One Coffin Too Many

by Brendan O'Grady

  “ So you reckon she had Horgan killed? “

  Devoy shook his head.

  “ She didn’t need to. She had him where she wanted him – behind bars on a murder charge. We were doing her work for her. “

  “ But Horgan could easily have implicated her. “

  “ How? “ asked Devoy. “ It would have been his word against hers. His only reason for being there was as he said to visit Fallon but his prints were all over the place. Flood on the other hand had every reason to be there. It was her place of work. And don’t forget he was on the videotape which she conveniently furnished us with. Horgan was trapped. All the evidence was pointing to him as the murderer. On the face of it who would a jury convict: Horgan, a slippery type of character with a penchant for a fast deal or Nursing Sister Flood? My money would be on Horgan. “

  “ Yeah, “ replied Sullivan. “ I can see where this is leading. So Horgan committed suicide? “

  “ My guess is he did. Don’t forget he probably felt trapped and in a way he was. He was blackmailing Flood, Gleeson and a lot of other women. He had them by the proverbial short and curlies, so to speak. The quid pro quo was for him to hand over the material or else face a murder charge. Flood could easily have got him off the hook by saying that Fallon’s death was an accident but she waiting for him to make a gesture. When it didn’t materialize Caroline Gleeson torched his house as a warning and also hopefully to burn any compromising material and when that didn’t produce the required result she sent him some ash as a reminder. My guess is that Horgan felt cornered, between a rock and a hard place. He despaired and did himself in. “

  “ It seems to add up but will it stand up in court? Have you any definite proof? Something to show to the people in Justice? “

  “ We have Horgan’s receptionist to thank for that. She inadvertently put us in the picture by referring to something that her boss had said before she went on holidays. “

  “ Explain. “

  Devoy nodded to Burke as if he were tired trying to present his case to Sullivan.

  “ Sir, “ began Burke.

  Sullivan nodded quickly anxious to get to the end of the story.

  “ Horgan asked his receptionist at the estate agency to take an early holiday as he said he wanted to rearrange things. She wasn’t too pleased with having her holidays disrupted but he offered to pay for the holiday. When she got back he was dead. During the course of a conversation with us she said that Horgan had told her that when she got back everything would be up in the air. She thought this odd as it contradicted what her boss had told her what he wanted to do in her absence. But Andy here picked up on it. Horgan had put all his confidential files on the cloud. “

  “ The cloud? What the devil are you talking about? “

  Devoy asked Officer Burke to explain.

  When he finished Sullivan shook his head in wonder.

  “ So Horgan put all his confidential files on this cloud thing. “

  “ That’s right, “ broke in Devoy, “ and all his plans for the future. Plan number one was to get his hands on Fallon’s land by hook or by crook and redevelop it for luxurious chalets. “

  “ But Horgan had already lots of land and chalets. Why would he need more? “

  “ By a strange twist Horgan stumbled on the fact that people once again were interested in buying chalets but this time for the weekends and not just the type of chalets from the sixties and seventies. What they were looking for was luxurious models with fitted kitchens, Italian showers, jacuzzies, the works. He reckoned he could get the land and chalets off Fallon for next to nothing seeing as they were dilapidated. Modernize them and sell them off at exorbitant prices to those wanting a weekend retreat. He had it all worked out. Or at least he thought he did. “

  “ The best laid schemes of mice and men… “ replied Sullivan, quoting Robbie Burns.

  “ Indeed, “ said Devoy. “ That’s how we trap criminals. “

  Sullivan grimaced. Devoy knew he still harbored some doubts.

  “ I know it mostly supposition on my part but it does add up when you add the facts about the land etc. Besides, who’s going to contradict us? All of the actors are dead. “

  Sullivan nodded.

  “ Just looking for some holes, Frank. Some holes. You know what lawyers are like? “

  “ Who are you telling? “

  “ But you mentioned Kennedy’s secrets. Where does he come into this? “

  “ I don’t think he had anything to do with Fallon’s death. We caught Flood by going through his telephone. However we only focused on his incoming calls. Since his death we’ve been examining his outgoing ones. “

  “ And? “

  “ And we need search warrants to examine the bank accounts of these people. “

  Devoy handed Sullivan a sheet of paper.

  “ I thought as much. More bloody paperwork. “

  Sullivan peered at the names.

  “ Robert Kennedy and his wife Sandra Kennedy. Mrs. Margo Walsh and, I don’t know this man. “

  “ We’ve overlooked him, sir and from the very beginning but I think when we nail him our investigation will be at an end. In fact I think I can guarantee it. “

  “ Very well, Frank. I’ll prepare the warrants right away. Give me an hour or so. Okay? “

  Devoy and Burke stood up to leave.

  “ Oh, Frank, “ said Sullivan.

  “ Yes, Superintendent? “

  “ When I sign out these warrants I’m going fishing. Do you understand? “

  Devoy grinned.

  “ Good. “

  Devoy turned to open the door. He paused.

  “ Oh, that other matter. Any word? “

  Sullivan shook his head.

  “ No news is good news, Frank. “

  ✽✽✽

  CHAPTER 42

  The Assistant Bank Manager examined the search warrants that Devoy handed him.

  “ I seem to remember something about this, Detective Inspector. Something very recent. Ah, yes, here it is. “ He tapped a few more keys on his computer. “ Yes, I thought the name struck a bell. A fine looking woman if I may say so. Hard to forget. “

  Devoy felt like agreeing with him but held his tongue.

  He turned the computer screen to face Devoy and Burke.

  Both men leaned forward and peered at the screen.

  “ As you can see, gentlemen, zilch. The account has been closed for a few days. Not a bean left. “

  “ Any indication where it went to? “ asked Devoy.

  The banker shook his head.

  “ No transfers were asked for. Mrs. Walsh just closed the account, paid off any outstanding arrears and left it at that. “

  “ I see. “

  “ There is one thing though. “

  “ Oh, and what’s that? “

  “ There’s a footnote here. She paid for the upkeep of a safety deposit box until the end of the month. Only to be opened by Detective Inspector Frank Devoy. That’s you, I believe. “

  Devoy nodded perplexed.

  The banker took a key out of a drawer and motioned for both men to follow him. Halfway down the corridor he stopped. He turned to face Devoy and Burke.

  “ Ah, I forgot one thing. Rules, gentlemen. “

  “ Rules? “ echoed both men.

  “ Yes, rules. I’m sorry. I forgot to ask you both for ID. “

  Both men showed their ID.

  “ Sorry about that. My boss is a stickler for rules and I’d hate to be transferred again. “

  They descended the stairs into the basement where once again the banker produced another set of keys.

  “ Here we are, “ he said, inserting the key into the lock of a heavy-duty door which moaned in protest as he pushed it open.

  He flicked on a switch and the room was illuminated by bright fluorescent tubes which hummed as if glad to be working again. The deposit safety boxes took up one whole side of the room while the other was given over to stalls where b
ox holders could inspect the contents in privacy.

  A small metal table and two chairs stood in the middle of the room.

  The banker turned to Devoy.

  “ Now, Detective Inspector Devoy. I have to inform you that the usual drill is for a member of the staff – usually me, to insert one key and then to step back and let the customer insert his or hers. Once that is done and both keys have done their job the bank official opens the box and deposits it on this table. He then departs allowing the renter to open it at his pleasure. However, as Mrs. Walsh is no longer with us a special procedure has been put in place for security reasons as you’ll appreciate. I have both keys. So I’m going to insert them one after the other and take out the box for you as per Mrs. Walsh’s instructions. Shall I go ahead then? “

  Devoy who was grinding his teeth in desperation at the tedium nodded.

  The bank official went ahead and a few moments later deposited the box in front of Devoy and Burke.

  The banker nodded and Devoy stepped forwarded and opened the box. There was nothing but an envelope inside. Devoy picked it up but before he had a chance to open it the man stepped forward and brought the seal covering the flap of the envelope to Devoy’s attention. Devoy acknowledged it but the banker wasn’t finished.

  “ Note the two signatures across the flap. One by me and the other by my boss. “

  Devoy grimaced.

  “ Can I open it now? “

  “ Go ahead, “ said the banker.

  Devoy ripped back the flap and peered inside. There was a length of cardboard with something metallic attached to it. Devoy shook it out. There were two car keys sellotaped to the cardboard. On the other side was a pink envelope. Devoy’s noise wrinkled as he detected Margo’s perfume sending a surge of sexual longing through his body. He opened the envelope. He recognized her writing. It began.

  Hello Frank,

  I’m writing this letter to you with regret. I had hoped for a better ending – however temporary but that’s up to you. Had I stayed I would have compromised you career-wise. I know in my heart that you won’t do anything against me. I have something that partly belongs to you –you’ll see. So it’s only fair that I leave something for you in memory of me.

  Love Margo.

  “ So what was that all about? “ asked Burke.

  “ I’ve just become the owner of a second car, would you believe. An up-market JEEP. “

  There was a polite cough from the banker.

  “ I take it you’re satisfied with what you found, Detective Inspector? “

  Devoy nodded but it wasn’t what he had been expecting.

  “ Good, “ replied the banker. “ Transaction’s over now. Please be good enough to sign this form. “

  Devoy signed the form and he and Burke made their way out of the subterranean room. Devoy had the impression he’d just been to a funeral.

  “ You’ve a few other matters to attend to, Inspector? “

  Devoy looked at his watch. It was almost noon.

  “ That’s right. But unlike Mrs. Walsh they’re quite involved. “

  The banker nodded.

  “ On first impressions you could say that, Inspector but I have the distinct impression there’s something else on your mind – perhaps because it’s lunch time. “

  Devoy smiled at how well the banker read his mind.

  “ I could have everything up and ready to go at half-past one in an out of the way office if that appeals to you. Coffee could be provided and nobody would bother you. “

  “ I’d like that very much, Mister….”

  “ It’s Clancy. Sorry, I should have identified myself earlier. “

  “ Okay, Mr. Clancy, half-past one it is. “

  “ Fine, “ replied Clancy.

  “ Oh, one more thing, Mr. Clancy. “

  Clancy turned back.

  “ Seeing as it’s Friday. If any of those people on the search warrants turn up and want to take out some money, let them do so. But under no circumstances are they to close their accounts or transfer money anywhere. Do you understand? “

  Clancy nodded.

  “ I do, I do indeed. But I’ll probably need further authorization to block anything. “

  “ In that case, Mr. Clancy see to it. But understand one thing: I don’t want any surprises when we come back and I’d hate to see you transferred again. “

  Clancy nodded vigorously.

  “ Don’t worry, sir. I read you well. “

  “ Good, then enjoy your lunch, Mr. Clancy. “

  Later in a pub Devoy sipped his ale thoughtfully.

  “ You look miles away, Inspector. What’s up? “

  “ I’ve been had. I’ve been led up the garden path since the very beginning. “

  “ Was it something in the deposit safety box – the envelope? “

  Devoy shook his head.

  “ No, nothing to do with that at all. Let’s have a good few pints and something to eat. Everything will be revealed this afternoon. Especially the red herring. “

  ✽✽✽

  CHAPTER 43

  Saturday

  “ Locking up for the day, Kevin? “

  Kevin Wade turned the key in the lock of the cemetery gates and spun around. Detective Inspector Frank Devoy was leaning against his car dangling a pair of handcuffs. Another man stood at the other end of the car with his arms folded. Wade had never seen him before.

  “ Yes, Inspector Devoy. That was the last funeral for today. “

  Devoy shook his head as if Wade had told him a lie.

  “ I’m afraid not, Kevin. You forgot your own funeral. “

  “ My own funeral? What are you on about? “

  “ You know damn well, Kevin. I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Henry Cremin. You should have stuck to seafaring, Kevin. “

  “ But….”

  “ Save the pantomime for later, Kevin. The game’s over. “

  Devoy turned to Officer Burke and threw the handcuffs at him.

  “ Read him his rights, Andy and lock him up. “

  Helen Roche slipped out of the king-size bed and stared for a while at the sleeping figure of Beatrice Marshall. It had been an interesting day and night and they had made the most of it given the absence of everybody else from the household. It was one she was likely never to forget as she picked up one of the champagne flutes and drained what was left from the glass. She then collected all the empty bottles and glasses and gingerly put them into an empty pillow case for further use. She dressed herself quickly realizing she had little time for a shower and headed down the stairs to the hallway. There she locked the heavy front door and made sure none of the ground floor windows were open. She went systematically through each ground floor room searching every cabinet, sideboard and drawer until she was satisfied that what she was looking for wasn’t in the mansion. She didn’t bother to be careful and put things back – she just dumped everything on the floor as she knew it would be of no consequence for what she had in mind. Next she proceeded out into the rear of the mansion until she came to the sunken garden that enclosed the swimming pool. There she placed the bottles and glasses on the poolside table careful to wipe away any trace of her prints. Then she crossed the garden to the gardener’s shed and selected an axe from the tools hanging on

  the wall. She retraced her steps until she came to the barn. She opened the double doors and penetrated into the darkness until she found the switch that she’d seen Beatrice activate the night before. There in the basement Beatrice had enthralled her with her collection of porn, of local, well-known women cavorting about naked engaged in lesbian sexual activity. There were hundreds of videotapes, CDs and DVDs. In fact a whole library going back years. There was enough material there to blackmail enough citizens to cause a scandal and much worse. Helen, although fascinated at the spectacle, felt revulsion as a cop. She let Beatrice indulge herself and after that it was Champagne, buckets of it and then bed. Time was pressing.

  Helen
took the axe and sent it crashing into every cabinet and when all the tapes, CDs and DVDs were lying on the floor she stacked them in a heap in the centre of the barn-like room. She chucked the axe to one side and ascended the stairs to the outside. Here she left the doors open.

  Next she went back into the mansion and mounted the stairs to Beatrice’s bedroom. Beatrice was still out cold. Helen pulled her out of the bed and hefted her over her shoulder. When she got to the bottom of the stairs she placed Beatrice on the last steps until she located the dead Mrs. Marshall’s wheelchair. She placed Beatrice in it and wheeled her out of the house and across the garden. There she sat her in a deck chair. Beatrice mumbled from time to time and her head flopped to one side. Satisfied with the scene, Helen extracted from her pocket a small plastic bag of white powder. She spread some of it on the table and the rest of she pushed up into Beatrice’s nostrils. The rest she let tumble down her front.

  One more task awaited her. Quickly now she went over to the garage which stood on the other side of the barn-like building and opened the door. Beatrice’s car stood there but Helen had no use for it. Instead she went over to the petrol tank and filled a two bottles with petrol. She then made her way back to the basement and poured the contents of one bottle onto the pile of videotapes, CDs and DVDs. She backed herself out of the basement careful not to stumble on the steps. She carefully placed the other bottle out of harm’s way and threw a lighted match into the basement. Nothing happened for a moment and then there was a whump as the petrol ignited. Helen watched it for a while as it caught the pile and then that went up with another whump. She felt the draft of hot air as the fire sucked on the outside air. She then picked up the second bottle and went back into the mansion. Up the stairs she went until she came to Beatrice’s room. She shook the contents of the second bottle onto the bed and carpet and all along the corridor leading to the stairs. She jettisoned the second bottle and threw another match at the trail of petrol. A blue flame snaked along the floor and disappeared into Beatrice’s room. Here there was another whump as the saturated bed and floor burst into flames. Now her task was done. Helen went down the stairs and into the kitchen. She here ran the hot tap and after dousing her hands with washing up liquid washed herself of any trace of petrol. Then she walked out the back door and down the lane. She didn’t bother to look back. She knew what she’d see. She found the bike still concealed in the high grass, mounted it and cycled off. Ten minutes later she came to her car. She dumped the bicycle and drove off. It was now coming up to one o’clock in the afternoon. She waited another fifteen minutes and then phoned the fire brigade from an isolated payphone. She reached her hotel ten minutes later, had a shower and fell into a deep sleep.