by Jo Spain
‘Why did you feel responsible? You looked out for her,’ Darren interjected.
Barney closed his eyes. ‘I tried to look out for all the girls, but I was looking out for Peggy in particular. She was the girl, you see. She was the girl I dragged back when she tried to escape all those years before.’
Laura felt the room closing in on her. Her head started to spin. She could vaguely hear Darren asking her if she was okay. It sounded like he was in a different room, his voice muffled.
‘I need a bathroom,’ she said, leaning forward as the bile rose.
Barney stood up, alarmed.
‘Just over there,’ he said, pointing.
Laura swayed as she stood, and Darren grabbed her elbow to steady her.
She just made it. It took all her willpower to close the door behind her before she emptied the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl.
When the retching subsided, Laura flushed the toilet and propped herself over the sink. Her reflection in the mirror was frightful.
She ran the cold tap and splashed her face before squeezing a sliver of Barney’s toothpaste on to her finger and rubbing it around her teeth. Then she patted her eyes with wet tissue to reduce the puffiness. Finally, Laura took her phone from her pocket and texted Tom.
She felt stupid. She had never met her aunt. Why was this affecting her so much? And she was mortified. Why hadn’t she sent Darren out of the room? She’d only met him, and now he knew her family history and had witnessed her humiliating reaction to it.
She steeled herself to return to the overheated little room where Barney was waiting for her.
The old man was exhausted, sunk in his chair, head in hands.
The young guard made to help her, but she shrugged him off.
‘I’m fine,’ Laura said, facing Barney. She couldn’t sit down. She had to get out of here.
He looked up. ‘I am so sorry, girl. What happened to your aunt has haunted me for a very long time.’
Laura bit her lip. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
‘I can’t say I understand why you brought her back. I became a police officer because I wanted to help people, not deliver them to harm—’
She stopped. Considered the dying man in front her. He had shrivelled from the bombastic, cheerful presence she had first encountered. It took everything she had to utter her next few sentences.
‘I wasn’t around, back then. I don’t know what the world was like. I can see what happened to my aunt has preyed on your mind, and you’ve spent enough time dwelling on it. It wasn’t your fault what happened to Peggy. You did what you could.’
She just about got the words out. Any pang she felt at saying them was alleviated by the look of pure gratitude on the man’s face. Her forgiveness had lifted a great weight from his shoulders.
‘Look, before I go, can you tell me who might have hated Attracta enough to kill her? Is anyone in the village capable of it? Could it have been one of the sisters in the convent? Or Father Seamus?’
Laura robotically asked the necessary questions, conscious of the fact that right now she didn’t give a hoot who had killed the nun.
Barney rubbed his beard. ‘I don’t know what life was like in that convent in recent years, so I can’t speak about the women who lived with her. Father Seamus? Yes. The man is capable of anything. There were . . . incidents. Two or three of the girls in the laundry got pregnant in the seventies. They never saw boys, and the only men ever about the place were the priests. It happened once or twice in the sixties, too, but a priest was moved that time.
‘I made it known I was keeping an eye on Father Seamus, and I think one or two of the nuns cottoned on as well. Nothing else happened after that. But I’ve always had my suspicions – and I wonder if Attracta did, too. Would she be capable of blackmail? Yes, very much. And if she confronted him about it, well, there’s no saying how he’d react. Why she’d do that now, after all this time, I don’t know.’
Laura and Darren exchanged an appalled look.
Barney balled his fists and banged them on the side of the armchair. ‘If Father Seamus killed her, well, she had it coming. But if you ask me, so does he.’
As soon as the anger came, it was gone, and Barney was diminished again.
Laura turned to leave the room.
‘Laura?’ The elderly man’s tone was pitiful.
She looked back at him.
‘If you visit your aunt’s grave, will you ask her to forgive me? I shouldn’t have brought her back. I’ll never forgive myself.’
Laura started to well up. She had to get out of this room. She had never visited her aunt’s grave and probably never would, if it was unmarked.
Darren had the good sense to say nothing as they walked back to the car. When they got in, he turned to her.
‘What you said in there to Barney – at the end – it was very good of you. He’ll die with an easier conscience because of it.’
Laura didn’t respond.
Chapter 36
A pattern was emerging of how Mother Attracta was perceived in the village. Some of the elderly matrons had good things to say about her, but most people found her stand-offish and haughty. None of them struck the inspector as potential killers.
Tom had received a text from Laura twenty minutes previously saying she needed to see him urgently.
When he met her outside the parish hall, he was shocked by her appearance. As pale as a ghost, she looked to have aged in the couple of hours since he’d seen her last.
‘I can’t do this, sir. I have to excuse myself from the investigation,’ she blurted, before he could say anything.
Tom took a deep breath. ‘Why? Is it about your aunt? Something that Barney Kelly told you?’
‘Yes, it’s about my aunt. But it’s also about that woman. After what I just heard, I’ll sum it up like this. I don’t care who killed her. Whoever did it deserves a medal.’ She slumped back against the church wall and brought her hands up to her face. ‘I have to go back to Dublin,’ she mumbled from behind her fingers.
He said nothing for a moment but silently cursed. He needed to get a job done here, not solve the mysteries of Laura’s aunt’s past.
‘All right. I can see you’re very upset. What did Barney Kelly say?’
Laura blew out the breath she’d been holding in and relayed, as calmly as she could, what the retired sergeant had told her about his interactions with the convent and her aunt’s death.
‘There’s more. Something Barney said about Father Seamus. He thinks the priest might have sexually assaulted some of the girls. And he says Attracta would have been more than capable of blackmailing him.’
Laura threw her head back. ‘You see why I can’t stay on this case. That convent – it’s evil.’
‘You don’t have to stay, Laura. I won’t make you.’ Tom was appalled. ‘It’s entirely up to you. I want you to consider one thing, though. Your aunt’s story and the other things we’ve learned paint a picture we cannot ignore. It’s clear the cause of this murder may well lie in the past. Michael and Ciaran are standing outside the priest’s house right now, waiting for us. He gave us a false alibi for Thursday. I know he has something to hide. What Barney Kelly told you could be crucial.’
He gave Laura a minute to process the new information.
She chewed her bottom lip. Then she asked, ‘So he’s our man?’
Tom shrugged. ‘I don’t know. Maybe. Do you want to see this through?’
She stared at the ground. ‘All that stuff I said . . . about not being able to arrest her murderer . . .’
‘Pretty understandable, I’d say. Look, when we discovered Mother Attracta’s body, my notion of what kind of woman she was involved grandkids and bingo. It was human to make those assumptions, but they were wrong. Just because somebody is elderly doesn’t mean they are good, or innocent.
‘Mother Attracta was not a good woman. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t pursue her killer. It’s our job, L
aura, to enforce the rules. See this through. Arresting her murderer won’t make her any less bad, but it will make you a better detective.’
Laura considered her boss’s words. He had made her see sense.
She felt calmer. And grateful. Here they were in the middle of a murder investigation, and he still had time to help her deal with her personal problems.
‘I’d like to stay on, if that’s okay. Thank you, sir. For understanding and for giving me a chance.’
Tom nodded. ‘Right, then, let’s head round to Father Seamus’s house.’
*
They arrived at the priest’s residence just as Ellie was dropping Ray off on her way back to the convent. Willie and Michael were already there.
Tom’s entire team was now assembled, all hoping that this was the break they’d been waiting for.
He sighed. ‘We won’t be storming the building. We can’t pull him in for murder on the basis of a dodgy alibi. We just need to ask some questions.’
‘Boss, I’ve something that changes things,’ Ray said. ‘I got a call from the toll company. Father Seamus’s car was recorded on CCTV going through one of the booths at 10 p.m. on Wednesday and coming back at 7 p.m. on Thursday. He went to Dublin. We have him.’
Nobody breathed for a moment, then Tom spoke.
‘Well, why didn’t you say so? That puts things in a new light. Right, Ciaran, can you get an arrest warrant sorted? At best, he’s obstructed a murder investigation by lying. That alone could be enough to bring him in. But let’s see if he has a plausible explanation.’
‘I’m on it,’ Ciaran said. ‘Under no circumstances are you to bring him down to the station on your own. I want to be the one to handcuff him.’
‘Ray and I will question him in his house for now,’ Tom said. ‘There’s no need for five of us. Michael and Laura, send out an alert to all the garda and petrol stations adjacent to that motorway route to check CCTV in their towns and villages for sightings of his car. If he’s our killer, we might discover where he brought her. Willie, drop the lads down to the convent, will you? We’ll keep you posted.’
The inspector looked over at the priest’s house. He’d had a gut feeling that Father Seamus was going to play more of a role in the investigation.
Could they have cracked the case in such a short period?
He was afraid to hope.
*
Ray pressed his finger against the priest’s doorbell and they waited.
A minute passed. Ray rang again.
Nothing.
They looked at each other.
What was Father Seamus playing at?
Tom knelt down and looked through the letter box. He could see nothing in the hallway, and all the doors were closed.
‘Is he asleep or something?’ Ray wondered aloud.
‘Father Seamus?’ Tom called into the letter box. ‘It’s Inspector Reynolds here. We need to ask you some more questions. Can you come to the door, please?’
There was no movement and no sound.
Tom stood up and looked around. Willie had turned the car round at the church and was driving back towards them, with Michael in the passenger seat.
The inspector walked to the garden gate and waved him down, while Ray pressed the bell again and followed it up with three heavy knocks.
Willie pulled up and rolled the window down.
‘Michael, did Father Seamus say what he was going to do after you left him?’ Tom asked.
‘He said he had work to do.’
‘There’s no way out the back?’
Michael shook his head, frowning.
Willie turned off the engine, and the two men got out of the car.
‘He could be sitting upstairs hoping we’ll go away,’ Willie suggested.
Tom shook his head. ‘The man’s not an idiot. He’s probably been watching us watching him.’
Michael frowned. ‘I was worried he’d do a runner, but what if he’s done something stupid, like top himself?’
‘He’d need a really guilty conscience to do that,’ Tom said. ‘Do you have his phone number?’
Michael punched in the priest’s number. Ray hunched down and placed his ear against the open letter box.
‘No answer.’
‘I heard it ringing,’ Ray called.
‘We’ll give the back a go,’ Tom said.
Willie rang Ciaran and told him what was going on.
‘Ciaran says the cleaner has spare keys,’ he told Tom, resting the phone against his collarbone.
‘Tell him to pick them up. We’ll try the back entrance in the meantime.’
Michael climbed over the gate at the side of the house and unlocked it. He and Tom made their way along the side of the building, pausing to peer in a side window. Tom could see the outline of furniture through the net curtains but could discern no movement.
The side passage led out to a large square lawn. A small fence separated the priest’s garden from that of his neighbour.
When they reached the back door, Michael placed a gloved hand on the knob, preparing to shake it. To his surprise, the door opened.
He looked at Tom, who shrugged.
‘It can be common in the countryside to leave back doors unlocked.’
Michael shook his head. ‘No, he has three locks on his front door. Doesn’t strike me as someone who’d leave the back door open.’
‘That gives us reasonable cause to enter, then.’
Michael stood back and let Tom step into the house before him, directly into a large kitchen.
‘Father Seamus?’ Tom called out. ‘It’s the police. Your back door is open. We’re coming in to make sure you’re all right.’
There was no response.
Tom crossed the kitchen and opened the door cautiously. He looked out and, seeing nothing amiss in the hall, strode to the front door and opened it, turning the three locks.
Ray, Willie and Laura stepped in from the cold.
‘Father, there are a few of us in the hall now. We’re going to check the rooms. If you’re here and you can, please make yourself known to us,’ Tom called out again. He leaned over to Michael. ‘Ciaran didn’t mention anything about the priest being a rabid firearms collector or anything?’ he whispered.
Michael shook his head.
‘Well, take it easy, anyway,’ Tom said. ‘The man might be completely unstable. Laura, Michael, take downstairs. Stay together. Ray, you come up with me. Willie, keep an eye on the front of the house in case he tries to jump out a window.’
Ray followed Tom upstairs.
They found themselves on a U-shaped landing, with a choice of rooms to their left and right, all doors closed.
‘Which way?’ Ray asked.
‘I always veer left. Like my politics,’ Tom replied.
‘Well, if that’s your logic, I believe in the death penalty, so I may as well start on the right.’
The bedroom and study Tom checked were empty. He made his way round the landing until he and Ray met back where they had started, in the middle.
A bathroom lay behind the final door. Ray yanked back the shower curtain dramatically, but found nothing.
The two men stood, puzzled, at the top of the stairs.
‘Where the hell is he?’ Ray asked.
Tom leaned over the banister. ‘Michael, Laura, anything?’
Laura’s face appeared at the bottom of the stairs. ‘Nothing, sir.’
‘Try calling his mobile phone again.’ The inspector looked overhead. ‘There’s an attic . . .’
An open padlock hung from the door above them, the key still in the lock.
‘Brilliant,’ Ray muttered.
‘What’s the matter?’
‘All the horror movies have attic scenes.’
‘You big baby. I’ll go up, then, shall I?’
Ray looked dubious. ‘How are you going to manage that?’
Tom pointed to a string dangling from a long bamboo stick affixed to the side of the attic door.
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‘Behold this magical contraption,’ he said.
He pulled the string, which released the stick. A little hook at one end of the stick fitted into a twin hook on the attic door.
Ray looked at Tom approvingly. ‘I can see how you made inspector.’
‘Stand back,’ Tom said, serious now. He called out again. ‘Father Seamus, This is Inspector Tom Reynolds. I’m about to open the attic door. I’m armed and there are other police officers with me.’
When there was no response, he pulled on the stick.
A set of collapsible stairs descended softly to the landing.
Tom placed his foot on the first step.
Ray grabbed his arm. ‘Maybe I should go up.’
‘Touching,’ Tom said.
The inspector always advised caution – and he showed it himself – but when they were forced to undertake something reckless, he preferred to be the one taking the risk.
He could only hope he wouldn’t be confronted by a madman at the top of these stairs.
He started up the steps and paused.
‘That switch on the wall there, Ray – no, the one in the middle – flick that.’
Ray turned on the switch.
Suddenly the dark opening overhead was filled with bright light.
Four . . . five creaky steps . . . and Tom’s head was through the attic door. He had held his breath all the way up, and he resisted the urge to duck now. As it turned out, he had been worrying about the wrong thing.
Father Seamus was not lurking in the attic. There was something much worse.
‘Ray?’ Tom croaked.
‘What is it?’
Ray charged up the stairs behind him, forcing Tom to climb into the attic proper.
The room had been converted, and Tom was able to comfortably stand upright.
‘Shit!’ Ray exclaimed.
The detective sergeant’s face was a mixture of horror and revulsion.
Almost every inch of every wall was covered in pornographic photographs of women. Young women mostly, in various lewd and graphic poses. Pictures, pulled from the wall in haste, lay scattered around the floor.
A television and DVD player sat on a table across from a small couch. Another table held a desktop computer. Both tables were stacked with DVDs, their indecent covers revealing their content.