That part was kind of a hodgepodge of additions and sheds and even a small stand-alone building up behind, which someone had told her had once housed a butcher’s shop. It was a bit hard to imagine, but she’d seen stranger things since she’d arrived. There was a corner at the back, with a low stone wall perpendicular to it, which must have been where Tim said he and Aidan had met. Could someone have seen them together? She looked around her. The new addition where she sat had a great view, but it would’ve been long closed by that time of night. There was line of sight from the northbound road that ran along the narrow river, but it was hard to imagine anyone looking for people behind a building, especially after dark: it was a tricky curve with a stop sign at the end of it, and drivers had to pay attention. There was nothing up the hill except trees. So who could’ve seen Tim and Aidan?
Someone who had been following Aidan—that was the only real possibility. He could have been lurking outside Sullivan’s, although someone would have noticed a stranger hanging around where he shouldn’t have been. As Mick had said earlier, people looked out for each other here. Or the man could have been in Sullivan’s, blending with the crowd. But wouldn’t Aidan have noticed him? Unless Aidan hadn’t known him, Maura reminded herself. Maybe he’d been a stranger, who knew Aidan wouldn’t recognize him. But at least two hundred people had passed through Sullivan’s over the course of the evening, and there was no way to identify all of them.
Which left her nowhere. How had Aidan come by that much money at all? From all she’d heard, he’d been barely scraping by. Niall would’ve mentioned something by now if he’d made him a big loan. So why would someone have followed Aidan to Leap? She could think of only one answer: the money wasn’t Aidan’s. And it might not have belonged to the other man either; he might have been sent to collect it and to bring it back to . . . who? Maybe the guy hadn’t known about Aidan’s weak heart, and his threat had been enough to bring on the fatal heart attack. Which had left him with a body but without the money he really wanted to find. The unknown man had been desperate enough to break into Sullivan’s looking for the money—money that she and Sean had already found—then go after Tim, and then Tim’s car, and he would probably go after Niall’s as well, except that was protected in an upscale garage in the next town.
Would the man try again? Or would he give up the search and go slinking back to wherever he had come from?
Maura looked down to discover she’d finished her meal while she was thinking. She needed to get back to the pub, where it promised to be another busy night. At least now she had some more questions to ask Sean if he came by later. She gathered up her trash and headed back to Sullivan’s. Inside, the noise level had ratcheted up a notch. Niall was still at the bar, holding court for his admirers. He might claim he was out of the game now, but it sure looked to Maura like he was enjoying the attention. She waded through the crowd to join Rose behind the bar, nodding to Niall along the way. “How’re you doing, Rose?”
“I’m grand. Isn’t this wonderful? Do yeh mind if we open up the back for the overflow? If any more come in, the walls may start bulging out.”
Maura thought for a moment. “I think the gardaí have done all they want to do back there,” she said. She was pretty sure there was nothing more hidden after being thoroughly searched by more than one person, and the gardaí couldn’t object. “Sure, why not? It’s a bit cold, but a few bodies should take care of that fast. I never thought we’d need to use that room.”
“Yeh do now,” Rose said, her eyes on the row of pints lined up in front of her.
Maura filled a few more orders, then asked Rose, “Why are you enjoying it so much, Rose? I mean, you’re too young to remember all these old guys. Is it just because it’s busier here than usual?”
“Sure and I know their names and the songs, don’t I? And Tim’s been filling me in on the history. I never knew this place was so famous!”
Maura laughed. “Me either. What’s your dad say about it?”
“We haven’t talked much, but he seems to be havin’ a wonderful time talking with all the musicians.”
Maura handed over the pints Rose had poured before asking, “Will Tim be going on with his research?”
“Seems like,” Rose replied. “I told him this was something special, that it might never happen again and he’d be an eejit to waste what he’s got. Maybe he can find someone to publish it or he could go on the radio with the story.”
Tim must have cheered up at that, even if it was only Rose’s wishful thinking, Maura thought. It helped having Rose to spur him on.
It was near closing time when Maura saw Sean come in, out of uniform. Rose had gone home a couple of hours earlier, but Maura, Jimmy, and Mick had been kept busy by the shifting crowd. To Maura’s surprise, Niall had stayed for most of the evening. As he was packing up to go, he had snagged Maura. “I need to talk with yeh about something. Do yeh have a minute?”
Maura had a pretty good idea what he might want to talk about. “Sure. Do you want to go into the back? It’s emptied out now.”
“It’s not a secret thing, or won’t be fer long, but I thought it might be only fair to ask you.”
“Okay,” Maura said. She led him to the back room, now empty of patrons, shadowy, and dim. “What is it?”
“The boys and me, we were thinkin’ of wakin’ Aidan, and we’d like to do it here on Saturday, if yer willin’.”
She’d guessed right. “I think that’s a great idea. What would you need?”
Niall smiled, and Maura caught a flash of what kind of appeal he must have had when he was a star. “This space, fer starters. And a glass to drink his health. I can do the rest. Thank you, Maura Donovan. Fer bringin’ this place back and bringin’ us all together once again. It’s been too long.”
Maura didn’t know what to say. It seemed wrong to claim that the whole thing had just kind of happened and she’d gone with the flow. “I’m glad I was part of it—it really was special.”
He smiled. “It was that. So we’re on for Saturday night, fer the wake? We’ll talk before then.” And he turned and was gone.
Maura followed him out more slowly, strangely moved by what Niall had said. And by what he wanted to do for Aidan. The front room had cleared out while they had been talking, and Sean was one of the few left. When he saw Maura, he nodded back toward the back room, and Mick was quick to notice. “We’ll close up out here, if you two need to talk,” Mick said.
“Thanks, Mick. See you tomorrow.”
Maura led the way to the back room once again, followed by Sean. Almost by reflex Maura collected the empty glasses scattered around, placing them together on the bar to wash in the morning. Then she joined Sean at a table against the back wall. “What’s up?”
“I haven’t much to add. Still no family for Aidan, and the coroner’s ready to release the body, but there’s no one to release it to.”
Maura hadn’t even considered that. “If you don’t find anyone, where does he go?”
“In the normal course of things, he’d be cremated and the ashes held in case someone comes forward. But we’re not there yet.”
“Sean, there might be a better idea.” Maura hesitated, trying to sort out her thoughts. “Maybe you saw Niall leaving just now. He asked if he and his friends could hold a wake for Aidan here on Saturday night. They might be able to scrape up enough to bury him properly.”
“It’s kind of Niall, and if someone could put it to him that Aidan needs buryin’ . . .”
“Someone like me, you mean?” Maura smiled.
Sean smiled back. “Could be,” he said. “You two seem to be close these days.”
“Yeah, right—me and the rock star! But at least he asked me nicely. Anyway, I was thinking about the guy who broke in here, who I’m guessing is the same guy who attacked Tim and who scared Aidan to death.”
“Go on,” Sean said.
Maura outlined her thoughts for him about the guy who was looking for Aidan’s money.
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br /> Sean was following closely. “Yer worried the man won’t give up? So what’re yeh thinkin’?”
“That the guy is just a thug who reports to someone else, so it’s not his decision to make. Look, I grew up in a city that had its share of creepy characters and violence, so I’m not stupid. But I don’t know how things work around here. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but what can you tell me about gangs and drugs in Cork?”
“How long’ve yeh got?” Sean parried.
“Just the short form, please. I’m not planning to go into the business,” Maura said. When Sean looked bewildered, she added, “Joke!”
“Right so,” Sean said. “Why do yeh bring it up at all?”
“I’m wondering if that money of Aidan’s was related to drugs somehow. It’s the only reason I can think of for why he was carrying so much cash.”
Sean stared at her, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement. “Yer sure yeh don’t want to join the gardaí? Because I think we’re on the same page with this. I won’t try to tell yeh there are no gangs nor drug distributors in Ireland, or even in County Cork. There’s problems in the cities, like Dublin, of course, and Limerick. But the gangs of Cork city try to keep a low profile so as to keep the gardaí out of the mix. That may be balanced by the fact that so much of the coast in West Cork is poorly patrolled, so smugglers can get away with a lot. A lot passes through the county, if you get my meaning.”
“What kind of smuggling?” Maura asked.
“Cannabis and cocaine, is what. A lot of it. We try to stay on top of it, but yeh know how few officers we have.”
“Do you think it’s a big problem?”
“It’s a problem everywhere, but this part of the country is more a conduit than a market. Which is not to say that there aren’t users hereabouts. Have yeh seen anyone who yeh’d suspect?”
Maura laughed. “Heck, no. You know how few customers we usually have—before this past week. We know most of the regulars. If somebody was trying to deal, we’d notice.”
“That’s good to know,” Sean said thoughtfully. “Trouble is, there’s been a lot of strangers in town for this music thing of yours, and if word went out to the musicians, the dealers could have heard as well, maybe seen an opportunity.”
“That sucks,” Maura said. She thought of asking Niall if he knew anything about drugs. But she didn’t want to insult him, and she didn’t want to prompt Sean to ask the same kind of question. “Well, all I can say is that I haven’t seen anyone who looks like a shifty drug dealer, this weekend or after, but I haven’t seen a lot of Irish ones, so I can’t really be sure.”
“Would yeh know a Boston one?”
“I might. You had to know who to stay away from back there. Remember, I grew up in Whitey Bulger’s backyard.” When Sean looked blankly at her, Maura explained, “Big South Boston crime boss? Had quite a few people killed? Hid in plain sight for years? Oh, never mind. But he was from an Irish family, you know, and so were quite a few of the people he ran with.”
They fell silent for a moment, chewing over their own thoughts. It was Sean who stood up first. “You’ve given me something to think about, Maura. I’ll ask around at the station, maybe check with the Cork city gardaí. Be careful, will yeh?”
“I know, I know. Keep my eyes open, don’t take any chances. I certainly don’t want to see anyone get hurt.” Anyone else, she corrected herself.
At the door Sean turned. “About that show—does a week Wednesday suit?”
“Oh, right, the comedian. Sure, that’ll work. Thanks for asking me, Sean.”
“I’ll be after gettin’ tickets, then. Safe home, Maura.”
Maura followed Sean out of the back room and saw Mick leaving with a backward wave. She went around turning off the last lights. Much as she hated to admit it, she was nervous. Drug dealers, here? Maybe in the six months she’d spent in Ireland she’d let her guard down, but in the time she’d been running the pub she’d seen only a handful of drunks and nobody she suspected of taking drugs. Smugglers along the coast made sense, but she hoped the deliveries kept right on going to Cork city or Dublin or even England without stopping in Leap.
She realized that she was happily ignorant of the state of crime in County Cork—and that had been her choice. Back in Southie, she’d grown up with the stories of Whitey Bulger and his gang. Violence had been a regular part of her life there, and she’d learned how to avoid it, mostly by keeping her head down and trying to stay invisible. Apparently she’d hoped that Ireland was different—cleaner, more innocent, more peaceful. But cities were cities. If Aidan had been involved with something illegal in Cork city, the trouble could well have followed him to her tiny village here. She was going to have to get her head out of the sand and find out what it was.
She was glad to see that someone had fixed the side door, even if it was really only for show. She’d worry about fixing the cash drawer tomorrow. She locked all the doors carefully and headed for home.
Chapter 24
Maura spent another restless night. After growing up in a city, in a neighborhood that boasted its share of shady characters and a few outright criminals, it had taken her a while to get used to living in a small cottage on a hill in West Cork. It was dark at night; it was quiet, except for the occasional complaint from a cow or sheep. She still fought the need to lock the door every time she left, although she had nothing to steal and there were few people around anyway. Plus she had a friend on the police force. But an unfamiliar noise was an unfamiliar noise, whoever or whatever made it, and she admitted to herself that she was sometimes nervous.
Was there drug dealing at Sullivan’s? It seemed unlikely—but then, so did an unexplained death. Under its quiet surface, rural Ireland had a lot going on, and it wasn’t all good.
Maybe a chat with Bridget would cheer her up. Maura took a quick shower, dressed, and ambled down the lane to Bridget’s house. Bridget opened the door quickly when she knocked.
“Fáilte, a Mhaire! Come in. I’ve been wonderin’ when yeh’d come and tell me all the news. Help yerself to a cup of tea—it’s ready in the pot there.”
When she was settled with a cup of tea and a piece of Bridget’s brown bread with butter, Maura said, “How much have you heard from Mick?”
“Ah, the boy never tells me anything! Thinks it’ll upset me. Like I’ve never heard bad news in my eighty-some years. There’s been talk of nothing else fer days, what with the music and that poor man dyin’. I’m told the gardaí have been keepin’ busy around yer place. What does yer young garda think?”
“Sean? He’s not exactly mine, you know. Anyway, he’s looking into it. Has Mick told you about the other things that have been happening?”
Bridget made tsking noises when Maura talked, and when Maura wrapped up her story, Bridget said, “It’s worryin’, right enough. Any one of those things could be the work of some unhappy local fella, lookin’ fer easy money. But comin’ all together? I believe yer right—there’s somebody else from outside. Yer bein’ careful, aren’t yeh?”
“I try, but I realized I’m kind of out of practice. Look, I’ve always heard that musicians attract . . . problems, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. And I’ve seen the inside of enough bars in Boston to know what goes on. I just wasn’t prepared for this, not here.”
“Yer talkin’ about the drugs, are yeh not?”
Even Bridget knew, up here in her country cottage on a lonely hillside? “Yes, I am. What do you know about drugs? Wait, why do you know about drugs?”
Bridget smiled, if a bit sadly. “Ah, Maura, I may be old and I may live in the country, but I’m not stupid nor daft. I listen to the radio, and I watch the telly. It’s not the world I grew up in—back then drink was the only problem, and a serious one at that for some people. But this other stuff . . . It’s no surprise to me that a lot comes in from the sea around here. There’s plenty of coastline, much of it beyond the sight of any houses. And too few gardaí—plus I’ve heard they might be l
ayin’ off some and closin’ stations because the country can’t afford so many. So anyone with a fast boat could make good money haulin’ stuff, and no one the wiser. Maybe like you I’d hoped that it hopped right over West Cork and went straight to Dublin. I should know better, at my age.”
“Bridget, I think you’re amazing to keep up with all this. And you’ve pretty much nailed the situation, as Sean described it to me. But it hurts that it’s landed on my doorstep.”
“Is that what yeh think happened with poor Aidan? The drugs, I mean?” Bridget asked.
“I’m starting to think so. I mean, I want to think someone from Cork followed him for . . . something he had. But the person is still around and he’s still looking. I don’t know which would be worse: him refusing to give up until he gets what he’s looking for, and hurting more people along the way, or him giving up and going back to wherever he came from, and the rest of us never knowing what really happened.”
“Ah, Maura, yeh’ve got yerself a fine puzzle, haven’t yeh? Is Sean Murphy up to the task, do yeh think?”
“I hope so. I mean, he’s smart and he works hard. But I can’t say if this whole drug thing is out of his league altogether.”
“Is the boy smart enough to ask for help if he needs it?”
“I think so. I don’t think he’s looking just to make a name for himself. If he needs to call in the big guns, I’d bet he will.”
“Do yeh like the lad?”
Maura considered playing dumb, but she knew what Bridget was asking. “I don’t know, Bridget. I don’t know how I feel about him. Sean’s a good guy, like I said. But to tell the truth, sometimes he seems kind of young to me, even though we’re close to the same age. Or maybe I mean I feel old around him—I feel like I’ve seen a lot more than he has, even though that’s not his fault. And take Tim Reilly. You haven’t met him, but he seems younger than Sean even, although they’re only a couple of years apart. But Tim just doesn’t act grown up yet. He and Rose hit it off well, but she’s wiser than he is sometimes, and she’s years younger than him.”
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