll try, but I have to tell my staff—Mick and Rose—because they’ve been involved from the beginning, and they know you’re here. But they do know when to keep their mouth shut.”
“A good quality fer someone working in a pub, I’d say.” He followed Maura out through the main room, gave a nod to Conor Ryan in the corner, and left, in no particular hurry. Maura turned around and found Mick and Rose staring at her, although Sergeant Ryan didn’t look troubled. She decided to deal with the garda first and headed for his table.
She leaned over and said quietly, “Thank you.”
“So it’s all fixed?”
“It is. If he keeps his word, and none of his gang decides to do something on their own. Can he control them?”
“I’d say he can. And in truth, Paddy died because of his own stupidity and pigheadedness, which I’d guess was well known in certain circles. Yeh can rest easy, Maura.” He stood up. “I’ll see myself out.”
Which left Mick and Rose waiting to be filled in. Better get it over with before more people arrived. She walked over to the bar and said, “If I was a drinker, I’d ask for a straight whiskey about now. But that’s not a good idea, so I’ll settle for a coffee.”
“Will yeh see to it, Rose?” Mick asked, then turned back to Maura. “Was that who I think it was?”
“Probably, if you’re thinking of a Limerick gang boss. But he was
never here and you didn’t see him. Conor fixed things, and I’d say we’re in his debt, but we shouldn’t expect any trouble from the other side. The man, who will stay nameless, said that no one would come after Sophie and Niall, and he’ll spread the word among his friends—and his enemies—that Paddy died in a pointless fight, which probably won’t surprise anybody up that way.”
Rose slid the coffee across the bar, and it was obvious she’d been listening. “So yeh’ll tell Sophie it’s safe, and she can tell Niall?”
“That’s what the guy said. I think he was honest about it, and Conor says he’ll keep his word. And we’re pretty small fish down here—not worth bothering with.” Maura took a fortifying gulp of her coffee. “So it looks like we’re back where we started. I hope Sophie managed to explain to Sinéad why she missed a day, but if there’s a problem, I’ll explain things to Sinéad. And can I offer Niall a job here? If he wants it, that is. Even if he doesn’t stay long, maybe he can fill in long enough to get things sorted out for the summer.”
“I’ve no problem with that,” Mick said. Rose nodded in agreement. “Yeh can tell him as soon as Sophie finds him.” He hesitated for a moment. “A word with yeh? In the back?”
“Okay,” Maura said, and followed him to the back room. What did he want? She couldn’t take any more complications in her life, not right now. She was startled when Mick grabbed her and pulled her close, and then she felt something untangle inside her—which made her realize how intense her conversation with a mob boss had been, and how lucky she was to have come out of it on the winning end. But for the moment she was content just to lean against Mick and try to relax her muscles.
“I could’ve gone with yeh,” he said, without releasing his hold.
“And he probably wouldn’t have been as straight if there were two of us.” Now Maura pushed back, just a bit. “Look, Mick, this was my problem to take care of. I found the body, and I had to protect the pub, and the rest of you. That’s nothing against you, but sometimes I need to handle things alone. Now if a bunch of drunken partyers barge in some night, I’ll be happy to let you deal with them.”
“I was worried, is all,” he replied. “I know yeh’re yer own woman and can take care of yerself, but I care fer yeh—so I worry. Sorry—it’s something of a new feelin’, thinking about somebody else.”
“I know, believe me. But maybe things will calm down now, if Niall can help out at least part of the time. And Rose and Sophie have hit it off, and Sophie’s a good cook, so maybe they can figure out something to do with our kitchen. Oh, and can I offer Niall and Sophie the rooms upstairs? They don’t have any way of getting around, but we’re right on the bus line…”
“Maura, will yeh stop tryin’ to solve every problem at once?” He finally stopped her from talking with a kiss, and Maura was more than happy to simply let go of everything else.
The sound of new voices in the front room finally interrupted them some time later. Gillian’s was one of them. When had she last updated Gillian on what was going on? Probably not since Gillian had handed her the sketches, which had been important. And now there were things she had to edit out of the story, that would make sense to Gillian, who wasn’t dumb. But since she’d played a part, she deserved to know at least part of the story. Reluctantly Maura backed away from Mick. “I’d better get out there—I’ve got to figure out what to tell Gillian.”
“Less than the whole truth?” Mick asked.
“That’s what I promised … that man. Not that I don’t trust Gillian, but the fewer people who know the full story, the less loose talk there’ll be.”
Maura left the back room and found Gillian, a sleeping young Henry strapped to her chest, chatting with Billy. Gillian waved her over. “Big doings, I hear. You’ve identified that poor man?”
“The gardaí did, thanks to your sketches. Turns out he was from Limerick, not around here. The gardaí think he got into a fight with someone—or maybe more than one someone—and when they found he was dead, they panicked and dumped him here. They’re satisfied it’s nothing to do with Sullivan’s.”
“Will they arrest someone for the killing?” Gillian asked.
“Right now they don’t have any suspects. But you know that an unsolved death is never closed in Ireland.”
“That I do.”
Maura looked at Billy, and he winked at her. She didn’t doubt she knew the full story, one way or another, but he wasn’t going to be spreading it around. Maura smiled back at him, then turned back to Gillian. “Can I get you something?”
“I’ve been told that a Guinness helps with, uh, Henry’s dinner, so could I have a small one?”
“Coming up. Billy, you ready for a pint?”
“I won’t say no,” he told her.
Maura went over to the bar and started filling the glasses. Rose said quickly, “I’ll take care of ’em, if yeh want to talk to Gillian.”
“Thanks, Rose.” Maura turned to find that Gillian had stood up and was standing across the room looking at the space above the bar, where Maura had hung several of Gillian’s smaller paintings.
“They do look cheerful there, although maybe that’s not the feeling you’re looking for in a pub. Has anyone shown any interest?”
“No offers yet, I’m sorry to report. But please don’t start painting dark, gritty art just to put in here—that’s not your style. Any word from the Crann Mor people about buying some for the place?”
“I think we’ve worked out the terms, but I haven’t seen a contract yet.”
Maura grinned. “Well, if they drag their feet, I have connections.”
“That you do. Any word on that front?”
“Nothing new. Helen will probably be back in the next few months, and we’ll take it from there. But Harry’s already looking at the books, right?”
“That he is. And all’s well here at Sullivan’s?”
“I think so. I’ve got a line on one or two new staffers, which should help. As long as people forget about the body—and I can keep Seamus and his pals from poking around too much—business should get back to normal.”
“I certainly hope so!” Gillian said, raising the glass that Rose had just delivered to her.
When the door opened again, Maura saw the Albertsons surging into the pub. “Oh, good, you’re still here,” Linda said. “We wanted to thank you for helping us with a place to stay and pointing out some good places to go. We’ve had a wonderful time! I wish now that we’d planned to stay longer. Isn’t that right, Marv?”
“Sure is,” he said heartily. He leaned in closer, “Don’t let her hear it, but I think even Jannie enjoyed herself, not that she’d admit it.”
“I’m glad. Ireland does have a way of getting under your skin. Can I get you something? Are you leaving tonight or tomorrow?”
“Maybe sodas all around,” Marv told her. “I’ve managed to stay out of trouble with all this driving on the left this long, and I’d hate to blow it now. Linda, that okay with you?”
But Linda was distracted, looking up at the paintings hung over the bar. “Look, Marv, aren’t these pretty? And didn’t we see some of these very places?” she asked, pointing.
“Could be,” Marv agreed carefully.
Maura suppressed a smile. “Well, you can find out easily, because the artist is sitting right over there.”
“Really? She’s a local artist? I’d love to talk with her.”
“I’ll send her right over.” Maura crossed the room and leaned over so only Gillian could here. “If you talk nicely to them, they might even buy something. They’re the Albertsons, Linda and Marv, and they’ve had a wonderful time and no doubt want something to remember it by. Want me to hold Henry?”
“Please,” Gillian said, and handed over the baby.
Maura took her seat when she stood up and placed the baby on her lap. “Hi, Henry. How’re things?”
Henry stared at her, then reached out to try to grab her nose. Maura fended him off and watched as Gillian introdu
ced herself to the Albertsons and began identifying the sites of the various pictures. After several minutes, Linda seemed to have decided on one in particular, a small watercolor that Maura recognized as Bridget’s cottage. “And I’m sure we can fit it in our carry-on, Marv.”
“Of course we can,” he told her, then turned back to Gillian to finish the transaction.
Finally Gillian cadged some Bubble Wrap from Mick and handed the Albertsons a carefully wrapped package. The family waved their farewells, and Gillian returned to her earlier seat. “I think our luck has changed, Maura Donovan. They didn’t even quibble about the price. Join me in a drink? And maybe Mick as well? I think we should celebrate.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Also available by Sheila Connolly
The County Cork Mysteries
Many a Twist
Cruel Winter
A Turn for the Bad
An Early Wake
Scandal in Skibbereen
Buried in a Bog
The Museum Mysteries
Dead End Street
Privy to the Dead
Razing the Dead
Monument to the Dead
Fire Engine Dead
Let’s Play Dead
Fundraising the Dead
The Glassblowing Mysteries (as Sarah Atwell)
Snake in the Glass
Pane of Death
Through a Glass, Deadly
The Orchard Mysteries
A Late Frost
Seeds of Deception
A Gala Event
Picked to Die
Golden Malicious
Sour Apples
Bitter Harvest
A Killer Crop
Red Delicious Death
Rotten to the Core
One Bad Apple
The Relatively Dead Mysteries
Search for the Dead
Watch for the Dead
Defending the Dead
Seeing the Dead
Relatively Dead
Also available
Reunion With Death
Once She Knew
Author Biography
The Lost Traveller Page 25