The Silent Speak

by Val Collins

  ‘So, what’s the first thing we do?’ Lisa asked.

  There was an energy to her voice that Aoife hadn’t heard before. She took in Lisa’s shining hair and the carefully applied make-up. ‘You look very different.’

  Lisa smiled. ‘When I told Mum you would investigate the murder, she was so relieved we went into town to celebrate. We had lunch in Café en Seine and afterwards we had massages and got our hair done. It was the happiest I’ve seen her since everything went haywire.’

  ‘I’m glad you had a good day.’

  ‘Yes, well, you have to grab a bit of peace wherever you can find it. Tell me, Aoife, what can I do to help?’

  ‘I got your list of the people in Shane’s life. I think it’s best to start with those Shane had most contact with and work my way down, but first I wanted to ask you something. Is it possible Shane had some connection with organised crime?’

  ‘No, of course not!’

  ‘Could he have had a gambling problem?’

  ‘Absolutely not.’

  ‘How can you be sure?’

  ‘Now his family are gone, my mother is his next of kin. I’ve been handling the paperwork. He had a mortgage on the house and two years left on a car loan, but he had no other debts.’

  ‘You won’t find any paper records for the kind of debts that would get your family murdered.’

  ‘Shane wasn’t a gambler, Aoife. I’m certain of it.’

  Aoife put an asterisk beside the word ‘gambling’. Something to follow up with Derek.

  ‘Okay, Lisa. The people who saw the most of Shane were your uncle that he worked for and your cousin Keith. Can you arrange for me to meet them?’

  Lisa hesitated, then took out her phone. ‘Hi, Angela, does my uncle have many appointments this morning?’ She waited. ‘Eleven-thirty sounds great.’

  *

  Lisa’s uncle Eamonn was a small man, teetering on the edge of obesity. Having offered them tea or coffee, he started by saying, ‘I don’t entirely agree with my niece. I’ve known Shane all his life and he was the last person in the world I would have believed capable of such a terrible act, but I can’t imagine anybody else would want to kill the family either.’

  Aoife turned to a new page on her notebook. ‘Can you tell me something about Shane’s role in your organisation?’

  ‘He was my top sales person.’

  ‘Your sales manager?’

  ‘No, that’s my son, Keith.’

  ‘Was Shane capable of taking on a management role?’

  ‘Oh yes, the customers loved him. We all did. And he would have made a good manager. He mentored most of the new sales staff and he really brought out the best in them. Many of them became our top performers.’

  ‘If Shane was capable of management, why did he work for a company where he could never fill a management role?’

  Eamonn shifted in his seat and glanced at Lisa. ‘Is this relevant?’

  ‘Maybe not, but I have to start somewhere. I need to get a picture of Shane’s life; what his financial situation was like, did he have any enemies, that kind of thing.’

  ‘He didn’t have any enemies that I know of, and he was on good money, so I doubt he had debts.’

  ‘How come he never moved to a company with promotional opportunities?’

  ‘He—I suppose it doesn’t make much difference now’—Eamonn looked at Lisa—‘but this has to stay between us.’

  Lisa nodded.

  ‘A few years ago, Shane was offered the position of sales manager with a rival firm.’

  ‘He never mentioned it to me,’ Lisa said.

  ‘I asked him not to tell anybody. We came to an agreement. I told Shane I couldn’t make him a sales manager but I’d give him the title of senior sales consultant and he would report directly to me. I also agreed he would have the same salary and bonus package as Keith.’

  ‘I take it your son is unaware of this arrangement.’

  ‘Yes, and I want it to stay that way.’

  ‘It wasn’t a long-term solution, though, was it? You must have known Shane would move on eventually.’

  Eamonn glanced at the door and lowered his voice. ‘I promised Shane that, on my death, he and Keith would be joint owners of the business.’

  TEN

  Aoife drove down the road in a daze. Her very first interview and she’d found the killer already? Things like that didn’t happen in real life. They didn’t even happen that often in fiction.

  ‘Are you as shocked as I am?’ she said at last.

  ‘Huh? Sorry, Aoife, I was miles away. What did you say?’

  ‘I said I’m shocked that we have a suspect after just one interview.’

  ‘My uncle!’

  ‘No, Keith. You said he wasn’t a nice guy. Now we know he had a motive for killing Shane.’

  ‘He might have a motive, but he didn’t kill Shane. He’s the sneaky, underhand sort. I know he tried to turn my uncle against Shane, and there’s nothing he wanted more than to get Shane out of the company, but slitting someone’s throat? He wouldn’t have the stomach for it. And what possible reason could he have for murdering Shane’s family? They were part of his family too.’

  ‘Jealousy, fury? Maybe he regretted it afterwards but it was too late. You need to make an appointment for me to interview him.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Lisa picked at a chipped fingernail.

  ‘Lisa?’

  ‘Look, I know I promised you everybody in the family would speak to you, and I’m working on that, but at the moment Keith’s refusing to be involved.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘His exact response was, “You are completely insane and I don’t have time to waste on this nonsense”.’

  ‘Are those the words of an innocent man?’

  ‘Probably. They’re also the words of a selfish, inconsiderate bastard.’

  ‘Okay, suppose you’re right and Keith isn’t the murderer. Who else is there?’

  Lisa shook her head. ‘I wish I knew.’

  *

  Conor and Blaine came for dinner as usual that evening. Aoife was determined to keep Blaine out of the house as much as possible.

  ‘There’s no need to help me, Conor. Dinner is almost ready.’

  ‘If you’re sure. Hey, Blaine! Do you want to practice your pucks?’

  Ever since Blaine had learned his father had once played in the All Ireland Junior Hurling Final, he had become obsessed with the game. There were no GAA clubs near his home in England, so he and Conor practised every day during Blaine’s visits.

  Aoife watched them for a few minutes. She returned to the kitchen, relieved that for a short period she didn’t have to worry what Blaine was up to. Once the dinner was finished, Aoife was on full alert and followed Blaine every time he left the room.

  ‘Are you alright?’ Conor asked.

  ‘Yes, why?’

  ‘You’re very on edge. You haven’t sat down for more than a few minutes all evening.’

  ‘I’ve been sitting down the whole day. I’m dying for some exercise.’ She jumped up. ‘Come on! Blaine hasn’t been here in the summer before. It’s time he saw the Curragh at its best.’

  They walked for two hours and Aoife quite enjoyed the evening. Blaine had put Amy on his shoulders. Amy was thrilled to have found a new horsie, a role usually fulfilled by Conor. She insisted Blaine gallop up and down the fields. It almost felt like Aoife and Conor were alone at last.

  ‘Blaine is settling in now, isn’t he?’ Conor said.

  Aoife couldn’t bring herself to point out that Blaine was playing Amy’s game mostly so he could have as little interaction with Aoife as possible.

  ‘I hope so,’ she said and changed the subject.

  When Conor and Blaine left, Aoife checked every room in the house. Nothing was missing.

  ELEVEN

  The following morning, Aoife woke up before her alarm and stretched out in the bed. It was amazing how relaxed she felt, knowing she wasn’t in for any nasty surprises fo
r once.

  The little bubble of happiness banished any worries she had about her first official meeting with Derek. It was true they didn’t know each other well and Derek obviously distrusted reporters, but she was Jenny’s friend and Derek had great faith in Jenny’s judgement. If she could just get him to relax, he could be a mine of information.

  The bubble burst when she was left in the waiting room for over fifteen minutes. When Derek arrived, he offered his hand but did not smile or apologise for keeping her waiting. Was this what he was normally like at work? In comparison, the Derek at the function had been positively jolly.

  Aoife had often seen movies where the police were called away urgently mid-meeting and the investigator had the opportunity to look through confidential files. If such things happened in reality, there was no chance it would happen today. Derek had taken her to a meeting room where the only furnishings were a metal table with unsteady legs and two uncomfortable chairs. The room smelled old and damp and the light green paint had an institutional sheen.

  Derek opened a thin manila folder and removed a single typed sheet. In a robotic voice, he began, ‘The 999 helpline received a phone call on—’

  ‘Derek, would it be okay if I asked you some questions?’

  Looking a little put out, Derek closed his folder. ‘Please go ahead.’

  ‘First, can you be certain the murderer wasn’t a stranger?’

  Derek considered her question, then replied, ‘Yes.’

  ‘Can you elaborate?’

  ‘I understand Detective Inspector Moloney explained why we believe Grogan murdered his family. All I can add is that if there was a homicidal maniac wandering the country murdering families, we would have heard about it by now.’

  ‘Is it possible Shane Grogan had a gambling problem and the murders were retaliation for unpaid debts?’

  Derek opened the file again and scribbled a note. Was he writing down her questions?

  ‘I can neither confirm nor deny any possible lines of enquiry.’

  ‘Have you interviewed Shane’s cousin, Keith?’

  More scribbling. ‘I can neither confirm nor deny any questions regarding possible witnesses or suspects.’

  ‘Are you aware that Shane’s uncle promised to make Shane a part owner in his company and that he kept this information secret from Keith?’

  Derek looked up. ‘He—I can neither confirm nor deny any possible lines of enquiry.’

  His face coloured at the realisation that Aoife had registered his surprise.

  ‘Have you spoken to the members of Fiona’s book club?’

  He was writing again. ‘I can neither confirm nor deny any questions regarding possible witnesses or suspects.’

  This was getting her nowhere. Maybe Derek would relax if they could talk in a more informal setting. Closing her notebook, she said, ‘Thank you for your help, Derek. Are you planning to get a bite to eat? I’m starving.’

  ‘I brought in my lunch. I’ll be eating it at my desk.’

  ‘You’d be doing me a favour by keeping me company. You can eat your sandwich any time.’

  ‘Jenny always gives me a full lunch. All I have to do is put it in the microwave.’

  ‘Lucky you. Well, I’m starving, so I have to get out of here. Thanks for your time, Derek.’

  What was she going to do now? Would Jenny put in a good word for her?

  f

  Aoife felt quite dejected as she headed for her car. She’d travelled all the way to Dublin for her meeting with Derek, and it had been a complete waste of time. She’d achieved absolutely nothing. Whatever had given her the idea she could be a successful journalist? Didn’t all journalists worth their salt have police sources they could rely on?

  Her humour lifted when she got a text from Ruth. For the last two weeks, Aoife had been attempting to set up an interview with Ruth. It had taken several days before Ruth had even returned her call. Then she had come up with multiple excuses why she couldn’t possibly meet on any of Aoife’s suggested dates. Finally, Aoife agreed to meet her anywhere at any time of the day or night. Ruth had promised to get in touch. Aoife had waited a few days, then followed up with a text. Two days later, she’d sent another text, repeating her willingness to meet Ruth any time, any place. Just as Aoife was beginning to believe this whole investigation was a waste of time, Ruth replied to her text. She would meet Aoife the following morning.

  Her enthusiasm renewed, Aoife decided it was time to talk to Keith. Lisa had told her that Keith’s wife was sick, so he would have to do the school run all week. Aoife arrived at the school fifteen minutes before classes ended. A group of parents stood outside the gates chatting. Several sat waiting in their cars. Aoife searched for the licence plate Lisa had given her. As she walked by, she deliberately stumbled and fell against the driver’s window. A startled Keith looked up from his phone.

  ‘Sorry,’ Aoife mouthed. She took one step and stumbled again, banging against the back passenger window.

  Keith got out of the car. He was about average height, taller than his father but almost as broad and already carrying more weight than was healthy for a man of his age. He looked at Aoife suspiciously and sniffed the air.

  ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m not feeling too well.’ Aoife clutched her stomach. ‘I guess this little one wants to make his presence known.’ She grabbed the roof of the car as if to steady herself. ‘Would you mind if I sat down for just a minute?’

  Keith looked around. A few of the mothers were watching them curiously. He opened the back passenger door. Aoife made a big production of sitting down. She sighed. ‘Thank you so much.’ She put her head between her knees.

  Keith stood on the pavement, one hand on the open door.

  Aoife sat back against the seat. ‘This is much better. Thank you.’

  Keith nodded.

  ‘Are you waiting for your children?’

  ‘Yes. Are you?’

  ‘I’m collecting my daughter. What class are your kids in?’

  Keith talked about his kids, their classes and their teachers. Aoife nodded and feigned interest.

  ‘I love your car. It’s so comfortable. I’ve always wanted a BMW.’

  Keith patted the roof. ‘This is my baby.’

  ‘My husband just started in a sales job and I thought all salesmen were given great cars, but Don’s car is a Renault and it’s six years old. I was shocked.’

  ‘He should move to a larger company. Most companies lease their cars, so it’s no trouble to change them every year. This is a company car. Not all our cars are quite this good, but they are all new.’

  ‘Do they have any sales vacancies?’

  ‘Not right now. It’s my family company, actually, which is why my car is a little better than the norm. We might have a vacancy in a few months. We are one salesperson down and my father wants to recruit a replacement, but I don’t think it’s the right time.’

  ‘You’re obviously the one in charge, then, as the position isn’t advertised yet.’

  Keith smiled. ‘I wouldn’t go that far. The company will be mine someday.’ He frowned.

  ‘You don’t look too happy at the prospect.’

  ‘Oh, I am. I’ve given my entire life to our business. I was just thinking how close I came to losing it.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘Oh nothing. Families, you know how it is. At one stage there were other members of the family interested in my job, but they’ve lost interest now and it’s just me and my father.’

  *

  ‘How did you get out of there?’

  ‘I said I was feeling better. Then the kids came piling out of the school and I pretended one of them was mine. I stopped a little girl and asked her what class she was in and Keith drove past while we were speaking. The important thing, Lisa, is Keith made it clear he knew about his father’s will.’

  ‘He actually said Shane was in my uncle’s will?’

  ‘Not exactly, but he made it clear he f
elt his position in the company was threatened by a member of the family and that he believes the family member is no longer a threat.’

  ‘I could see him arguing with Shane. I could see him punching him. I don’t see him killing Shane’s entire family.’

  ‘There are only two possible reasons the family was murdered in that dreadful way. One is as a warning to others if, for example, organised crime was involved. The other is anger. You would have to be pretty furious to do something so vicious. Does Keith have anger issues?’

  ‘He’s always had a temper, but that wasn’t mere temper, Aoife. That was sheer lunacy.’

  TWELVE

  Aoife had arranged to take a day’s holidays from work. Maura had happily agreed to collect Amy from kindergarten so Aoife could spend the entire day in Dublin. After her meeting with Ruth, she would have lunch with Orla and the afternoon would be spent interviewing the three members of the book club who had agreed to meet her at short notice.

  There was no easy way to get to Rathmines by public transport, so Aoife had to brave the rush-hour traffic. As she inched along the crowded streets, Aoife thought about her relationship with Blaine. She couldn’t insist they go for a walk every day, and could she really watch Blaine every minute he was in her house? Conor had full run of the house and Aoife had encouraged Blaine to treat it as his home. It was too late to change her approach now.

  At long last, Aoife reached Rathmines. She hadn’t been there in years, but she remembered it well. Traditionally known as ‘flat land’, ever since the 1930s it had been the place where most young people started their lives in Dublin. At all hours of the day and night, the streets had been crammed with young people milling around. Within walking distance of the city centre, it was a handy first stop for students and young people up from the country for their first job. Most moved on after a few years, but for generations, there had been a constant influx of young people to fill the tiny bedsits and two-bedroom flats that were jammed into the crumbling Victorian mansions. Aoife and Orla had often visited the area when they were teenagers. They had loved the energy and youthful vibe and enjoyed checking out the local shops where everything was sold in the smallest quantities imaginable. It was even possible to buy a single egg.