You already have, Neil thought wearily but muttered an um-hmmm in agreement. He sat on a stool at the kitchen counter and gratefully took his first sip of beer. “Poor Margaret,” he said, putting down his drink. “She’s a bit daft, but she’s been such a loyal employee all these years. The theft of the tablecloth has really thrown her off whatever little balance she had.” He pondered the events of the day as he watched Felicity, armed with a giant fork, poke at the potatoes in the oven. She’d never been a great cook.
“These need another another ten, maybe fifteen minutes,” Felicity mumbled.
“I can’t imagine who would have been driving Margaret around today,” Neil remarked. “I always had the impression she was a loner.”
Felicity shut the oven door and shook her head. “I am so mad at myself! I should have offered to walk her to the car.”
“Ah, well,” Neil said. “I hope she’s planning on coming to work in the morning. We have a group of Americans coming in.” He paused. “No matter what, I’m going to make sure everything runs smoothly tomorrow at Hennessy Castle.”
Neil should have learned from his mother that it was bad luck to “tempt the fates.”
34
When Mother Sharkey and her son closed up shop, they went upstairs where Seamus was making preparations for their evening meal.
Tonight they were having spaghetti, a family favorite.
“I put the water on to boil,” Seamus said proudly, “and I set the table. How were things down at the smile center this afternoon?”
“Busy, Daddy,” Dr. Sharkey answered. “Two emergencies.”
“I can’t wait to hear all about them.”
“You will. First, I want to get out of these clothes and put on a pair of sweats.” He disappeared down the hall, whistling a happy tune.
“Danny’s such a good boy,” Seamus commented to his wife, Kathleen.
“I’m worried about what’s going to happen to him when we’re gone,” Kathleen responded. “He’s going to miss us so much. If only we could find him a nice girl.”
Seamus nodded. “It was such a shame he drilled the teeth of that lovely lass he was going around with a few years ago. Things were never the same after that. I thought they were truly in love.”
Kathleen pointed her finger at her husband. “The saying goes, ‘You shouldn’t mix business with pleasure,’ but it was on a Sunday, remember? She had a terrible toothache and asked him for help. It wasn’t Danny’s fault she ended up with an infection and had to have the tooth pulled. Now let’s get this food on the table.”
Seamus sighed. “Maybe we should have been more encouraging when he wanted to go into show business.”
Kathleen waved her hand disgustedly. “And I should have made a living doing the Irish jig.”
Seamus knew the discussion was over.
During dinner Seamus asked his son about the emergencies he had handled that afternoon.
“The first,” Danny said as he twirled spaghetti onto his fork, “was an American whose cap fell out when he bit into a blueberry pancake that contained a pebble.”
“Ouch!” the older Sharkey cried. “I get a pain just thinking about it. Did he have brown hair? And was he with a brown-haired woman?”
“Yes.”
“I knew it!”
“Really?”
“Yes. He seemed upset when he got into his car.”
“He was laughing when he was in my chair, I can tell you that. The strangest laugh. His wife hurried into the treatment room to see what was going on. She told me he couldn’t have any more nitrous oxide.”
Mother Sharkey looked up from her spaghetti. “That was when I was upstairs. If I’d been there, I never would have allowed her to interrupt you.”
“Thank you, Mother, but it was necessary. She said he had a heart problem.”
Kathleen shrugged. “The woman didn’t want to fill out the forms. You would have known about his heart problem if she had.”
“Fill out the forms?” Danny said with a laugh. “I didn’t even get their names.”
“You didn’t?” Seamus asked, astonishment in his voice. “I’m up here taking notes and writing down license plate numbers in case any of these people turn out to be dishonest, and you didn’t even get their names?”
“It’s all right, Daddy. They’re not coming back. He’s going home to his dentist in New York—or Los Angeles. Who knows?”
“What do you mean, son?”
“First he said his dentist was in Los Angeles, then he said New York. It really doesn’t matter.” Danny opened his mouth and loaded it with spaghetti. “Does it?”
They all ate in silence for several minutes, savoring the delicious spaghetti sauce. It was Seamus’s specialty. The bread was crunchy and hot, and the salad tasty.
Finally, Seamus wiped his mouth with his napkin. “You didn’t tell me about the other emergency yet.”
Danny rolled his eyes. “A woman who works at Hennessy Castle. She fell in the street and knocked out her front tooth. Oh! She’s the woman who designed the decal for the Fun Run. Rory at the gym recommended her to me.”
“She designed that funny decal?”
“Yes.”
“What does she do at Hennessy Castle?”
“She’s a housekeeper.”
“Based on that decal, I’d say she’s a very talented artist. She should pursue her art.” Seamus helped himself to another piece of bread. “You know what happened at Hennessy Castle last night, don’t you?”
“No,” Danny answered.
“I do,” Kathleen said. “I saw it on TV today.”
“What happened?” Danny asked. “I was so busy every minute, I didn’t hear a bit of news.”
Seamus explained in great detail. “…And this Jack Reilly’s wife’s cousin is Gerard Reilly, whose radio show I tune into when I can’t sleep. Last week I heard him say that his cousin, Regan Reilly, and her husband, Jack, were coming to Ireland for their honeymoon. Jack Reilly is head of the Major Case Squad in New York. I can’t wait to hear Gerard’s show tonight. I heard a promo for it before. Gerard’s going to have Regan and Jack Reilly on as his guests, as well as that lucky so-and-so who discovered the Claddagh rings in his basement.”
“He was a lucky so-and-so,” Danny agreed.
“Keep the radio low. I need my rest,” Kathleen instructed her husband.
“Of course, dear. I just hope I don’t fall asleep before Gerard Reilly’s show comes on. By ten o’clock I’m usually tuckered out.”
“Stay up with me in the living room, and we’ll listen together, Daddy.”
The older man smiled at his offspring and fondly patted his hand. “I’ll make popcorn. Maybe we can call in with questions.” He laughed. “It’ll be fun. I just hope I don’t fall asleep.”
Seamus Sharkey wouldn’t have slept for days if he had known that not one but two sets of criminals had been under his roof, and he had written them up in his little black book.
35
Sheila and Brian drove back down to Galway, this time in their rental car. They listened to the radio and learned about the note the Does had left for Jack Reilly at Hennessy Castle.
“Oh, God,” Sheila said. “Now you know they’ll be sticking around. I can’t figure out what they were doing at the Get in Shape gym today. It’s so odd.”
“Let’s not worry about it,” Brian suggested. “We’ll just stick with our plan.”
In Galway the O’Sheas bought a black wig, black cape, long black skirt, and old-fashioned white bonnet. They also purchased a black eye pencil to darken Sheila’s blond eyebrows, and pure white foundation to make her look as if she’d just risen from the grave. By the time they finished running from one store to another, it was nearly eight o’clock. They carefully loaded all their purchases into the trunk, alongside Margaret’s painting, and slammed the trunk shut.
“I feel better already,” Brian declared. “We’re moving forward.”
“I’m glad you feel better,”
Sheila said, “because I certainly don’t. The woman at the wig shop made me very nervous. She asked me three times why I was buying a dark wig. You could tell she thought it looked terrible on me.”
“It’s supposed to look terrible. You’re a ghost,” Brian said practically. “Listen, the saleswoman probably felt guilty she was selling you something that wasn’t the least bit flattering. But, believe me, she was happy to make the sale. Now,” he said, looking around the busy street in the heart of Galway, “let’s grab a bite to eat.”
They found a pub that looked inviting and were seated at a corner banquette. “You picked a good night,” the waitress told them. “A couple of our young musicians will start playing in a few minutes. They’re really talented. They’ll be playing the tin whistle, the flute, the accordion…”
“Sounds great, but we can’t stay too long,” Brian informed her.
“Shame,” she said. “What can I get you?”
They ordered pints of Guinness and chicken pot pie. When the waitress walked off, Sheila whispered to Brian, “What time are we going to Margaret’s house tonight?”
“Somewhere around midnight.”
“Then why can’t we stay here too long?”
“I figured we’d go back to the castle and relax. I wouldn’t mind taking a shower. I feel a little grubby.”
Sheila rolled her eyes. “Don’t you think it’s a little suspicious if we go back to the castle and then leave again so late? There’s not a lot going on in that neck of the woods at midnight.”
Brian touched Sheila’s nose with his index finger. “You’re right, short stuff. That’s why we make a good team. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Short stuff” is what Brian had called Sheila when they were kids. The childhood nickname still bugged her, but at the moment she chose to ignore it. “It’s going to look odd anyway when we show up there at one or two in the morning,” she said. “After scaring Margaret Raftery to death,” she added.
“Listen, they’ll be thrilled to see us, whatever time we get back there. Everyone else was checking out.”
“Everyone except Regan and Jack Reilly, I bet. Having them around makes me jumpy,” Sheila said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Brian said. “They’re not concerned with us. They’re busy looking for two international jewel thieves who stole May Reilly’s tablecloth.” He laughed. “I’d love to meet those two thieves. They must have some sense of humor to steal a tablecloth.”
“Hello!”
Brian and Sheila jerked their heads at the sound of a familiar voice. Regan Reilly was approaching their table! Jack was walking with an older couple toward the back of the pub.
“Hello,” Sheila and Brian both managed to say, concealing their sudden angst.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Regan said, looking from one to the other.
Sheila managed a laugh. “We didn’t think there’d be much food at Hennessy Castle tonight with everything that’s happened up there—”
“Oh, I know,” Regan said. “You didn’t check out either?”
“No, we didn’t,” Sheila croaked.
“Quick question. Jack and I are investigating the theft of May Reilly’s tablecloth. We saw your names on the list of people who ran in the Fun Run last November, here in Galway.”
“Great race,” Brian interjected.
“Do you remember anything unusual about that day? The couple we’re looking for may have run that race.”
“No,” they answered.
“We just ran the race and went right back to the hotel. It was freezing,” Brian explained.
“Well, have a good dinner. I’m sure we’ll see you back at the castle. If you think of anything, let me know.”
“We will,” Sheila said feebly as Regan hurried to join her group.
“This is a first,” Brian said. “But I think I just lost my appetite.” He was silent for a moment. “You don’t think she overheard us, do you?” he asked.
36
“I can’t wait to hear Gerard Reilly’s show,” Anna said anxiously, turning their high-tech stereo to the radio setting.
Bobby barely responded. He was sprawled on the couch where he had parked himself right after they arrived home. Anna had waited on him hand and foot ever since, serving him the chicken soup, cups of tea, crackers, water, cookies, another cup of soup, more crackers. He was milking his dental debacle for everything it was worth. “I’m cold,” he whined.
With a glint in her eye, Anna walked over to the chair near the couch, grabbed May Reilly’s priceless tablecloth—which was large enough to cover an extremely long banquet-sized table—and playfully covered him with it.
Like a cranky child, Bobby threw it on the floor. “It’s too heavy.”
Anna had about as much as she could take. “How about another blueberry pancake before I sit down?” she snapped.
Bobby knew immediately that he had pushed things too far. “I’m sorry,” he said contritely, reaching up his arms. “Let’s cuddle while we listen to that blabbermouth’s show.”
Anna took a moment to pout.
“Come on,” Bobby pleaded, waving his arms. “Pretty please?”
“Well, all right,” she said in a sulking tone. “I’ll turn out the lights first so there are no distractions. I want to concentrate on every word Jack Reilly says and every nuance in his voice. He was down in this area for a reason, and I’d love to know what it is—not that he’s going to reveal anything.” Anna had been a wreck since the Jack Reilly sighting outside the general store. It hadn’t bothered Bobby much. But, then again, he had slept through the whole thing.
“There he was…in the flesh!” Anna had yelped when she jumped into the car and sped off. “I almost had a conniption.”
Anna had flicked on the car radio to hear if there were any updates on the investigation. There were none, but they heard the promo touting Regan and Jack’s appearance on Gerard Reilly’s show, as well as the man who discovered the Claddagh rings in his basement. In the several hours they were home, it was all Anna could think about. While Bobby fussed and moaned, she watched the clock, waiting for Gerard’s show to begin. She hadn’t looked forward to a program so much since she was a child counting the hours until the annual showing of The Wizard of Oz on television. Finally, there were only five minutes before Gerard’s program would start.
“Anna,” Bobby said, sounding as sweet as pie, “I just have one more teeny, tiny request before you join me.”
“What?” she asked flatly.
“Would you mind getting us a blanket?”
Anna nodded. She picked up May Reilly’s tablecloth off the floor, tossed it back on the chair, and hurried toward the bedroom. A moment later she was back with a down comforter. She covered Bobby, who this time was most grateful, turned off the lights, and finally lay down next to him. There they were, in a darkened little cottage on a bleak night in the west of Ireland, spooned together on the couch.
“This is like the olden days,” Anna said, “before television was invented. People would gather together around a radio and listen to dramas.”
“Do you think I’m stupid?” Bobby asked. “I know all about radio shows. My mother said she had a crush on the Lone Ranger.”
The opening music for Gerard’s show began to play. It was a jaunty tune about six seconds long. Next, Gerard introduced himself and, as was his custom, began with a joke.
“What’s the definition of an Irish gentleman?” Gerard’s voice boomed through the speakers. “A man who knows how to play the bagpipes—but doesn’t!”
“I like bagpipes,” Anna remarked, “except when they get too loud.”
“I can’t stand them,” Bobby declared.
“Good evening ladies, gentlemen, and bagpipe players,” Gerard said with a chuckle. “Tonight we have the most interesting guests. One of them I just happen to be related to….”
Anna and Bobby listened with rapt attention as Jack and Regan Reilly related the history of Jane and John
Doe, the crime at Hennessy Castle, and the story of May Reilly and her tablecloth.
“Here you are on your honeymoon with my lovely cousin, Regan,” Gerard said to Jack, “and these two scallywags are causing trouble for ya.”
“They have a personal vendetta against me, that’s for sure,” Jack answered.
“You can be sure May Reilly will have a personal vendetta against them!” Gerard said. “Legend has it she haunts Hennessy Castle because she was never paid for that tablecloth. Now that it’s gone, she’ll be even more perturbed. Jane and John Doe had better watch out.”
“I’ll rip it up and use it as cleaning rags,” Anna said spitefully. “Then I’ll tell May Reilly to come and get me. I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“What can our listeners do to help?” Gerard asked. “We don’t know if Jane and John Doe are still in Ireland, but let’s suppose they are. Is there anything in particular our listeners should be on the lookout for?”
“Unfortunately, they are average-looking people who are very good at disguising themselves,” Jack answered.
Anna sighed.
“I think you’re beautiful,” Bobby whispered in her ear.
“Sssshhhhhhh.”
“So there’s no scar, no tattoo, nothing to distinguish them physically?” Gerard asked.
“Now there is,” Bobby grumbled. “This friggin tooth.”
“Not physically, but as I mentioned to you before the show, we—” Jack said.
Anna grabbed Bobby’s arm.
“—have reason to believe that the man has a very peculiar laugh.”
“What?” Bobby shouted.
“I told you!” Anna said with disgust. “All the work I do on our disguises, and you’re going to blow our cover with that stupid laugh of yours.”
“It’s genetic. It’s the way my father laughed.”
“Shhhhhh. Let’s listen!”
“Yes, you did tell me about the laugh, Jack. And, listeners, we have a young lady on the phone who does an imitation of this strange laugh. She had contact with a couple who Jack Reilly has reason to believe might be Jane and John Doe. For her protection we won’t reveal her name. Are you there, honey?”
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