Murder on Clare Island: A Garda West Novel (A Garda West Crime Novel Book 3)

by Valerie Keogh

  Hall sipped the almost cold tea and listened as West took him through the information he had learned from Daisy and their resultant interviews with the people at Toormore House.

  ‘Garda Andrews put the final nail in the coffin of that idea when he found out that no change of use application had been made. He did find out some information about Finbarr.’ West quickly summarised the other man’s drug history.

  ‘So you were right,’ Hall said.

  ‘It’s not getting us any nearer to finding Eoin Breathnach’s killer though, is it?’ West said. ‘I hope you have some news from the window-company to cheer us up.’

  Hall smiled ruefully. ‘Well I have, and I haven’t,’ he said putting his cup down.

  West said nothing.

  Hall blushed slightly. ‘I did an internet search for the company in Westport. Unfortunately, it folded last year. There weren’t any details so I decided to visit the industrial part where it had been to see what I could learn. The office next door to it was open and they were happy to tell me.’ He stopped a moment and when he continued he spoke more quietly. ‘The business here with the windows broke them. Literally. They couldn’t absorb the loss and had to close down shortly afterward. There were eighteen people working there, they all lost their jobs.’

  ‘What happened to the owner?’

  Hall blinked. ‘He hung himself.’

  ‘Damn,’ West said, shocked. ‘Had he a family?’

  ‘A wife and three children. The man I spoke to said she was racked with grief. Doubly so, it seems because she was the one who heard about the job and told him. She’d heard about it from her sister.’

  Eamonn Hall looked from one to the other. ‘Edel Higgins.’

  23

  Nobody spoke for a few minutes, each of them digesting the information. West nodded. It wouldn’t have taken much strength to push Eoin Breathnach into the water, nor to bash his fingers to prevent his getting out. A woman fired with rage could have done it. And Edel Higgins would certainly have hated the man who’d caused her sister such grief. It fit. Motive and opportunity. Now they just needed proof or a confession, or preferably, both.

  ‘Ok,’ he said at last, ‘good work, Eamonn. Let’s go and see what the lady has to say for herself, eh? We’ll get a DNA sample too and send it to Dublin. If she handled it, she may have left trace epithelials.’

  ‘You really think it could be her?’ Kelly asked.

  West and Hall exchanged glances. ‘It could be,’ West said at last, ‘but we’ll continue to keep an open mind. Let’s see what she has to say for herself. So far we only have supposition.’

  ‘She kept it all quiet. Did she think you wouldn’t look into it?’ Kelly said.

  ‘Not every garda is as efficient as Sergeant West,’ Hall said with an admiring glance toward the older man. ‘I wouldn’t have thought that something that happened almost two years ago would have been relevant.’

  ‘Revenge is a dish best served cold, isn’t that the saying,’ Kelly said. ‘She bided her time until she was ready. Maybe she thought like you, that two years was long enough to put people off the scent.’

  West frowned. ‘Let’s not get carried away, please. This is still just supposition. We need a lot more before we can go accusing the woman.’

  Kelly shot Hall a side-ways look, and winked. He smiled and they headed out to his car.

  For a change, the gates to Toormore House were open so they drove straight through and parked. It was early afternoon but the light was already fading, the sky behind the house streaked with the orange of the setting sun.

  ‘The Higgins’ have an apartment around the side,’ West said, leading the way as he spoke. There was no light within, and no sound to be heard. West knocked lightly and they waited. He knocked again, a little harder and once again they waited. This time, they heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching and then the rattle as a key was turned in the lock.

  It was Jim Higgins, his face a mask of puzzlement. ‘You back again? Why didn’t you knock on the main door?’

  ‘We want to speak to your wife,’ West explained. ‘May we come in?’

  ‘She won’t be happy about that,’ the man said, shaking his head, a grim expression on his face.

  ‘Unfortunately, Mr Higgins, we do need to speak to her. May I remind you, we are investigating a murder? In fact, we’ve a couple of questions for you too.’

  Jim Higgins stared at him and then with a grunt, stood back to allow them in. He directed them to a small, comfortable room dominated by a television screen. The shelves on either side held a collection of movies. Crime movies mostly, West noticed, glancing around the room.

  ‘You didn’t tell us of your connection to the window company, Mr Higgins, why was that?’

  The man shrugged. ‘It’s not something we speak about. It happened. It’s done. What’s the point in dragging it up and causing more grief?’

  West gave him a sharp look. ‘Your wife’s brother-in-law committed suicide because Eoin Breathnach withdrew his business. Now he is dead, and you didn’t think the connection worth mentioning?’

  The man drew back, eyes wide. ‘Now hang on just a minute! You can’t think Edel had anything to do with his murder. That’s ridiculous.’

  ‘Is it?’ West asked softly.

  Jim Higgins ran a hand through his hair. ‘Of course it is. She didn’t like the man, but she wouldn’t have murdered him. Murder. For goodness sake.’

  ‘Perhaps we should talk to her.’

  ‘She’s in the House,’ he said. ‘I’ll go fetch her. We have a connecting door for convenience.’

  Just then they heard a door opening and quick footsteps along the hallway. Edel appeared, her eyes searching for her husband’s. ‘I saw your car from the bedroom window,’ she said, turning to West. ‘I waited for you to ring the front doorbell. When you didn’t, when you came straight here, I guessed you’d discovered about my brother-in-law.’ As she saw the truth on their faces, she turned a sickly shade and reached a trembling hand out to steady herself.

  Unexpectedly sympathetic to the woman, Kelly said gently, ‘Why don’t we sit down?’

  There was a bit of fuss as they all tried to find seats in the small room. It had the effect of relieving some of the tension, and it was in a calm voice that Edel replied to West’s comments.

  ‘We don’t speak about it at all. Never have done. Jemma, my sister, is barely holding it together.’ Her eyes met West’s. ‘She never held it against me, you know, never once said if it weren’t for me, Dave would still be alive.’ She sniffed. ‘She doesn’t have to. I’ve felt guilty every day since.’ She smiled sadly at her husband. ‘Jim tells me I’m being silly, and he’s right, I suppose, I told Dave about the job with the best intentions. But,’ she bit her lip, ‘Breathnach was a nasty piece of work. I knew what he was like, had seen his dealings over the years. I should have known better than to get involved, to allow Dave get involved.’ She stopped, ran a hand over her face and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her voice under control again, she continued. ‘But business was slow for him, and it was a big contract. Windows,’ she said with a shake of her head, ‘you’d think it couldn’t go wrong.’

  ‘But then it did,’ West said.

  Edel nodded. ‘A hiccup. They were made double-glazed, not triple. It was just a hiccup, easily remedied. But Breathnach blew a gasket and cancelled the contract. Dave tried everything, offered him a discount, then a bigger discount. Breathnach laughed in his face. Kept saying he was a one-strike kind of man. As if that made it all ok.’

  ‘Couldn’t you have asked Sylvia to intercede?’ Kelly asked.

  Edel shook her head. ‘She was away. In New York, I think. She didn’t move here until it was all done. She didn’t know about the fuss. A couple of weeks later, a company from Dublin came and installed his triple glazed windows. They laughed when they heard about the previous company’s mistake. Laughed,’ she repeated grimly.

  Kelly and West exchanged a glance. Now
they understood her dislike of Dubs.

  An air of sadness settled over the room. The light was almost gone outside but no-one moved to switch a lamp on, so they sat in increasing darkness. The room was becoming chilly too, a set but unlit fire beckoning vainly for a match.

  ‘Why did you wait until now to kill him?’ West asked gently.

  Edel lifted her chin with a jerk that disturbed an unshed tear. It ran down her cheek and plopped onto her shirt. ‘You have no idea how happy I am that he is dead, and that he died in such a way. It seemed fitting. But I didn’t do it.’

  West looked at her closely. ‘You had motive, means and opportunity, Mrs Higgins.’

  ‘Yes, I had,’ she acknowledged, ‘but I didn’t do it. Why would I have waited two years? I had means, motive and opportunity any time he was here. Every time he was here. Why wait? The grief and guilt were worse two years ago. If I didn’t kill him then, I wouldn’t have killed him now when it’s just a constant ache.’

  Remembering the sight of Breathnach’s body, the Lampreys sucking the life out of him, West knew the killer was filled with rage, anger, hate. Not a constant ache.

  ‘You do believe me, don’t you?’ she asked.

  West nodded.

  But it was the second trail that had run cold and, once again, he hadn’t another to follow.

  24

  ‘You think she’s telling the truth?’ Kelly asked, Lagavulin in hand, her feet stretched toward the fire.

  West took a sip of his drink and nodded. ‘I’ll send her DNA off to Dublin but I think we’ll find there’s no match. Assuming there’s anything on the stake.’

  ‘They might have worn gloves.’ Kelly said.

  West grinned at her. ‘Yes, Garda Johnson, the killer may indeed have worn gloves.’ His grin faded. ‘If the lab does find some trace, we’ll have to get DNA from everyone.’

  ‘Higgins’ will already be on it, won’t it?’ she asked, ‘after all he planted the trees, so will have put in the stake.’

  ‘True,’ West muttered, the whiskey and the glowing embers succeeding in lulling him into a state of relaxation where Eoin Breathnach’s death was a fading irritation.

  ‘So what next,’ Kelly asked, finishing her glass.

  West finished his and stood. ‘Next job,’ he said huskily, ‘is reminding you that I’m not just a policeman.’

  It was a good reminder, Kelly thought, over an hour later. He was a remarkably attentive lover. She rose on one arm and turned to him. ‘That was amazing,’ she whispered, and then she smiled. He’d fallen asleep, his breathing relaxed and even, his face softer than it was when awake, his lower lip fuller.

  She watched him for several minutes before laying a hand gently on his chest, bending closer and kissing him, her lips barely touching his. She opened her eyes as she moved away, startled to see his open too. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you,’ she said softly. Then she smiled. ‘But since you are...’ She kissed him lightly again, then moved her lips to his neck, kissing the curve, moving down to his chest, to his stomach and then to the velvet softness that had given her such pleasure before.

  She laughed softly as it changed, becoming hard under her tongue. She heard him groan and took him into her mouth, sucking hard. His groan grew louder. She pulled away and with a swift movement, moved over him, sliding him inside, her groan of pleasure easily matching his. She moved slowly, tantalisingly, until suddenly, he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her under him and with a few quick, hard thrusts he came. Her orgasm, coming on the cusp of his, seemed to pulse on and on.

  ‘Oh God,’ she mumbled, sliding her arms around his back, feeling his weight with a possessive pride.

  ‘That was incredible,’ West muttered in her ear, before rising on his elbows and looking down at her. ‘You have me bewitched, Kelly Johnson.’ He rolled off her, pulled her into his arms and planted a kiss on her head. And within minutes he was asleep.

  Kelly happily satiated, waited for a few minutes and then moved from his arms. He didn’t wake. She envied the speed at which he could fall asleep. Instead, she lay for a long time listening to his gentle snore, thinking about him, admitting, finally, that she loved him. She’d tell him, she decided, and then to the rhythmic sound of his snoring, she too fell asleep.

  Breakfast was, as usual, delicious. Kelly ordered Eggs Benedict, and West, with a comment about all the exercise he’d had the previous day giving him an appetite, ordered a full breakfast.

  ‘So what now?’ Kelly asked, putting her knife and fork down on the empty plate. ‘That was divine, by the way, you should have it tomorrow.’

  West speared his last piece of sausage and popped it in his mouth. ‘We’ll wait and see if Andrews has turned up anything of interest. He has Seamus Baxter working on it, if anyone can find anything it’s Seamus.’

  ‘Will we be returning to Toormore House?’

  West looked at her over the rim of his coffee cup. ‘That sounds like a loaded question to me. Why do you ask?’

  Kelly grinned. ‘It was, I suppose. It’s just that having seen some of Sylvia’s paintings, I’d love to see around her studio and maybe see what she’s working on now. Do you think it would be ok to ask?’

  West shrugged. ‘There’s no harm in asking.’

  Daisy came over to clear away their plates, accepting their compliments with a smile. ‘More coffee?’ she asked. Both shook their heads. Daisy nodded and turned away, turning back almost immediately, the plates balanced in one hand. ‘Do you mind me asking,’ she said, ‘did you find out was there any truth in the plans to convert Toormore into a hotel.’ She shrugged. ‘I understand if you can’t tell me, it would just put my mind at ease, you know. I know competition isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but we could do without the stress to be honest.’

  West understood her concern. He didn’t think it hurt to let her know. After all, if she asked at the planning office, they’d tell her the same. ‘There appears to be no truth in it at all, Daisy.’

  When he saw the woman visibly relax, he realised it was worrying her more than she had admitted, so he decided to go further. ‘In fact,’ he said, ‘I spoke to Roger Tilsdale and he thinks the site is unsuitable for a high-end hotel. Something to do with lack of internet access.’ He didn’t mention Tilsdale’s concerns about erosion, it wasn’t necessary.

  Daisy nodded. ‘We didn’t have access initially. We thought people would like to get away from it all. It turns out that people are quite happy not to have television but not so happy about a lack of internet access. It wasn’t so difficult for us, there are several homes on this part of the island but Toormore is just too far away.’ With that, she smiled and headed away with the plates.

  West finished his coffee and suggested they go for a walk. ‘Andrews will ring eventually but until he does we have nothing to do. Let’s get some fresh air.’

  His mobile rang just as they were about to leave. It was Hall. ‘I’ve sent that hair sample Edel gave us to Dublin,’ the young garda said. ‘While I’m in Westport, I’ve some other work I need to get done, if that’s ok.’

  ‘That’s fine,’ West said. ‘I’m waiting for Garda Andrews to get back to me. When you get here, we can discuss our next step.’

  Pocketing his mobile, he joined Kelly who waited out by the gate. The day was lovely, warmer than it had been with a blue, cloudless sky and a slight breeze. They left their coats unbuttoned and strolled along the cliff-top, holding hands and stopping, now and then, to kiss. On the third kiss, Kelly took her heart in her hands and handed it to him. ‘I love you, Mike,’ she said, and then walked on.

  West opened his mouth to reply and closed it when his mobile chirped again. ‘Great timing,’ he said as he heard Andrews’ voice on the other end.

  ‘I know you’re being sarcastic, and I don’t want to know what I’ve interrupted, please,’ Peter Andrews said caustically.

  ‘We’re out for a walk,’ West replied. ‘That’s all. I wasn’t sure I’d get a signal this far from the hou
se. It’s not the best, though, so I’ll head back that way.’ He waved to Kelly, and turned to retrace his steps. ‘Have you anything interesting for me?’

  ‘I spoke to Bob Phelan, as you asked. He’s very interested to hear where your lad Finbarr is. They’ve nothing concrete on him, but his name has come up a few times. Now here’s the interesting bit. You know that new designer drug, Zombie Zee? Well, it’s flooding the Galway drug scene. Phelan says the coastguard have stopped a number of boats and confiscated thousands of pounds worth of the stuff. But it’s all small scale. They think someone is getting it in by sea but they don’t know where.’

  ‘They think it might be here? That Finbarr’s involved?’ West asked, wondering if they were right. Using was once thing, and Finbarr definitely looked like he did that. But dealing. That was a different ball-game. Ok, he had history, but he’d been a child. And there had been nothing since. Nothing in ten years. Or had he just got clever, and not been caught.

  ‘When I told them he was living on an island, they did,’ Andrews said.

  West shook his head. ‘Not from Toormore, Peter. There’s no access to the sea from there, it’s on a cliff. He’d have to take the stuff to the main harbour; the coastguards patrol the sea between Clare Island and the mainland. He’d never be that stupid.’

  ‘Stupid enough to be using though, isn’t he?’

  West grunted. ‘I’d bet on it. I just can’t tie his using drugs to Breathnach’s death. I don’t think the man would have cared one way or another.’

  ‘Maybe Breathnach threatened to stop him,’ Andrews suggested.

  ‘We’re clutching at straws here, Peter. I’m getting tired wandering down dead ends.’ He filled him in on the events of the previous day. ‘That was the second; I’m not keen to try another.’

  ‘Seamus is still digging into Breathnach’s past. Nothing much has come up yet. I’ll get him to have a look into Finbarr’s finances. See if there’s any unusual activity.’

  West was about to trot out the official line about invasion of privacy but changed his mind. Seamus was a whizz-kid, he could find out anything. Let’s see if there was anything to find.