The Dublin Murder Mysteries: Books four to six

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The Dublin Murder Mysteries: Books four to six Page 45

by Valerie Keogh


  Parsons swallowed. ‘Yes, the other dentists in the practice can cover for me. I’ll ring them and let them know.’

  ‘Do,’ West said. He checked his watch. ‘We’ll stay until the squad car gets here.’

  ‘What am I going to tell Ella?’ Parsons said, his voice a broken whisper. ‘She’ll never cope with this.’

  Andrews leaned forward. ‘I’d simply tell her that we’ve assigned Garda surveillance to prevent another graffiti attack.’

  ‘Yes, yes, that would work,’ Parsons said. ‘Thank you.’

  There was the sound of a car crunching on the gravel of the driveway. ‘That’s them,’ West said, turning to peer out the window behind him. He got to his feet. ‘We’ll have a word with them before we leave, get them to check the back of the house. If there are any developments, we’ll be in touch.’

  After a word with the uniformed Gardaí, West and Andrews returned to Foxrock station.

  ‘I’ll go and fill Morrison in,’ West said, taking the steps two at a time. The inspector looked up as he swung into the room with the barest sound of a knuckle hitting the door. ‘It’s urgent.’

  ‘So I should think.’ Morrison pushed his keyboard away and looked at him expectantly. ‘I hope you’re going to tell me you’ve solved the case.’

  ‘Not quite. It’s got a bit more complicated.’

  Morrison shut his eyes and groaned loudly. ‘I do not need complicated. I need solved.’

  ‘We’ve arrested Milo Bennet.’

  ‘Well I suppose that’s one case solved.’

  ‘Not for the graffiti.’

  Morrison’s eyes narrowed. ‘I can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re itching to tell me so spit it out. The sooner I know the worst, the sooner I can recover.’

  West took a step towards the desk and rested his hands flat on it. ‘Milo Bennet and Ashley Bolger lured Furlong to the church where he was murdered. I’ve sent a car to pick up Bolger.’

  For a moment, it looked as if Morrison was waiting for the punchline to a bad joke. When it didn’t come, he did something that had never happened in the time West was in Foxrock. He stood up and moved to the corner where a pot of coffee was brewing. He poured two cups, added milk to both and handed one across to West. ‘If you need sugar, you’re out of luck. I don’t keep any.’

  ‘Thank you,’ West said, taking a sip. It was much better coffee than they had downstairs.

  ‘Right, you’d better explain,’ Morrison said, sitting back into his chair. ‘And, please, try to keep it simple.’

  West sipped his coffee as he filled the inspector in. ‘I’m hoping Bolger might be able to tell us who this Pa is. Meanwhile, we’ve put out a protection detail guarding the Parsons.’ He saw Morrison’s mouth twitch as he considered the implications of overtime. ‘You saw the murder scene in the church: this Pa strikes me as a psychopath.’

  ‘Sounds like a right fruitcake to me,’ Morrison said. ‘I agree though. Fruitcakes, psychopaths, whatever you want to call them, they tend to be unpredictable. I don’t want another murder on our patch.’

  Promising to keep him up to speed, West left the inspector and headed down to the general office.

  ‘Jarvis had a reply from that Remembrance group,’ Andrews said as he approached. ‘They meet at one every Tuesday so we’ve missed it today, I’m afraid. But we did get an address so I have him searching for the details of ownership or rental.’

  ‘Good,’ West said. He rubbed his neck. ‘Edwards and Allen are gone to pick up Ashley Bolger?’

  ‘Yes, they left with sirens blazing, they won’t be too long.’

  West went into his office, Andrews trailing behind. ‘Let’s hope he knows who this Pa person is.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘We’re so close.’

  ‘We’ll get him. Baxter is looking into the address: he’ll find something for us.’

  It was a more belligerent Ashley Bolger who arrived in the station forty minutes later.

  ‘He wasn’t keen on coming,’ Edwards said. ‘Even less keen when we told him he didn’t have a choice and read him his rights.’

  ‘Okay, thanks, Andrews and I will speak to him. Contact our sketch artist, Robert, and get him to work with Milo Bennet to come up with an image of this Pa guy. Tell him it’s urgent.’

  If Edwards were disappointed in being excluded from the interview with Ashley Bolger, he didn’t say. ‘Will do. If he could come immediately, we could show it to Bolger, see if he agrees and maybe Robert could make changes if necessary.’

  ‘Good idea,’ West said, getting to his feet. Out in the main office, Baxter was on the phone, frowning in concentration. When he saw West’s interested gaze, he shook his head and mouthed, ‘no luck.’

  No luck yet. But they’d get there. He gave Baxter a thumbs up and turned to find Andrews behind him looking unusually grim. ‘You ready for this?’

  ‘We’re going to get him for setting Furlong up on that rape charge too, aren’t we?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ West said, leading the way to the Big One. ‘Once we have his confession, we’ll get the lads to pick up the lovely Laetitia Summers and she’ll be charged with perverting the course of justice and anything else we can throw at her.’

  Ashley Bolger was sitting with legs splayed and arms folded, his mouth tight and pinched in anger. ‘You lot are going to pay for this,’ he said. ‘Coming into my place of work, embarrassing me. You think McD’s are going to take kindly to that?’

  West and Andrews sat opposite. ‘I think what McD’s does won’t be a concern of yours for…’ He looked at Andrews. ‘How long do you think?’

  ‘If he behaves, maybe twenty years.’

  Bolger laughed. ‘Yea, right! Listen, I’ve watched Line of Duty, I know how you lot operate. I’m saying nothing without a solicitor present.’

  West picked up the file he had dropped on the table. ‘Fine,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘We have Milo Bennet next door, perhaps he’ll be more accommodating. We’ll be sure to tell the judge that you refused to co-operate to save the lives of Ella and Nick Parsons and their nine-month-old baby.’ West had no idea how old the baby was, but, he guessed, neither would Ashley Bolger.

  ‘I don’t know nothing about no baby!’

  ‘When your trick to have Cormac Furlong punished by being imprisoned for rape didn’t work out to your liking…’ West almost smiled at Bolger’s shocked reaction. That it was still all supposition wasn’t something Bolger needed to know. ‘Yes, we know all about that. When it didn’t work, the next step was to have Cormac killed. The graffiti didn’t succeed in frightening the Parsons away so isn’t it logical that the next step would also be murder? And Ella Parsons is never far from her baby.’ West could see Bolger thinking this through, wondering what they knew, trying to find a way out.

  ‘We’ll leave you to wait for your solicitor while we go and speak to Mr Bennet.’

  ‘Wait, I don’t know where you heard all that stuff but it’s not true.’ A note of panic had crept into Bolger’s voice.

  ‘Not true that it happened… or not true that it was your idea?’ West waved the file. ‘Problem is, Mr Bolger, we know it happened that way.’

  Bolger’s eyes followed the file as West continued to wave it.

  ‘And perhaps Mr Bennet will confirm that it was all your idea.’

  ‘No!’ The cry was automatic, pushed from him almost as if against his will. Bolger looked horrified.

  West slapped the file on the desk and sat. ‘So, it wasn’t your idea?’

  ‘No, it wasn’t my bloody idea! It was that idiot, Pa.’

  ‘What’s Pa’s surname?’ West held his breath and waited for an answer. He wasn’t to be lucky.

  ‘I don’t know… I swear,’ Bolger insisted, perspiration bubbling on his forehead. ‘He said it was to protect us all. Made it sound all very hush-hush… a bit exciting, I suppose.’

  ‘Where did you meet him?’

  Bolger slumped in the chair, all his hard-man bravado evapora
ting. ‘I was picking Laetitia up from the library early last year and was hanging around waiting for her, reading the noticeboard to pass the time. I saw a leaflet for a group called Remembrance. Debbie was always telling me that I should go for counselling that I had–’ he crooked his index fingers in the air to make quotation marks ‘–unresolved issues.’ Letting his hands drop to the table, he hunched forward. ‘Me and Laetitia had been going out about six months at the time. I liked her a lot but she said she was tired of my mood swings so I thought maybe Debbie was right. So, I emailed the group and started to go every Tuesday.’

  He went for help and ended up meeting a monster. ‘Tell us what happened,’ West said quietly.

  Bolger sat back. ‘It was what I expected at first, a lot of people talking about bad experiences. But, on my second visit, Pa took me aside. He agreed with Debbie that I had unresolved issues but whereas Debbie wanted me to forget about the past and move on, Pa told me I couldn’t move on until I had dealt with it.’

  Andrews frowned and held up a hand. ‘How did you find out that Ian Moore was Cormac Furlong?’

  There was only a faint hesitation before Bolger shrugged. ‘There was an old calendar in Laetitia’s bedroom, guys with their kit off hiding their bits behind cars and bikes, you know the way. It was out of date but she’d change the page now and then.’ Suddenly, Bolger looked younger, more vulnerable. ‘One morning I was lying there waiting for her to wake up and I saw him.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘I always thought I might, someday. Lots of people thought he’d topped himself but I knew he hadn’t. I knew he was hiding away somewhere like the coward that he was. The coward who’d killed my brother. And there he was on my girlfriend’s damn bedroom wall.’

  Laetitia had told West she’d never seen the calendar. ‘She helped you set Furlong up?’

  This time there was no hesitation, as if Bolger wanted to unload everything. ‘I lied when I said we were only going out a year, we’ve been together over two. I told her about him, about what he’d done. I wanted to go to the guards and tell them I’d found him but she convinced me not to. She said they hadn’t believed he was responsible back then so why would they believe it now. Changing your name wasn’t a crime, after all. The next time I went to the Remembrance meeting I told Pa about it. He told me to take charge of my own destiny.’ A smile quivered and died. ‘He said things like that.’

  ‘Was it his idea to set Furlong up for raping Laetitia?’

  ‘No, that was Laetitia’s. She planned it all.’ He sighed loudly. ‘The night it happened, I was in the laneway when they came in. I wanted to kill him but instead I watched him and my girlfriend snogging. She kept at it until he’d shot his load into her hands. The drugs she’d slipped into his drink were starting to act and he was barely able to stand by then. We pushed him out of the lane to the main road and scarpered. My car was nearby. Laetitia got inside and wiped the gunk onto the leg of her trousers.’

  ‘The sexual assault clinic’s report spoke of extensive bruising.’

  Colour flashed across Bolger’s cheeks. ‘Laetitia likes it rough. That night she was like a tiger, she had me doing all kinds of stuff.’

  Leaving the manipulative woman with enough bruises to help support her pack of lies. ‘You didn’t offer her any inducements to go along with it, did you?’

  Bolger looked at West blankly. ‘What?’

  ‘Money,’ Andrews explained. ‘Did you offer to pay her to help you?’

  ‘Pay her? No, of course not.’

  West nodded. They’d been on the wrong track there. ‘Okay, so Furlong was convicted for rape and sent to prison. Why didn’t you leave it at that?’

  ‘He only served eight months. You think that was long enough for what he did? Murdering my brother, destroying my family. Eight months!’

  Revenge: it ate away at people, destroying what was left of their lives. For a second, West’s thoughts drifted to another man. Eamonn Hall. Such a waste. As it was for this young man who might have had a chance if he hadn’t hooked up with that devious, manipulative woman and Pa. They had to find Pa. ‘Whose idea was it to murder Furlong?’

  Bolger dragged a hand over his mouth. ‘I told Pa about the rape set-up, and how justice had failed again with its miserable eight-month sentence. Pa told me to leave it to him, that he’d see Cormac got what he deserved. We had to get him to the church and into the confessional. It was easier than I’d expected. I borrowed a gun from a mate.’ He held up a hand. ‘Don’t ask, I’m not telling. Furlong came with me and Milo, without any fuss.’ Bolger’s lips curled in a sneer. ‘Told you he was a coward, he didn’t put up the least bit of resistance.’

  ‘You knew what Pa had planned?’ Andrews asked.

  There was a long silence before Bolger slowly shook his head. ‘When I asked, Pa said I wasn’t to worry. That everything would be all right. He told us to put him in the penitent’s box of the confessional. I thought maybe he was going to make him confess to having killed Gary. If he had, he’d have gone away for a long time. It would have been right.’ There was a tremor in his voice. A hand went up to rub his eyes. Or maybe wipe away tears. ‘When I saw him… all the blood… I was stunned.’ He talked them through carrying the body up to the altar. Pa’s insistence that they clean away all evidence of blood afterward. ‘He didn’t want us to leave a mess,’ he said.

  ‘And you’ve no idea who this Pa is?’

  ‘No, he never spoke about any personal stuff. Apart from the night he killed Furlong, I’d only ever met him in that poky room in Sandymount.’

  West and Andrews spent another hour prising out every scrap of information they could before calling a halt. Leaving a very subdued Bolger to be escorted to a cell, they headed back to the office with grim faces.

  ‘Anything?’

  Baxter shook his head. ‘The group leader hires the room from the takeaway below for an hour every week. Thirty euro paid in advance. Cash.’ He looked at a sheet of paper on his desk. ‘The takeaway owner said he believes in don’t ask don’t tell.

  ‘Convenient. I hope you put him right.’

  ‘I told him as owner of the premises, he has a duty of care and we’d be in contact if the Director of Public Prosecutions decided to press charges for negligence.’

  West smiled. It wasn’t going to happen but it might ensure the owner be a little more careful in future. The smile faded. ‘Right, we need to find this Pa guy.’ He looked around the room. ‘Ideas, anyone?’

  Blank expressions and slow headshakes. They’d hit a brick wall.

  37

  Edel walked into a silent room, all the detectives looking unusually serious. Something, she guessed, wasn’t going their way. Maybe it wasn’t a good time to interfere but she knew what she had to tell them was important.

  ‘Hello,’ she said, drawing all eyes immediately to her and wilting under their intensity. En masse, they were an intimidating group. When they saw it was her, there were quick smiles and shouts of greeting.

  ‘Hi,’ Mike said, walking over to meet her, a smile on his lips and in his eyes. ‘Are you okay?’ He always worried about her; over the last year she’d given him plenty of reason but she was hoping he’d stop seeing her as a victim. When she saw the smile in his eyes change to concern, she knew he hadn’t yet. Unfortunately, what she had to tell him wasn’t going to help.

  ‘I need to talk to you,’ she said, waving a hello to the rest of the room.

  Mike frowned. ‘I’m really busy. Can it wait until tonight?’

  Edel reached into her pocket for the leaflet. ‘It’s about this,’ she said, holding it out.

  He took it from her but his eyes stayed on her face, searching. ‘What about it?’

  She’d never been able to hide what she was thinking from him. She saw realisation dawn, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. ‘You’d better come into my office. Something tells me I’m not going to like what you’re going to tell me.’

  He didn’t. ‘You did what?’ His voice was tight, anger held
in by force of will.

  Edel didn’t think she’d ever seen him so annoyed. He shut the door of the office and glared at her, then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the anger vanished.

  ‘I did send you a message to say where I was going… just in case.’

  ‘It was on silent, I usually check it but…’ He took out his phone and read her message. ‘It would have been some consolation to get that after they found you dead.’ But his voice was resigned rather than infuriated. ‘Bloody hell, Edel, you’ll be the death of me.’ He pulled her into a quick hug, then pushed her away. ‘I assume you’ve come here because you’ve found out something.’

  When she murmured ‘Yes,’ he paced the office. ‘Okay,’ he said, turning to look at her. ‘I haven’t time to dance around here. We have two men in custody but we think the guy who runs this group is the mastermind behind the murder of Cormac Furlong. If you’ve found something, tell all the team. We’re under pressure with this one.’

  He didn’t wait for her to agree, reaching behind her to open the office door and waving her out. ‘Listen up,’ he said, raising his voice to get the team’s attention. ‘We’ve had a bit of luck. You all know Edel, and what she’s been through in the last year.’

  Edel watched their reactions. How was he going to spin this one?

  ‘Well, she decided to go for counselling and, by an amazing coincidence–’ he held up the leaflet ‘–she chose this place. Her first visit was today. She has agreed to share her experience with us.’

  Edel looked at West in admiration. He was good. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have believed his tale. The only person who raised an eyebrow in disbelief was Andrews but then he saw through everything.

  She shoved her hands in her pockets and looked around the room as she spoke. ‘The man who runs it calls himself Pa. I don’t know what it’s short for, I didn’t have an opportunity to ask. He stressed the need for confidentiality without giving a reason.’ There was a desk behind her and she perched on it, relaxing despite the eyes fixed on her.

 

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