“I told the police I wasn’t sure who had him in the hold.” Dale ran his hands over the top of his head. “They asked me before I knew the old guy choked to death.”
Bruce’s shoulders sagged, and his chin sunk to his chest. “Doug, you had those citizen safety classes, same as me. You know I’d never use a choke hold to restrain anyone. It’s too dangerous.”
“Of course.” Doug dropped his voice. He would know, since he’d graduated from the police academy with Bruce all those years ago. After Doug left law enforcement, he went into corporate security.
Dale motioned for Jane to sit by him as the others murmured their agreement, but she headed for the coffee and asked, “Dale, tell me everything you saw last night.”
“I saw the same thing you did.”
“You were blocking my view.” Jane weighed the coffee pot in her hand. There was plenty enough for another cup or two.
Cheryl forgot the food on her fork to give Dale her complete attention. “Yes, what did you see?”
“I had my back to everyone when Alsander collapsed, and I didn’t get a good look at who had a hold of him. It happened too fast.”
Jane brought her steaming mug over to the chair next to Dale’s. “How about you Bruce?”
“I don’t know for certain who had him in the hold either. All I really know is, it wasn’t me.” Bruce had finished his breakfast; his plate was so clean a dog couldn’t have licked it any cleaner. At least he hadn’t lost his appetite in the midst of the stressful situation.
“Why weren’t you paying attention?” Cheryl’s tone was shrill with a little hysteria and a lot of annoyance.
Bruce’s hand flew up to tap his eyeglasses. “Someone knocked my glasses off, and I couldn’t see that well.”
“What about those other two who were there?” Olivia sliced through a tomato with her fork and knife.
Jane said, “One was the old guy’s daughter. Could it have been her? She looked strong enough.”
Bruce said, “Maybe…”
“Whatever happened was an accident. Besides, they can’t prove who did what, you know…beyond a reasonable doubt. That’s good enough.” Jane hoped that was the case, anyway.
“Do you know that for a fact?” Cheryl’s face was pale, and there were dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn’t gotten much sleep.
“No. I don’t,” Jane admitted. “The standard of proof could be different here.” She worked as a paralegal in Colorado and knew nothing about criminal law in Ireland, in spite of her past experience in this foreign country. Her fears rushed back with a flood of adrenaline. “Should we call a lawyer or something?”
“I haven’t been charged with anything.” Bruce lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “At least not yet.”
Cheryl added, “I wonder what the other witnesses said, Griffin and the other two.” The group cast worried glances from one to the other. Jane chewed on a fingernail.
“It’ll probably be cleared up in no time.” Doug locked eyes with Bruce. “You did nothing wrong. None of us did.”
“No matter what happens, we’re sticking together. Solidarity.” Cheryl reached her hands out, and Bruce gripped one and Olivia the other. “A pact.”
Jane laid her hand over Olivia’s. Dale’s hand went on top of hers, and Doug joined in. A moment of understanding rippled through the group before they dropped hands. She would stick up for the other club members, but what could she honestly say? What had she witnessed for certain?
Chapter 3
Dale’s cellphone rang and he answered it. “Hello, Polly.” He gave a heavy sigh, threw his napkin on top of his plate, and turned his back to the others sitting around the breakfast table.
Jane curled her lip into an all-knowing, been-there-done-that expression and shot a glance at Cheryl, who would totally get it. And, yes, her friend’s face was equally twisted into a scowl. Jane had told her best friend long ago she was jealous of Dale’s ex-wife.
“All right then. I’ll call you right back.” Dale returned the phone to his pocket, but avoided everyone’s questioning glances.
“What’s the matter?” Jane sat up straight. “What did Polly want?”
“A problem at the restaurant. The grease trap caught fire and the sprinkler system went off. So, there’s a lot of damage, and she’s dealing with the insurance.” Dale pushed his plate away.
Jane swiped her coffee cup from the table and strode to the pot for a refill. “Why can’t Polly handle things on her own? We’re on vacation.” His ex-wife never let Dale forget he was still a part owner of her restaurant. She always seemed to need his help, even though he was already occupied full-time with his flourishing electrical business.
“This is no small matter.”
“She can take care of it herself for once.” Jane thrust her chin in the air. Olivia cleared her throat, and everyone’s gazes darted between the couple.
“Sorry, Jane.” Dale stood up and edged toward the door. “I need to make a few more phone calls and get one of my electricians out there. Don’t wait for me. I’ll catch up with you later.” He trotted out of the room as if he was running to put out a fire himself. Olivia gave Jane a sympathetic look.
Cheryl patted her shoulder. “Maybe Dale will be able to take care of everything quickly. We don’t have to meet Bruce’s cousin right this minute. I’ll call and let him know we’ll be a little late.”
“First let me find out how much time Dale needs. I’ll be back in a sec’.” Jane plopped her mug down and charged out of the room, but slowed in the hallway, then dragged herself up the stairs. She barely tapped her knuckles on his door.
He must have been standing on the other side, because he opened the door while she was in mid-knock. “Come on in.”
“Do you know how long you’ll be? I can stay behind with you. I don’t have to meet Bruce’s relatives.” She tried to relax her tight smile, to let him know she was at least trying. His room was a mess, with an unmade bed, discarded shoes scattered over the floor, and an open suitcase that appeared to have been ransacked.
“No need for that. I can leave now after all. The electrician is on his way over to Polly’s. It’s all set, but I may need to take some calls while we’re out.” She gave him a level look. “Honey, I’ll make it up to you. I promise this will be an extra special day. One you’ll remember forever.” He swept her in his arms and gave her a passionate kiss.
When he let go and she stumbled back a few steps, she gave him a genuine smile. The anticipation was killing her. Was he going to propose today?
Dale was her first serious beau since she’d been widowed. They’d broken up before because of Polly, then gotten back together again—almost a year ago now. Marriage seemed the next natural step.
“All right.” The anger had dripped out of her body when anticipation of the surprise entered in.
Dale squeezed her fingers and held her hand on the way back downstairs to join everyone in the hall. Olivia forgot her glasses and had to return to her room. Then Bruce went back for his cellphone, and Cheryl ran to their room for a jacket.
While waiting for the others, Jane and Dale explored the castle grounds. Their feet sank into the oozing, wet earth as they entered a creepy, old graveyard behind a low stone wall—a graveyard in shadows, the kind that would be downright spooky in the middle of the night. But this morning the smell of spring was in the air, with buttercups and bluebells blooming where the sun reached the boundary walls. Thin, gray and white speckled tombstones stood up from the ground in a crooked row, like bottom teeth in need of braces. Hand carved words that were cut into the cracked, stone slabs dated from the seventeen-hundreds. One woman, also named Jane, but with the last name of Smithwicket, died at the age of twenty-seven and was buried with five of her children. Five! Families had interred wives and husbands together in the same plot, and the barely discernable history on the weather-worn tombstones told stories of love and devotion…
Dale got down on one knee.
W
as he going to propose? Now? In the graveyard? That would certainly be something she’d remember forever. She was a little breathless.
But he only leaned closer to an old grave and brushed away at the crumbling stone.
They heard a woman’s voice from the direction of a three-story tower with a curved entryway set in the corner of the castle wall. The splintered and cracked wooden door gaped open. “Darlin’, did you tell her?”
“Is it really necessary? Can’t I just let it die a natural death?” a man’s voice answered. Jane wondered if he was as weary as he sounded.
“You’re cruel…” An arrogant laugh floated out, sounding smug, a little bossy.
Jane mouthed to Dale, “Did you hear that? Who’s talking?” He shrugged his shoulders, so she whispered, “What did he say about death?”
At that moment, Oliva appeared over the wall. “Oh, excuse me.” She started to back away.
Jane said, “We’re just looking at these old tombstones. We’re coming.” She waited as Dale rose to a stand. She glanced toward the tower door, but saw no one, so she followed Dale and Olivia around the side of the castle to join the others in front. They all set out on foot for People’s Park where they were to meet Bruce’s cousin.
They hurried through the arched stone entrance, along the manicured pathways, past an ornate, red and white fountain and a raised, limestone sculpture, and streaked over to a young couple reclining on a park bench. An infant was nestled in the man’s arm, but he hoisted the baby up to his shoulder as he rose to his feet. A short man, he forced his head back. “Bruce?”
“Ryan?” Bruce slapped Ryan on the back. “You were just a little kid when I saw you last.”
“And you were a teenager, I remember.” Ryan turned to the petite woman beside him. “This is my wife, Una.” Ryan was the opposite of his elfin wife. He was chunky, with no neck and a chin that sagged right into his shirt collar. She was decked out in running clothes that looked small, as if a child’s size, and large, red glasses that seemed big for her face.
“It’s nice to meet you, Una.” Bruce gave his cousin’s wife a gentle, one-armed hug and then introduced everyone. “My wife, Cheryl, and that’s Olivia and Doug Ladner, Dale Capricorn, and Jane Marsh.”
Ryan switched the baby to his left arm and shook their hands. “By the way, this is Benjamin.” The proud father waggled the infant’s hand. The baby’s blond hair stuck up all over, and he was wearing a light blue onesie. The toes of his bare feet spread out wide as he kicked with his bandy legs. The women all exclaimed how cute he was.
“Have you seen the park? It’s lovely in May. Or we can go somewhere for a cup o’ tea. What would you like to do?” Una urged her glasses up the bridge of her nose.
“You can decide. But did you hear the news about Alsander O’Doherty?” Bruce glanced from his cousin to his cousin’s wife.
“What happened?” Ryan jiggled the baby on his hip.
“He died last night.”
Ryan stopped bouncing the baby and hugged him tighter. “He died! How?”
Bruce started the story, but they all chimed in to help finish it, although no one bothered to mention the policeman’s claim someone choked him to death. Finally, Bruce added that detail at the end.
“He accidently strangled ta’ death, did ya’ say?” Una cried out.
“What a bloody kerfuffle. This calls for a visit to the pub, Una.” Ryan tossed the infant in the air and caught him in a tight hold.
“We can’t take the baby to the pub.” Una shook her head hard, her hair slapping against her cheeks.
“Sure we can. Let’s go.”
Una smacked her husband’s arm, leaving a red hand print. “We’re not goin’ there. Come on, everyone.” She whirled around to head down the well-trimmed path, and after a moment’s hesitation, the rest of them tagged along behind her, keeping their distance.
They strolled past immaculate flowerbeds crowded with orchids perfuming the air and delicate white flowers of Queen Anne’s lace decorating the borders. The Americans snapped photos of the gardens and group pictures with the Irish relatives. Shouting children ran around in the play area, but Ryan did not let Una stop to swing the baby, producing another outburst—from Bruce’s cousin this time. “You’ll have to excuse us. We’re a fightin’ people with tempers.” Ryan laughed, so everyone else did, too.
“Let’s stop for tea now,” suggested Cheryl. They crossed the street and went into a cozy tea shop.
“Do you want a high chair for your daughter?” Dale asked, as a waitress led them to a table.
“Their son, their son. It’s a boy.” Jane stabbed Dale in the ribs with her elbow.
“Your son, I mean. Jeremiah.” Dale gave the baby a wide smile, like someone trying to make up for his mistake.
“His name’s Benjamin,” cried Jane and Olivia at the same time, and Dale said, “Oops.”
“That’s fine. It doesn’t matter.” Una instructed the waitress, “A high chair would be lovely.”
They shuffled around the table and took their seats to read the menus written in lacy, scrolled letters. From selections of black tea, green tea, herbal and fruit, hot chocolate and chai, they finally ordered, and once the tea and biscuits arrived, they couldn’t help but speak more about Alsander’s death. Everyone agreed it was incredible.
“He just collapsed, fell—splat—like that, right onto the floor.” Dale clapped his hands together. “How in the world could he have choked to death?”
Doug said, “The police told me the medical officer showed up at the scene. It was only his preliminary opinion, they said.”
“I don’t know who had him in a tight hold.” Bruce’s voice held uncertainty.
“It wasn’t you.” Cheryl sputtered, cookie crumbs flying from her mouth. “Drink your tea.”
Jane tried to catch Dale’s eye, but he had pulled out his cellphone. The others made reassuring noises and Cheryl asked Bruce’s cousin about their other relatives.
After the topic of family was thoroughly discussed and tea finished, they piled into taxis at the train station for a ten minute ride to King John’s Castle, where they watched a video on the history of Limerick, King John, who was the brother of Richard the Lionheart, and the legends of Robin Hood and the Knights of the Round Table. Cheryl, as a curator at a modern art museum, was particularly interested in the exhibits with touch-screen automation, new technology in an old castle. After they examined the displays, they climbed the tower to a view of the city and river. It was strange to rub up against the ancient stones at the top of the thirteenth century fortress and at the same time catch sight of the modern road below jammed with automobiles and tour buses.
Cheryl turned her back to the parapet, her bent elbows propped against the hard cut stones. “Ryan, Bruce told me you’re the pharmacist in town.”
“There are several of us. I’m not the only one. This is a big city.” His chest puffed out, but then he deflated. “I do the prescription for Alsander O’Doherty, you know.”
“What medication did he take?” Jane turned from the beautiful scene to stare at the pharmacist.
“I can’t tell you. Privacy issues. But I imagine the guards will be around to ask. They’ll be very interested, I’m sure.” Ryan had a speculative look in his eyes as he bounced Benjamin up and down in his arms. Jane exchanged glances with Olivia and Cheryl, guessing they were also wondering how they could find out.
After they descended the stairs and emerged outside, Una bumped her red glasses up the bridge of her nose and announced it was time for the baby’s nap. Everyone claimed they had a wonderful time, and before they departed, Ryan took Bruce aside for a private word. Jane tried to listen, but Dale distracted her when he said in her ear, “Let’s get off alone, just the two of us.”
This was it. The part of the extra special day she would never forget.
Dale and Jane set out on foot to explore the town on their own while the others returned to the castle. The two advanced along the crowde
d, cobbled sidewalks, pausing every few feet to study the goods exhibited in front windows shaded by colorful awnings. The stores were bunched together, side-by-side, and were bursting with stacks of tea-towels, dish sets, woolen knits, and boxes of chocolates.
Dale waited in line at the cash register in one of the tourist shops packed elbow-to-elbow and Jane waited in front. Ryan Breewood rushed past, apparently without seeing her. After a few more steps, he halted at the corner and began a heated discussion with a woman who towered over him. She had long, wavy black hair that flew about as she shook her head side-to-side. Jane recognized the woman—Alsander’s daughter. A few of their words carried over the short distance above the traffic noise.
Ryan wagged his finger. “The doctor changed, I tell you.”
“When did all this come about?”
“Couple o’ weeks ago now.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” The woman’s chest heaved.
“Why should I? I had the doctor’s note, you see. You can just bugger off!” Ryan’s jaw was so tight Jane could see his temple throb from where she stood. His eyes bulged, and his shoulders were back.
The woman turned on her heels and marched down the street in the other direction at the same time Dale emerged from the shop. “What are you looking at?” Dale weaved his arm around her shoulder.
“Bruce’s cousin having it out with Alsander’s daughter. Look, over there.” Jane pointed to the end of the street, but both Ryan and the woman had disappeared. “Oh, they’re gone. They were arguing.”
“Why are you surprised? Ryan seemed the type. Where was Irma?”
“You mean Una. She must be at home with the baby.” Jane remembered to look right before they stepped off the curb to cross the street.
Dale didn’t seem concerned with the confrontation. “You want to see what I bought?”
“Sure.” Jane surveyed the contents of his sack to find an emerald green tee shirt that read, Erin go Braugh. “Nice. Very tourist-y.”
“Let’s keep shopping.” He seemed to be looking for something in particular when they paused at a jewelry store. He asked, “What do you think of that ring?”
A Stewed Observation Page 3