The Dublin Murder Mysteries: Books four to six

by Valerie Keogh

  Ignoring him, West started the engine and resumed the journey.

  They were in luck and found a parking space close by. Five minutes later they were standing in Niall Kennedy’s office. ‘You’ll want this one here,’ West said, putting the cake box on top of a pile of folders where it wobbled precariously before settling. ‘I think that one needs to go elsewhere.’

  ‘The Four Marys.’ Andrews lifted the lid of the box to show the contents. ‘Meet Simpson, Radleigh, Cotter and Field.’

  To his surprise, Kennedy grinned and took the box from him. ‘I didn’t take you for a Bunty fan. My older sister was though. She had four hideous dolls named after them, used to take them everywhere with her.’ He kicked the door open. ‘The lab is free, let’s bring them in there and have a look.’

  Kennedy put the box down on a stainless-steel trolley, pulled on a pair of disposable gloves and opened the box. He whistled softly under his breath as he took out each skull and looked at it closely. A few minutes later, all four were lined up, their empty eye sockets staring at the three men.

  ‘Very interesting,’ Kennedy said, peeling off the gloves. He pressed the foot pedal of a bin and dropped them inside. ‘I assume that other box contained something equally exciting?’

  ‘Sugar and cream in perfect proportion,’ West said as they walked back to Kennedy’s office.

  Andrews perched on the side of the desk eating his éclair while West and Kennedy with their meringues on plates, took the two chairs.

  With his pastry gone in three bites, Andrews’ focus was back on the skulls. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘That these meringues are the best,’ Kennedy said, then shrugged. ‘I need to take some measurements, do a DNA comparison but I’d be surprised if they weren’t a match to our headless bodies. On a purely visual examination, two are marginally smaller indicating female skulls.’

  ‘Or younger victims?’

  Kennedy shook his head. ‘I’ve put the ages of the older corpses to be between thirty-five to forty-five and the younger between twenty and thirty.’

  ‘That’s a big margin for error,’ West said, putting his plate down and brushing meringue crumbs from his hands.

  ‘Bone morphology – symphyseal and auricular changes – doesn’t get more accurate than a ten-year plus or minus, I’m afraid,’ Kennedy said.

  ‘Their joints?’ West guessed.

  ‘That’s it. It’s as reliable as we can get without a skull. If the DNA proves the skulls belong to the bodies, I might be able to narrow the margin a little but it’s always going to be a fairly wide estimate.’

  ‘What about the relationship between them,’ Andrews asked. ‘Will the DNA give us that?’

  ‘Yes, we’ve been assuming they are parents and children. It’ll prove if we’re correct.’

  ‘Anything that will help us to find out who they are will be good,’ West said. ‘Right, we’ll let you get on with it.’

  Kennedy held up his hand. ‘Hang on a sec, there’s something else I wanted to speak to you about. I did the post on Muriel Hennessy this morning. I’d anticipated a quick one based on the report of her death, the usual stroke or heart attack, so I was mildly irritated to get a call from one of your team, Detective Garda Jarvis, to tell me they were now treating it as a suspicious death.’

  ‘It would be routine to inform you,’ West said, always ready to defend his team when they were in the right.

  ‘Oh, I’m not complaining, in fact I’m grateful.’

  ‘He was right?’ Andrews said, surprised.

  ‘He was indeed. And I think I’d have missed it if he hadn’t alerted me. I’d have made the lazy assumption that she was an elderly woman with existing cardiac disease who overdid it and suffered a heart attack as a result.’

  ‘But she didn’t?’

  ‘No, she did. A massive coronary. Death would have been instantaneous. Had I not spoken to Detective Garda Jarvis only moments before, I might have left it at that but he sounded so convinced there was something iffy about her death, it made me look a little deeper and then…’ Kennedy shook his head, a look of amusement crossing his face. ‘Seriously, you two, you have the weirdest habit of attracting the oddest cases.’

  West shut his eyes and groaned. ‘Please, tell me you’re joking!’

  ‘I’m afraid not.’

  Andrews shifted his position on the desk all the better to stare at Kennedy. ‘The heart attack wasn’t natural?’

  ‘I’m still waiting for toxicology reports and they may, of course, show something unusual.’ Kennedy shook his head slowly. ‘I doubt it though. Muriel Hennessy did have advanced coronary heart disease. I’d guess she’d been having chest pains for a while.’ He tapped the file on the desk beside him. ‘Her medical records are scanty. The only GP visit in the last year was related to increased arthritic pains which reduced her mobility. There is a reference to her having an irregular heartbeat but she refused to have it checked out. She should have done.’

  West was puzzled. ‘So, this elderly woman with a bad heart, had a heart attack and died. That sounds straightforward.’

  ‘Yes, it does, doesn’t it?’ Kennedy sat back and folded his arms. ‘Except for one tiny detail.’

  West glanced at Andrews who shrugged. ‘Let him have his moment of fun.’

  ‘Thank you, Peter. I have little opportunity for it in here.’

  ‘Well, if you’re finished enjoying yourself,’ West said, ‘would you tell us what is going on?’

  ‘Muriel Hennessy died of a massive heart attack… that’s the straightforward bit. The complicated, puzzling bit is, I’m not sure when she died.’

  ‘Her body was found on Friday, five days after she was last seen by her family. It had to have been somewhere in that time period.’ West frowned when he saw the pathologist shake his head. ‘Explain.’

  ‘Yes, okay.’ Kennedy’s expression turned serious. ‘I won’t bore you with the science bit but with Jarvis’s enthusiastic words ringing in my ears, I looked more carefully at Muriel Hennessy and that’s when I noticed it. Ruptured blood cells and intracellular fluid.’ He looked at each of the detectives expectantly, shaking his head as they looked back blankly. ‘It explained something else that was puzzling me… a slightly more advanced deterioration in the peripheral tissues than in the internal organs.’

  ‘She’d been frozen?’ West said, remembering an article he’d read years before. ‘Frozen and thawed too quickly so that decomposition began in the peripheries while the internal organs were still frozen.’

  Kennedy looked impressed. ‘Very good. That’s it exactly.’

  Andrews looked from one to the other. ‘We’re not, I assume, talking about a bit of frostbite from lying outside for a few nights.’

  ‘No.’ Kennedy shook his head. ‘For this level of cellular damage, the body would have had to be frozen solid. Think frozen-turkey frozen.’

  ‘But the cause of death is still a heart attack?’ Andrews tried to get the facts sorted in his head.

  ‘Yes, but whether she had it before she was frozen… or while she was being frozen… it’s impossible to tell, I’m afraid.’

  West shut his eyes briefly and rubbed a hand over his face. ‘Okay,’ he said, dragging the word out. ‘How long would it take to freeze a body?’

  ‘Depending on the freezer… two, maybe three days.’

  ‘And how long to defrost?’

  ‘I think the reason that there was a discrepancy in the level of the decomposition of peripheries compared to internal organs is that they did it too quickly. The optimum way would have been to defrost in a refrigerator for at least a week.’

  ‘But they hurried the process?’

  ‘Yes, or they may not have had a suitable refrigerator unit. Large freezers are much easier to come by.’ He lifted a hand, index finger extended to make a point. ‘But I’m not talking a much shorter period in this case. Maybe six days. Had it been shorter, there would have been a more obvious difference in levels of deterio
ration.’

  ‘Two to three days to freeze, maybe six to defrost. We’re looking at eight days minimum then?’

  ‘It’s hard to pinpoint–’

  ‘Your professional opinion,’ West said, pressing him.

  Kennedy, no more than anyone, didn’t like being pushed into a corner. He hesitated and then huffed in annoyance. ‘Fine, if you insist, in my professional opinion the process of freezing and defrosting would have taken a minimum of eight days.’

  West met Andrews’ eyes. Then she can’t have been seen on the previous Sunday or Friday. Muriel Hennessy’s family had lied.

  11

  For the first few miles of the drive back to Foxrock, both West and Andrews were lost in thought.

  It was Andrews who spoke first. ‘He was right, though, wasn’t he?’

  West glanced at him. ‘About us getting the oddest cases, you mean?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I suppose he was. We’ve certainly had more than our fair share of doozies.’

  ‘Doozies.’ Andrews laughed. ‘Lamprey eels, little kids in suitcases, a man crucified in the church–’

  ‘He wasn’t precisely crucified.’

  ‘As good as. And now this. Why would Muriel Hennessy’s family have frozen her? It doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘Maybe they had a row,’ West said. ‘Muriel had a heart attack and died. They were afraid they’d be blamed so they put her into the freezer while they planned what to do?’ He indicated for the turn into Foxrock Garda Station and pulled into his parking space.

  ‘Or maybe they put her into the freezer while she was alive to kill her off, and she had a heart attack before she froze to death?’

  ‘Motive?’ West said as they walked into the station.

  ‘She was troublesome and demanding or she had money and they wanted it?’

  ‘Or both.’

  ‘Or both,’ Andrews agreed.

  Sam Jarvis was on the phone when they went into the detective unit. West waved at him to get his attention and pointed towards his office.

  ‘You were right,’ West said a minute later as Jarvis hovered in the doorway.

  The younger officer’s face lit up. ‘You spoke to Kennedy?’

  ‘Yes, sit, I’ll fill you in.’

  Jarvis listened, his eyes growing wider. ‘Frozen!’ Shock made his voice sharp. ‘Cara Donaldson and Liam Hennessy froze their mother, then defrosted her and dumped the poor old dear’s body in that lane. Left her there for the rats to nibble!’

  ‘Yes, but the cause of death is definitely a heart attack,’ West said. ‘We need to bring them in for questioning. The daughter lied to us about seeing her on the Sunday, and if Kennedy’s time frame is correct, the son also lied about seeing her on Friday.’

  ‘Mrs Hennessy may have had a heart attack and the daughter panicked when she found her dead. Putting her in a freezer is an odd thing to do but…’ He shrugged.

  ‘We’ve seen odder,’ West agreed. ‘Yes, that’s a possibility as is the other idea, that the son or the daughter, or both of them, put her into the freezer in order to kill her and she had a heart attack from the shock of it.’

  ‘Hmm.’ Jarvis gave that idea some consideration. ‘I suppose it would be a bloodless crime. All you’d need is a decent size chest freezer. Mrs Hennessy wasn’t a big woman, even one person could have managed it. All they would have had to do is ask her to fetch something from the freezer, then when she was leaning in, grab her feet and toss her in.’

  ‘I’m glad you’re on our side,’ West said with a raise of an eyebrow.

  Andrews, meanwhile, was staring at Jarvis as if he’d never seen him before. ‘I always thought butter wouldn’t melt,’ he said with a shake of his head.

  Jarvis grinned. ‘It’s keeping company with you lot.’

  West tapped a finger rhythmically on the desk. ‘You are right, of course. It wouldn’t have been hard to do. We need to find that freezer.’

  ‘It might have been in her own home,’ Andrews pointed out.

  ‘Yes, indeed it might. There must have been keys found on her, or have they been handed back to the family?’

  ‘I’ll check,’ Jarvis said, getting to his feet. ‘Will I bring her son and daughter in for questioning?’

  West frowned, his finger still drumming the desk. ‘We need to go carefully; they have just lost their mother. Tell them something has come up and ask if they’ll come in. We might need to get a search warrant to look for a chest freezer in their homes but we’ll take a softly-softly approach for now, okay?’

  The following morning both siblings arrived within minutes of each other wearing fixed expressions of confusion.

  Liam Hennessy was a florid-faced, dumpy man with a receding hairline. Unfortunately, he’d decided to dye the remnant of his hair black, the result making him look remarkably like one of the Lego figures Jarvis’s nephew liked to play with. Jarvis tried not to stare as he introduced himself. ‘I’m Detective Garda Jarvis and this is my colleague Detective Garda Allen. ‘We appreciate your coming in and hope we can get this sorted as quickly as possible.’

  ‘What exactly is this?’ Hennessy said, crooking his forefingers in the air around the word. ‘Apart from being most inconvenient, that is.’

  ‘Honestly, you’re always Mr So-Important.’ Cara Donaldson, a petite, elegant woman with sun-streaked brown hair shot a scathing look at her brother before turning to Jarvis. ‘We will, of course, do anything we can to help. I understand you wanted to discuss the results of the post-mortem with us.’

  ‘That’s correct,’ Jarvis said. He raised a hand in the direction of the interview rooms. ‘It’s best to talk somewhere more private.’ He stopped at the door to the Big One and pushed it open. ‘Unfortunately,’ he said, looking from one to the other of the siblings, ‘rules prohibit us from speaking to more than one person at a time in the interview rooms.’ He waved a dismissive hand and hoped they’d swallow the lie. Groups of people were frequently seen in the interview rooms – but not when they were under investigation. ‘Rules and regulations, they’ll be the bane of us, won’t they?’

  ‘If you would come with me,’ Allen said to Liam Hennessy, standing back to allow him to pass.

  Hennessy hesitated. ‘If it’s upsetting news, shouldn’t I be with my sister?’

  Cara laughed. ‘What, so that I can console you? Don’t be such a wuss, Liam. Go with the officer so we can hear what they have to say and get out of here.’ She looked at Jarvis. ‘No offence, but I’ve better places to spend my morning.’

  ‘No offence taken,’ he said, ‘now if you’d take a seat, we can get started.’

  West was already seated at the table. He stood and held out his hand. ‘Detective Garda Sergeant West,’ he said. ‘My condolences on your loss, Mrs Donaldson, and thanks for obliging us by coming in so quickly.’

  Cara gave him an appraising glance as she extended her hand. ‘Thank you, and I’m happy to help but do call me Cara.’

  ‘Thank you, now please, take a seat.’

  Jarvis pointed to the camera mounted in the corner of the room. ‘It’s standard operating procedure to record all interviews and to read the interviewee their rights at the commencement of each,’ he said, smiling as if to say the rules were crazy but had to be kept.

  ‘Odd,’ she said but showed no discomfort as she was read her rights and answered a bored ‘yes’ when asked if she understood. ‘Honestly,’ she said, ‘if you have to go through this palaver every time you need to speak to someone, I’m surprised you get any work done.’

  West sat back and kept his eyes on the woman as Jarvis opened the file in front of him. She seemed completely at ease but she looked like the kind of woman who quickly adapted to her circumstances. He’d read the little information they had on her before coming in. A financial adviser. Perhaps a poker face was an essential part of her role.

  ‘The post-mortem showed that your mother died from a massive coronary,’ Jarvis said, looking at the notes. ‘There w
as an indication that she had long-standing coronary artery disease.’ He looked up. ‘Were you aware of any issues?’

  Cara slowly shook her head. ‘No, but that’s not surprising. My mother was a very private woman, she didn’t like to discuss her health.’

  ‘But you didn’t see any signs? Breathlessness, maybe a bluish tinge to her lips?’

  ‘No, nothing like that. As far as I’m aware she was in good health for a woman of her years.’

  Jarvis looked back to his notes. ‘Were you aware her mobility was poor… that she found it difficult to walk more than a short distance?’

  ‘Did she?’ A note of boredom had crept into Cara’s voice again and she shuffled restlessly in her seat. ‘As I said, my mother didn’t discuss her health with me. I called around to see her for an hour or so every Sunday unless I was away and that was the sum total of our relationship. I would classify myself as a dutiful rather than a loving daughter if that makes sense.’

  Cold and self-obsessed was West’s opinion of her. The flash of a diamond on her ring finger caught his eye and reminded him briefly of Edel and the mystery of the missing engagement ring. The thought almost made him smile. If he were going to start looking at every episode in his life as though it were straight from an Agatha Christie novel he would be in serious trouble.

  ‘A dutiful daughter,’ Jarvis murmured before closing the file and looking at Cara Donaldson. ‘Tell me, did your mother have a will?’

  The question was blunt and made her frown. ‘Yes,’ she said, making a two-syllable word from the one.

  ‘Do you know the content?’

  This time her frown deepened and she didn’t answer, her eyes flicking from Jarvis’s face to West’s and back. ‘I understood I was asked to come in to discuss the results of the post-mortem,’ she said finally. ‘Suddenly, I’m wondering if it is standard operational procedure to be read my rights… perhaps I should simply leave.’ But she made no move to stand, the frown remaining as she looked from one to the other of the detectives again before finally fixing her blue eyes on West. ‘Right, why don’t you tell me what is going on?’