by Brothers
‘Nothing happened,’ she insisted but he didn’t believe her. They sat in silence for a time.
‘You know McCarthy wants to go for that arrest today, that’s why he called me back.’ He looked towards the second-floor window where the inspector’s office was tucked.
Louise didn’t follow his eyes, she didn’t need to, she listened as he explained. She reached back and placed the bag she had just filled on the back seat.
‘Tim has motive, no alibi that we can verify, and even a financial gain in the long run, everything adds up to manslaughter, we’ll go for a straight-up arrest,’ Kelly said. He had deliberated on it long enough. Louise couldn’t look at him. ‘But we need to execute today, so McCarthy says, anyhow.’
Louise remained silent. Something didn’t feel right and for the first time in her professional career, her head was overruled by her heart. She filled her cheeks with air and exhaled slowly. She shifted slightly, pointing her knees towards him and sighed, one of her many faults was her compulsion to cut the bullshit and call each and every situation as she saw it, no matter how uncomfortable it might have been and today, she felt, was one of those days. ‘I can’t do it, Kelly.’ She drew in a deep breath, paused and continued. ‘And I don’t want you to do it either.’ They both glanced at the white painted masonry building across the car park.
‘You want me to not arrest a suspect because, why, you don’t think he did it? Louise knew that his question was rhetorical and didn’t answer him.’
‘Well, if you had a heart, Kelly…’ It came out an awful lot harsher than she had intended it to.
It had only been two days since she was lying naked in his arms, he couldn’t believe that they had drifted so far apart, he had even planned to tell Annie about Louise the next time he saw her. ‘If I had a heart.’ The hurt from her remark cut deep.
‘Look, I didn’t mean it like that.’ She placed her hand on his thigh and squeezed. ‘Just stall the Inspector for a day.’ She wanted to say ‘or two’ but didn’t push it, she knew he was at his limit. She needed him to see her side of Timothy Fitzpatrick’s story first.
‘Are you hearing yourself, are you for real?’ Kelly ran his hand over the stubble on his face. He couldn’t believe what she was saying. He unclasped his hand from his jaw and placed his head in both his hands. ‘Since when do you make a call like that, Louise, seriously? I just don’t get you, Louise, fuck’s sake,’ Kelly said.
‘Well, neither do I,’ she said. She could hardly expect him to understand if she didn’t understand herself. Rose’s statement, how she had described what had happened to her when she was only fourteen had impacted her in a way that she couldn’t understand. It wasn’t as though she hadn’t been exposed to harrowing stories before but the way that Rose spoke about her brother Tim, how he had saved her from the horrific events that they had endured, had made her pause. Did she think Tim had motive to kill the uncle? Yes. Did she think that arresting him for it was the right thing to do? No. And that was why she had asked Kelly for more time. ‘Kelly,’ the resignation in her voice made him lock his eyes to hers, ‘I can’t explain this one, I know I have no right but,’ she knew she was taking a risk asking him to compromise himself professionally but she felt compelled to, ‘could you just stall, tell the Inspector that we are ruling out another line of enquiry before we make the arrest.’ She held her breath waiting for him to answer. ‘Let’s just grab a bite to eat, talk over the case, just once more, I want to be sure, we haven’t missed anything. Can we just hold off for an hour even?
‘Okay,’ Kelly said.
She looked away not trusting the stinging feeling that was creeping in to her eyes and exhaled a sigh of relief.
Chapter 27
Saturday Morning– 2016
Standing opposite Michael, across the grave, with Tim holding her upright, Rose studied her secret son from behind her sunglasses. He looked like the man she had imagined him to be, handsome and happy, and even though she felt she had no right to, she felt proud, proud that she and her son were both strong enough to have endured their ordeal. It amazed her that something so precious was born out of something so horrific.
She pictured Matt’s face, her wonderful husband, whose kind eyes, strong hands and powerful words had told her this day would come. The day, when finally, her eyes would meet her secret son’s and she would know, with all her heart, that everything, absolutely everything she did for Michael, had been the right thing to do and she did because she loved him. She wished that Matt was with her, she wished that she could tell him how right he had been. His patience with her regrets and reverence with her sorrow had allowed her to grieve, to mourn the son that she had never known. He had told her that she was to be proud of it, proud of what she had done for him. She wanted to share it with him, her soulmate, the love of her life, she wanted Matt to be here and look on Michael with her and share in her pride. She looked to the sky and hoped that he could hear her thoughts.
‘Rosie,’ Tim tugged at her arm again. ‘You okay?’ he whispered.
‘Yes, fine.’ She gave him a reassuring smile.
‘You were a million miles away. Michael is on his way back over.’
‘Okay, thanks.’ Rose stiffened her grip on Tim’s arm.
‘It was a really lovely service’, Michael said, reaching Tim’s eyes first.
‘Thank you so much for coming,’ Tim said as he shook his hand.
‘God, it was the least we could do,’ Michael answered, ‘It’s terrible the whole thing,’ he said.
Rose looked at him with tears welling in her eyes.
‘You must be driven mad with the media presence at the gates to the farm,’ Tim said. ‘I’ve caught a few snippets of it on the news.’
‘Actually, it’s died down a fair bit, to be honest. I expected more of a turnout this morning,’ Michael added. He had been pleasantly surprised to drive away from his front gates and find the media had moved on, ‘In turnout I mean with the media, not the funeral,’ he added awkwardly, conscious that it might have sounded like a criticism. ‘Actually,’ he continued, drawing his wife into the conversation, ‘Marie here, wondered,’ he nodded his head in his wife’s direction, ‘well, we both did,’ he conceded, he knew his wife’s intentions were good, ‘if you’d like to come back to the house, you know for old time’s sake?’
He looked almost childlike, Rose thought, vulnerable even. She dabbed her tears behind her glasses relying on Tim to speak for her. She studied the lines on his skin and the warm hazel colour of his eyes. He was tall, the same as Tim, but Michael was much more muscular, built to work the land. His black suit hung stylishly on his broad frame as though it was tailored for him and the shine on his leather shoes reflected the bright midday sun.
‘We couldn’t impose, like that,’ Tim answered.
‘Nonsense,’ Marie offered. ‘Would you like to, Rose?’
Rose caught Tim’s eye and let him know that she was okay. It was more than that though, she wanted the opportunity to be with him and if it meant going back to Fitzpatrick house, well that was what she was prepared to do.
‘It’s just that, I’ve promised Eve and Jack that we might have visitors…’ Marie continued.
‘George has just left for them, they were in a neighbour’s for the morning,’ Michael added.
‘I told them that you might come up to the house for tea, that maybe Mr Fitzpatrick and his guests might come up too.’ Marie raised her eyebrows in anticipation. She knew by involving Eve and Jack in the equation, it would be a hard invitation for Rose and Tim to refuse. Having Rose Fitzpatrick, or O’ Reilly as she was now, in Kilkenny was exactly the opportunity she needed to follow through on her mother-in-law’s plan.
‘I suppose that’d be okay,’ Rose said, surprising herself and by the expression on Tim’s face, him too. ‘We have Robert and Lizzie, with us though,’ she said searching around for either one of them, ‘they are here somewhere.’ She shrugged.
‘Of course, all welcome,’ Mar
ie said. ‘Nothing fancy mind, but Eve and I did a little baking,’ she added.
‘Okay then, Fitzpatrick Farm, it is,’ Rose announced; much to Tim’s amazement. ‘Or Estate, I mean.’ She remembered the new title the McGraths had given it but despite the new name, to Rose it was still the same place and the thoughts of going back to the house filled her with dread.
*
Lizzie read the text for a third time, shut her phone off and zipped it back inside her oversized bag. She could barely believe it. She hesitated before she lifted her head, knowing from the three sentences he had sent her that he was watching her, waiting for her to speak to him.
I’m in Kilkenny, I need to speak to you. It’s not what you think.
She didn’t answer. Since she had left him in London she had wondered what he would do and his text had answered it. She backed away from the gathering and placed her back against the graveyard wall. Keeping her head low, she replayed the sentences in her head.
‘There you are,’ Robert said.
‘There I am,’ she said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.
‘Your mum is wondering where you got to.’
‘Just answering some emails.’ She patted her bag. ‘I need to make a call though.’ She looked expectantly at Robert. ‘Can I borrow the car keys?’ she asked; her voice shaky.
‘Sure, they’ve just to do the shaking hands bit, but then I think I overheard your mother arranging for us to go back up to the McGraths’ for tea,’ Robert said, unsure of the arrangements himself.
‘Okay,’ she said distractedly, darting her eyes across the road. She knew Lucas would be waiting to catch her on her own.
She hurried to the car, clicked the fob, opened the car door and sat in it. Moments later, she watched him in the rear-view mirror approach the car. He bent to look in the passenger window and she motioned at him to get in.
‘It’s good to see you,’ Lucas said and reached across to kiss her. He was dying to hold her, continue where they left off before any of this Kilkenny stuff had interfered with them. Lizzie rebuffed his attempt. ‘Listen, I know, this seems as though I’m like a vulture circling overhead, but it’s not like that.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I’m here for a different reason, I promise you,’ he said, watching Lizzie scan her mirrors. ‘There are no other reporters,’ he said. ‘If that’s what you’re looking for.’
‘I’m not,’ she answered abruptly, not meeting his gaze. ‘And I don’t know why you’re saying that, as if it’s a good thing. Seeing as you are the only one low enough to cover a funeral,’ she added.
He didn’t take the time to explain that had it not been for him, the reporters would have been all over the place. ‘Where’s your old friend then, the one you dropped everything for?’ the thoughts of Lucas’s old girlfriend from college had been forefront on Lizzie’s mind.
‘It’s complicated, Lizzie’ Lucas sighed, ‘but I can assure you it is not what you think, and she wasn’t exactly my girlfriend’. It had been odd for Lucas seeing Marie arrive earlier, with her husband in tow. For a time in college they had been inseparable, the best and closest of friends and Lucas had ruined that with his jealousy, he knew that now and if he was honest, he knew that then. This was his chance to make amends with Marie and show her that it was her friendship that he had cared about most.
‘And I’m not here to cover the funeral…’ he hesitated. ‘I mean, it’s not like that.’
‘So you’re not here to write a story about the forty-six-year-old murder of one of my family members?’ She asked.
‘I am but…’ he said.
She didn’t let him finish. ‘So what then?’ She looked in her rear-view mirror and saw the small crowd dispersing.
He wasn’t able to answer her, not concisely anyhow. ‘Can I come see you in Dublin tomorrow, before I head back, I’ll explain then,’ he pleaded, he placed his hand on the door handle, waiting for an answer.
‘I won’t be in Dublin,’ she said sullenly. ‘I’ll be here, in Kilkenny in the morning.’
‘Okay, good then.’ He watched the crowd approaching through the mirrors. ‘Just do one thing for me, please.’ He opened the door and placed one foot outside. ‘Just answer my call in the morning and I’ll explain everything then, please.’
‘I’ll answer the phone,’ she said, ‘that’s all I can promise.’
‘Lizzie, I’m so sorry about all this, I really am, I’m not doing what you think I’m doing, I promise you.’ He couldn’t have been any more sincere but couldn’t find better words to articulate what he felt for her. He smiled and left the car before the others noticed.
‘Lizzie, you okay?’ Tim spoke as she climbed out of the car a couple of moments later.
‘Sure, fine,’ she said. She glanced towards the silver Volkswagen Golf, the hired car that Lucas got into. ‘Grand.’ She hesitated. ‘Eh, everything okay with Mum?’ she asked, changing the subject, she couldn’t be sure if anyone had seen Lucas leave; she’d have some explaining to do if they had.
‘She’s actually fine,’ Tim said. ‘Surprisingly,’ he added. ‘And she’s arranged for us all to go to the McGraths’, apparently.’
‘That’s fantastic.’ Lizzie had never been brought to Fitzpatrick Farm before and was eager to see where her Mum and her uncle had grown up. It would have been a shame to be so close and not have seen it.
Chapter 28
Saturday Afternoon – 2016
Since Lucas had arrived in Kilkenny, Marie had been on edge waiting to tell Michael what she had done.
‘I was anxious about this morning, were you?’ she asked Michael as they made their way back to their car. She didn’t wait for him to answer. ‘I thought more people from the town would have turned out to see what was going on?’ she said, trying to work in the conversation about Lucas. She needed to explain. ‘It was unusual not to have more photographers and reporters there, don’t you think?’ she offered.
‘Yeah, maybe,’ he said.
Marie searched for the words to use to tell him that it wasn’t just by chance that the media had lost interest. ‘The thing is, Michael,’ she swallowed and cleared her throat. ‘I asked Lucas to get involved.’
‘You did what?’ Michael was incredulous.
‘I went ahead and asked him to do me a favour, sort of kill the story, or at least spin it in such a way that it has nothing to do with us,’ she blurted.
Michael’s brow furrowed. In his memory, Lucas wasn’t the type of guy that would go out of his way to help anyone, especially not him, not after he had warned him off nearly twenty years ago. He shook his head.
‘Look, Michael, I know you don’t like him…’ Marie said. Michael never told her how he threatened Lucas to sling his hook and leave Marie alone all those years ago, he hadn’t seen the point. ‘But he was a good friend, once upon a time, and I really just wanted the story to go away.’ She sighed. ‘He was the best for the job.’
‘Lucas,’ He threw her a hopeless glance. ‘The guy who was madly in love with you and begged you to leave me,’ he said, his voice louder. ‘For him,’ he added. He fixed his wide eyes on hers in disbelief.
‘We were just kids then, Michael, he was just worried for me,’ she answered. ‘You were ten years older than me, he…’ She reconsidered. ‘They,’ she emphasised, referring to her entire college class, ‘well, they were just looking out for me.’
‘They might have been, Marie, but he definitely was only worried for himself.’ He checked his rear-view mirror. ‘For fuck’s sake, Marie.’
‘Look, he is quite good at what he does, and he can help make our connection to the story go away, you know he can,’ Marie pleaded, she wanted to tell him the truth but couldn’t. ‘Just be pleasant to him, please, if you see him,’ she added. She had no idea how the day was going to end up but with the connection to Lizzie and the Fitzpatrick family, she needed Michael to at least not do anything he would regret. ‘He’s doing us a favour.’ She couldn’t explain why it was so important to have t
he story managed, not without breaking the promise she had made to his mother.
‘Pleasant to him, are you listening to yourself?’ Michael said.
She had given Lucas as much detail as she could muster, the time of the funeral, the names of the old families and even the names of the detectives covering the case. Somewhere inside of the detail was the real personal story, the one that she promised to protect, and someone with Lucas’s ability could surely spin a better story. Marie sat silently, the tension between them filling the air.
‘Look, I know you don’t approve, but I know what I’m doing,’ she said, adamant that her decision had been the best one, in his best interest. ‘It was more about damage control than it was about anything else, ‘for Christ’s sake,’ she added slightly louder than she’d intended.
‘Marie, it’s not the principle of what you are trying to do, I just don’t understand how you could contact him,’ Michael said; his voice deliberately controlled, kept in time with the rhythm of the indicator as he pulled out into traffic. ‘Of all people, seriously.’
‘If I know, or knew,’ she clarified, ‘anything about journalism and the way sensationalism works, I know that this,’ Marie spoke with her hands, ‘me, ringing Lucas,’ she glanced at his reaction to her mentioning his name, ‘is a small price to pay to get the story buried, or if not buried at least controlled.’
‘Jesus, are you listening to yourself, you sound like a campaign manager for Trump. When will you realise, it doesn’t bloody matter what people think, it was nothing to do with us, Marie?’ Michael said. ‘We were just the ones that discovered it.’
‘I know, Michael, I just didn’t want the bad smell to be hanging around us for ever more. I know how these cretins work, Michael—’
‘Lucas being the biggest cretin of all,’ Michael interrupted her, a flicker of anger flashed across his face.