The Dublin Murder Mysteries: Books four to six

by Valerie Keogh

  West looked to Jarvis and nodded.

  ‘The initial assumption was that your mother became unwell,’ Jarvis said. ‘It was thought that, as a result, she was confused and took herself into that lane where she collapsed and died.’

  ‘From a heart attack, isn’t that what you said?’

  ‘Yes.’ Jarvis looked at her for a moment before speaking. ‘You said you visited your mother on Sunday. Is that correct?’

  Cara Donaldson weighed up the question as if looking for a catch. ‘Yes.’

  Jarvis tapped the file. ‘You see that’s where the problem lies… the state pathologist was quite emphatic… Muriel Hennessy died at least eight days before she was discovered in that laneway.’

  Cara jerked back as if the words had jabbed her with a clenched fist. It took a few seconds for her to recover enough to bark out, ‘Ridiculous!’

  ‘No. Fact. The heart attack was only one of the things the post-mortem revealed. The other was that your mother’s body was frozen and thawed before it was dumped in the laneway.’

  West found himself staring in fascination at the range of emotions that flickered across Cara Donaldson’s features. No longer poker-faced, shock was followed by horror and quickly by puzzlement that deepened her frown and furrowed her forehead.

  ‘I have no idea what is going on, but I definitely saw my mother on the Sunday before she was found. And Liam said he’d called to see her Friday evening. But now, to answer your original question, which suddenly seems the correct thing to do since I assume you’re searching for a motive for getting rid of her – my mother’s estate, such as it is, is left in equal shares to me and my brother.’ She held a hand up. ‘Don’t get too excited though, it’s not much. With my encouragement, she released the equity in her house several years ago – one of those wonderful schemes which paid under the odds for the house but allowed her to stay for her lifetime. My mother,’ she added, ‘liked to go away for expensive hotel breaks. She also, believe it or not, liked expensive wine. I don’t know how much is left but I doubt we’ll get more than twenty K each.’ She shrugged. ‘If, as I assume you will do, you look into my finances, you’ll see that I’m not in the need of any inheritance. I am not privy to my brother’s affairs and I know he’s had some trouble recently but he always struck me as being sensible about his finances.’

  So perhaps money wasn’t the motive. West pulled the file towards him, drawing Cara’s eyes back to him. ‘You said your relationship with your mother was dutiful rather than loving,’ he said. ‘Was she a difficult woman?’

  But Cara Donaldson wasn’t a fool. She got to her feet. ‘It looks to me as if you’re casting your nets trying to find a motive for my mother’s death so I think I’ll take myself off – unless you’re going to arrest me?’ She waited, staring at each of them in turn. ‘Before I go, let me make something very, very clear. I saw my mother on Sunday.

  ‘She was as irritating and downright feisty as ever but she was alive when I arrived and alive when I left. And that is all I’m going to say.’

  12

  ‘Well, that didn’t go too well,’ Jarvis said as the click-click of Cara Donaldson’s high heels on the tiled floor of the corridor faded into the distance.

  ‘What did you expect? That she’d fess up to killing her mother and stuffing her into a chest freezer?’

  Jarvis picked up the file and got to his feet. ‘I was hoping she’d look a little guilty or shifty but she didn’t.’

  West followed him from the room. ‘She’s a smart woman but this is early stages. You need to have patience. Let’s see how the interview with Liam Hennessy is going.’

  But when they opened the door into the observation room, they could see that the other interview room was empty. They found Andrews and Allen in the detective office, Andrews sitting at his desk, the younger man perched on the edge of it waving a hand around as he spoke.

  ‘How did it go?’ West asked, pulling a chair from behind another desk and sitting.

  ‘It didn’t.’ Allen shook his head sending a lock of red hair falling over his brow. He pushed it back roughly. ‘As soon as we mentioned reading him his rights, he reared back like a frightened mare and insisted on leaving with the stink of guilt following him like he’d trodden in a cowpat.’

  Mick Allen had left his family’s farm in Tipperary to join the gardaí but he spent most of his free time going back and his comparisons still tended to be farm-related. West had asked him once why he didn’t transfer nearer home and Allen had looked at him with a grin. ‘Not enough excitement there for me; plus I’d spend my time arresting my friends and neighbours. Me da wouldn’t like that.’

  ‘We fared a little better,’ Jarvis said, bracing a shoulder against the wall. He gave them a summary of their conversation with Cara Donaldson.

  ‘Did you believe her?’ Andrews asked.

  Jarvis looked at West and shrugged slightly. ‘She works in finance; she’s probably well used to parking her expression in neutral when she needs to but she looked shocked and puzzled when we told her. Bottom line is, she says her mother was alive on Sunday and we know that isn’t possible.’ He looked again to West, this time for confirmation.

  ‘Dr Kennedy said eight days at least to freeze and defrost Muriel Hennessy’s body. If Cara Donaldson saw her on Sunday, that only leaves five days before the mother was found on the Friday. It simply doesn’t add up.’ West looked around the room. ‘Right, let’s look for a motive. Check out Mrs Donaldson’s claim that the house had been sold under equity release and her assertion that she wasn’t in need of any inheritance. Same for Liam Hennessy. I want to know everything there is to know about them.’

  ‘The keys to Muriel Hennessy’s house were sent to the mortuary,’ Jarvis said. ‘Someone’s dropping them in this evening. As soon as I have them, I’ll call and see if there’s a chest freezer in her house.’

  ‘Okay.’ West frowned. ‘I’ll speak to a judge, see if we have enough to get a warrant to search both Cara Donaldson’s and Liam Hennessy’s houses.’

  ‘Maybe they’re both lying about having seen their mother,’ Andrews said. ‘You know, they were both supposed to, neither did and they felt too guilty to admit that they hadn’t. That would mean the woman hadn’t been seen for almost two weeks.’

  ‘There didn’t seem to be much love lost between brother and sister,’ Jarvis said. ‘Maybe you’re right, that it was a case of one-upmanship. Both wanted to appear to be the dutiful child, but in fact neither was.’

  People lied for such a wide variety of reasons, nothing surprised them anymore. ‘You could be right,’ Baxter said, ‘but we’re still down to why anyone would want to freeze the old dear.’

  ‘Let’s concentrate on the son and daughter before we start looking at random people,’ West said, getting to his feet. ‘Jarvis, check out the house tomorrow. If you find a chest freezer, get the garda technical team out from Shankill to take samples. Meanwhile, I’ll see if we have enough probable cause to get that warrant.’ He looked around the eager faces. ‘Tomorrow. But for now, let’s get out of here.’

  13

  West was relieved to see that Edel was wearing her engagement ring when he arrived home that evening. He’d been fussing about nothing.

  ‘How’s the writing going?’ he asked as they sat over dinner.

  ‘Good,’ she said. ‘Some days it almost seems to write itself and this was one of them.’

  ‘I wish my cases were like that.’

  ‘You’ve gone and got yourself another complicated one, have you?’

  He looked at her with a smile. ‘Kind of.’ He filled her in on the siblings and their assertion that they’d seen their mother alive when she couldn’t have been. ‘She’d have been, as Niall Kennedy so elegantly put it, “frozen-turkey frozen”.’

  Edel spluttered on the water she was drinking. ‘Honestly, he does come out with some dreadful things. So, what are you going to do?’

  ‘The usual,’ he said. He waited, wondering
if she’d repeat her comment about digging for dirt. It was exactly what he was going to do. The thought made him sigh.

  ‘Find out who is lying and why?’

  It was a nicer way of putting it, even if it meant the same thing. ‘We can’t argue with the science. Only a complete freeze of the body would have resulted in the cellular damage, according to Niall, and that would take two to three days. There was some tissue damage that showed the body was defrosted a bit faster than it should have been. He estimated eight days in total. Which would have meant her dying on the previous Thursday.’

  ‘So, the son and daughter could both have been lying.’

  ‘Yes. Peter could be right, of course.’

  ‘Peter often is,’ she said, ‘but what is he right about this time?’

  West put his knife and fork down and sat back with his arms folded. ‘They were supposed to visit her every week to keep an eye on her, check if she needed anything. Cara visited on Sunday, her brother on a weekday after work. Pete suggested that they were lying about having visited her.’

  ‘Yes,’ she nodded, understanding the thinking, ‘and then were too embarrassed to say they hadn’t bothered. I could see that, okay. So that would mean she hadn’t been seen for about almost two weeks before she died.’

  West said nothing for a moment, mulling over the idea that both son and daughter lied about visiting their mother. ‘Muriel Hennessy had coronary heart disease and her death would have been put down to that if Jarvis hadn’t read her medical file and queried how she managed to get to where she was found.’

  ‘It’s down to a chicken and egg scenario,’ Edel said. She smiled at his raised eyebrow. ‘You know – which came first? Did the woman die from a heart attack and was then, for some unknown reason, frozen, or did her darling son and daughter try to bump her off by throwing her into a freezer where she had a heart attack and died.’

  They discussed the case as they cleared away.

  ‘It’s a puzzle,’ Edel said, curling up on the sofa while West switched on the TV. ‘I really can’t see any reason for the siblings to lie.’

  ‘But lie they did,’ he said, putting an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close. ‘Hopefully, tomorrow, we’ll find out why.’

  It was always good to be optimistic but by mid-morning the following day, they were no closer to finding a reason for anyone to have frozen the body of Muriel Hennessy.

  Jarvis returned from her house and stood in the doorway of West’s office. ‘No joy, I’m afraid. All she had was a small fridge-freezer, nothing else. I checked the garage, just in case but nothing.’

  ‘Right,’ West said, running a hand over his head. ‘We’ll have the warrants to search for a freezer in Cara Donaldson’s and Liam Hennessy’s houses by late afternoon. Both work nine-to-five jobs. We’ll call about 6.30: that should catch them home. You and I will stick with the lovely Cara and I’ll get Andrews and Allen to call to her brother.’

  ‘I’ll give the garda technical team in Shankill a heads-up,’ Jarvis said. ‘They can come if we need them.’ He took a step into the room and waved a tatty, worn book. ‘I brought back the old lady’s phone book. I thought I’d contact a few of her friends, see if I can get a feel for the relationship between Mrs Hennessy and her kids from that.’

  ‘Good idea. Family friction is often enough of a motive for murder.’

  As Jarvis took himself back to his desk, Baxter walked in with an expression on his face that told West he should be pleased to see him. Baxter sat, balanced his ankle on his knee and stared across the desk. Had Andrews been there he would have made a sarcastic remark about Baxter behaving like a diva and told him to get on with it. West had a smidgeon more patience. ‘Well?’

  ‘Our friend Darragh Checkley likes to play the big I am, but more importantly, he likes to play the stock market.’

  ‘He’s broke?’

  ‘Hasn’t, according to my very reliable source, got two brass farthings to rub together.’

  West knew where Checkley lived. A large, detached house on Brennanstown Road in Carrickmines. ‘What about his house?’

  ‘Mortgaged to the hilt and they’re behind in repayments.’

  ‘Doris Whitaker’s death works in their favour then, doesn’t it?’

  ‘It sure does. I spoke to a friend who works for an estate agent. He said her house would be worth at least five million because of the long road frontage. There’s room, according to him, to build at least three large houses on the site.’

  Five million would go a long way to paying off debts. ‘Probably why Checkley was treating himself to an expensive Rolex at the weekend. Spending his inheritance. I think we need to pay our friend a visit, Seamus.’

  ‘He works nine-to-five, but she should be at home.’

  ‘Maybe that would work in our favour,’ West said. ‘We need to look at her car.’ He chewed his lip for a second. ‘It might be too late but ask one of the garda technical team to meet us there. We might get lucky.’

  An hour later, they were pulling into the driveway of a large, detached house. It was modern, boxy, and not to West’s taste even if he could afford the couple of million it would take to buy it.

  ‘I prefer our house in Gorey,’ Seamus said, getting out of the car and looking around.

  West had been to his three-bedded semi at a house-warming/engagement party a couple of weeks before. His fiancée, Tanya, had made the house into a warm, comfortable home. ‘So do I,’ he said, walking up to the front door. A standard bay tree stood each side. Nice, West thought, reaching automatically to touch the nearest one, surprised to find it was fake. A bit like Darragh Checkley’s bravado. He pushed the doorbell and stepped back.

  A minute later, Lynda Checkley opened the door. Recognition was instant, surprise in her widened eyes before her expression turned carefully neutral. ‘Detective Garda Sergeant West, isn’t it?’

  ‘That’s right, and this is my colleague, Detective Garda Baxter. We have a few questions for you, would you mind if we came in?’

  She lifted her wrist and stared at her watch with a frown. ‘I have a meeting soon that I can’t miss. You really should have called. Perhaps, tomorrow.’

  ‘It will only take a moment,’ West said, his voice firm. ‘I’d hate to have to make it official and ask you to come to the station instead.’

  This brought a flush of angry colour to her face. ‘This sounds like police intimidation to me,’ she said. ‘I will remind you, since it appears to have slipped your mind, that we’re in mourning for Darragh’s cousin.’

  Lynda had been tearful and distressed during her visit to the station. Now she was spiky and brittle. Had her distress been a calculated act? ‘Actually, it’s the reason we’re here. We have a few questions to ask about her death.’

  The angry flush faded, leaving Lynda paler than before. She was obviously weighing up her choices, then with a huff, she waved them inside.

  14

  Inside the house, it was obvious no expense had been spared. Lynda Checkley led them into a spacious and very elegant sitting room where accessories in varying shades of jade brightened a pale-grey colour scheme. Two charcoal-grey sofas faced each other across an overly large coffee table.

  It was all very elegant but cold. Just like the woman who dropped casually onto one of the sofas. She rested an elbow on the back and linked her diamond-bedecked fingers together, a study in posed relaxation.

  West and Baxter sat on the sofa that faced her.

  ‘Were you close to your husband’s cousin?’ West asked her.

  Lynda tilted her head to one side. ‘Define “close”?’ She pointedly looked at her watch.

  West leaned back on the sofa and crossed his legs. ‘We will finish with more speed if you answer the questions we ask without playing games, Mrs Checkley.’

  ‘Fine,’ she snapped. ‘No, I wasn’t particularly close to her. We got on okay, and I quite liked her but that’s about it.’

  ‘But you did visit her every week?�
�

  Lynda dropped her studied pose and sat up straight. ‘Only because I had to. Darragh wanted to keep her sweet and he didn’t have time to call around. Not that she’d have welcomed a visit from him, anyway. She wasn’t overly keen on men.’ She raised her hands and dropped them into her lap. ‘So, I called around to keep the peace. Did any bit of shopping she needed, had a cup of tea or coffee with her and then escaped. Thirty minutes max, once a week.’

  ‘Tell me about the day you found her.’

  Her sigh was loudly exaggerated as was the lift of her hand as she checked her watch once again. ‘I gave my statement to the garda who was at the scene and later I wrote it down.’

  ‘You were no doubt distraught at the scene and the statement, I gather, was written the same day while you were still distressed. Sometimes, time and reflection allow a different take on what happened.’

  She eyed him with dislike. ‘Fine, I’ll go over what happened again.’

  And she did, giving an almost word-for-word account of what happened the day she found Doris Whitaker lying on the side of the road. West met Baxter’s sharp eyes and knew he was thinking the same.

  ‘And you recognised her immediately?’

  ‘Not immediately,’ Lynda said. ‘At first I thought it was rubbish on the side of the road. It was only when I drew near that the colour caught my eye. The coat she was wearing, one she was fond of and wore frequently, was a particularly vivid shade of blue. Recognition hit me then so I stopped the car in the middle of the road and rushed over.’ She shut her eyes and held her hand over her mouth for a dramatic few seconds. ‘You hope that it’s not true, that it can’t possibly be… but, of course, it was.’

  ‘The gardaí who responded, stated that you had moved the body.’

  ‘It was an automatic reaction to gather her into my arms and offer what comfort I could. Honestly, I was in shock and wasn’t really aware of what I was doing.’