She started to tear apart her room looking for them. Just when Jane was yanking the sheets off the bed to check under the mattress, a knock sounded at the door.
Fiona said from the hallway, “Jane, I need ta’ talk to you.”
She ran over and pulled the door open. “Fiona, were you in my room today?”
“I was cleaning. I took sometink you’re pro’bly lookin’ for.”
“Come inside.” Jane shut the door after her, then regarded the young woman who was avoiding looking her in the eye. “Where are the letters?”
“I gave ’em to that guard, Nolan.” Fiona crossed her arms but still stared down at the floor.
Jane let out a deep breath as she sank onto the bed, holding her head in her hands. “I was going to do that, but I wish you hadn’t.” Yes, she probably would have gotten around to giving them to the police.
“Nolan tole’ me ta’ call him when you got back, so I did. He’s on his way here.”
Jane gripped her head tighter for a moment, then forced her hands down. “All right. I need to tell Griff.” But before she made it to the door, a pounding rattled the door frame.
“Who’s there?” She threw Fiona a filthy glare, one that encompassed all her feelings of betrayal, in spite of the fact she’d stolen the letters herself in the first place.
“Chief Superintendent Nolan. I have some questions for you.”
She swung open the door, then followed him yet again to his place of interrogation, the diminutive library, where he told her to sit once more in the examination chair. The lamp did not shine out of the darkness into her eyes this time, since adequate light from the descending evening sun slanted in through the window. The musty bookshelves overhead and dusty carpet underfoot were just the same as before.
Nolan placed an evidence bag containing the letters on the table. “You had in your possession letters written by Kate Irwin to Griffin O’Doherty.”
The statement seemed to call for a response. “Yes.”
“Were did you get the letters?”
“I took them from Griff’s room. I know that sounds bad, and I expect you to think the worst…” She cleared her parched throat and continued. “I’m sure you read the one where Kate wrote, ‘if only your uncle were dead.’ ”
“I read that.”
“She has a motive because she seemed to want Alsander out of the way.”
“Perhaps. What else haven’t you told me about?”
“Nothing. I wish I had more, but I really haven’t learned much.” She breathed in the scent of ink, old glue, and crumbly bindings.
“Tell me what you’ve learned.” Nolan gave her an encouraging, go-on, keep-on-talking nod.
What choice did she have? “Well, I found out there are two wills and a judge is going to decide which is valid. One leaves the castle to Griff and the other to Mairéid.” She took another deep breath and closed her eyes. “I guess you could make a case that they both have a motive to kill Alsander since they each believe they inherit. But they aren’t the only ones with a motive. Sean Smithwicket would like to buy the castle and he’s been hanging around Mairéid a lot, hoping she inherits and will sell to him. So, he has a motive and a drug history, too.”
He let her wind down, then waited a beat before saying, “Anything else?”
“Yes. Mairéid’s been following me.” It took a minute for Jane to find the photographs of Mairéid’s car at the Rock of Cashel and the magazine in Mairéid’s room. “She’s been reading about wrestling neck holds.” Jane handed him her phone and contemplated him from her seated position. “I have question for you. Did the amphetamines come from Sean Smithwicket? It looked to me like he was passing drugs to Mairéid. I saw them meeting a couple of times.”
Nolan didn’t respond, but gave the phone back to her.
She pocketed her phone, then tucked her hands under her crossed arms. The time had come to lay out all the facts for the police. “The way I figure it, this is the evidence, the two wills, which I haven’t seen by the way, Kate’s letters, and the book.”
“What book?” He loomed over her.
“Up there.” She pointed to the top shelf. “There was a book on excited delirium, but last time I looked it was gone.”
Nolan stepped over to the high boards and reached to his tiptoes. He grasped the heavy volume with gilded black letters spelling out, Excited Delirium Syndrome and Death. Her throat was dry already, but dried up even more, as arid as the thin dusty pages of the book. Was the book’s disappearance in her imagination? Or had someone else found it, just like she had, taken it from the library and returned it once more?
Her voice came out scratchy, so she swallowed a couple of times. “I first saw the book the night Alsander died. I came in here looking for something to read to help me sleep.”
“And you said it disappeared?”
“Yes. I looked for it again later, but it wasn’t there. Let’s see…that was last Sunday night, long after the search warrant. Why didn’t you find it when you searched the castle?”
“We should have, but we weren’t looking for anything like that.” He adjusted his tie.
“Tell me about the two wills, please.” Jane wondered where Griff was. Had he already been grilled about the letters? Was he angry at her for taking them and for talking to the police?
“Alsander signed two different wills hours apart on the same day at different solicitors’ offices, one arranged by Mairéid and one by Griffin. The one arranged by Griffin is the last will. If the wills were signed under duress, both will be thrown out and the old will, the one executed several years ago, survives as the last valid will.”
“Oh.” She gazed across the tiny room with sightless eyes and pressed her hands to her cheeks. “Oh.”
His fingertips beat out a rhythm on the small table next to her chair. “What are you remembering?”
“An old man at the wake, Mr. Burns. He said that Alsander was confused the day he signed both wills.”
“I thought you said you told me everything already.” Nolan scribbled on a page in his folder.
“I thought I had.” She’d need to make a note of this herself. “I just remembered about Burns. I’d forgotten him until now.”
“Do you know where I can find him, this Burns?”
“Maybe the bocce ball court. He hangs out with someone called Mr. McCollum.” She shifted in her chair. “Can you tell me who benefits from that older will if these latest two are invalid?”
“Griffin O’Doherty.”
She covered her eyes with her hand. “Are you getting close to making an arrest?”
“As a matter of fact, we are. We’ll check the fingerprints on this book.” With a nod of his head, he handed the heavy text to a guard standing at the door.
“My fingerprints are sure to be on that book.”
“Duly noted.” Superintendent Nolan told Jane she was free to go.
And she should go…all the way to Scotland. Time to pack. Figure out the ferry. Say goodbye.
The desire to stay in Ireland was receding fast.
She slipped up to her room to pack her suitcase and prepare for leaving the next morning. She sat on her bag to zip it shut, then texted Griff the message: Have a minute? I need to talk to you. He returned a text that he could meet her in the graveyard. Jane’s stomach twisted in a knot as she descended the stairs and headed for the door.
How could she tell him she’d stolen the letters?
How could she tell him she’d told the police?
How could she tell him goodbye?
Fiona waved her arms from behind the reception desk to get Jane’s attention. “You need a brollie if you’re goin’ outside.”
“A what?”
“Umbrella. It’s raining.” Fiona brought a black umbrella out from behind the counter and handed it to her.
Jane took hold of it, then trudged down the front steps in the mist and around the side of the castle to the spooky, old graveyard. Small, gray raindrops drippe
d from the fragrant rowan trees under a heavy, purple sky. Griff was waiting by the low wall, but her favorite corner of the graveyard was no longer bathed in sunshine. He took the umbrella and opened it, then held it above their heads, forming a cocoon of protection.
Chilled, Jane rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “Griff, I just left Superintendent Nolan a bit ago.”
He clenched his jaws. “I know. Fiona told me he was here and all about Kate’s letters.” The rain drummed on the top of the umbrella.
“I’m really, really sorry, Griff.” She placed her hand on his jacket. His heart thumped fast under her fingers, and the salt-sea smell of his navy pea coat filled her nose.
He grasped her hand in his, gazing down at her from his great height. “It’s okay, Jane. I should have given the letters to the guards, but I didn’t even think about them. I don’t remember what’s in them.”
She let out a breath. “I’m so relieved you feel that way.” She looked down at her shoes, her toes wet in a shallow puddle dotted with splashing raindrops. “Griff…Nolan explained that the two wills were signed on the same day. I know enough about the law to know if one of the new wills is found invalid, likely they both will be. Alsander won’t be deemed competent one moment and incompetent the next in the same day. If the two recent wills are valid, you’re the beneficiary of the last one signed. If both are thrown out, you’re still the one who benefits from the older will.”
“I told you Mairéid wouldn’t get the castle.”
“You knew you couldn’t lose.”
His lips were tight. “Mairéid took Uncle to a solicitor to change his will, but I asked Uncle if that’s what he really wanted to do. He said no, and so I took him to another solicitor.”
“That was not the proper way to handle it.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “Nolan claims he’s close to an arrest.”
“He’s been saying that.” Griff ground his teeth and his temples pulsated. Jane wished she had known him before he had lost his parents, before he had to work for his keep, before he had to endure all this pain. She was sad she was going to be the cause of more.
“You know I’m leaving tomorrow morning.” She drew her hand out from his to slide the Celtic ring with the emerald stone off her finger. “I really had fun today, and I’ll always remember our day in Galway, but please take this back. I hope you can return it. I should never have let you buy it for me in the first place.”
“I want you to keep it.”
“I really enjoyed the time we spent together, and I care about you a great deal…but I’m leaving for Scotland, Griff, then I’m going home.” Her eyes were wet, but not from the rain.
“Just a holiday romance? Is that all this was?” He slid the ring back on her finger, the third finger of her left hand, before he swept her to him, lifting the umbrella high over their heads, shielding their kiss from the drizzling mist.
He clutched her tighter in a death grip. “I can’t let you go.”
“Wait!” A woman screamed from the other side of the graveyard. Griff dropped his hold on her, and they both whirled around.
“Wait just a darned minute.” Cheryl sped up to them. The hood of her raincoat slid off the back of her head.
Jane and Griff exchanged shocked looks. He was speechless, but Jane squawked, “What in the world are you doing here?”
Raindrops glistened in Cheryl’s hair and trickled off the shoulders of her raincoat. “The question is, what are you two doing?”
“Just saying goodbye.” Stunned, Jane moved the umbrella over to cover Cheryl as well. She was dumbfounded and couldn’t put two coherent thoughts together. “How’d you get here so fast? Why are you here?”
“Your phone call scared me. We were on our way south to the Isle of Arran, so we just keep going on to Cairnryan and caught the ferry back. We let Olivia drive, so of course she drove over the speed limit all the way here. You should have heard our little Ford squealing along the highway like a toy race car.”
“Phone call? Jane, why’d you call Cheryl?” Griff’s hand loosened on the umbrella, which dipped, pouring water onto the ground.
Cheryl answered, glaring at him as if he was the most ignorant man on the planet, “Of course my best friend called and let me know you gave her a ring.” She stared at Jane’s left hand.
Jane finally had a rational thought. “You didn’t need to rush over here. I’m all packed. I was going to catch the ferry in the morning.”
“I didn’t know that for sure.” Cheryl blew out a deep breath, blasting her bangs off her forehead. Jane recognized that annoyed look.
Just then the other three dinner club members rushed up to Cheryl’s side, and after them, Nolan, three guards, Mairéid, and Sean, clutching an oversized golf umbrella. The only one missing from the scene was Fiona.
“What’s going on?” Griff asked, his tone defensive.
“We’re here to make an arrest.” Nolan looked from Mairéid’s flushed face to Griff’s guarded expression to Sean’s scared look, his skin white, then he stared straight at Bruce. Nolan clutched a set of metal handcuffs and took a step forward. Bruce swallowed hard, and the rest of the club all gasped out loud. Jane inched closer to her friend, as if she could protect him. Nolan couldn’t possibly be that far off the mark to arrest Bruce?
But if not Bruce, which one of them?
Griff appeared ready to take flight—his shoulders were tensed, his fists were balled, and his body took on something like a runner’s stance. A sheen of sweat shone on Mairéid’s angular face, as her watchful gaze under her dark, arching eyebrows pinged from one to the other of them. Sean’s eyes were so wide the whites around his irises showed.
These three all had the same motive, means, and opportunity.
Griff. Mairéid. Sean. But Jane didn’t want it to be Griff, and Nolan had damn well better not arrest Bruce.
Chapter 20
Nolan snapped open a pair of handcuffs…and grasped Griff’s arm!
Griff was the murderer.
The other guards surrounded him, and one snatched his hands behind his back to slap the handcuffs around his wrists. First Griff stood rigid with shock, but as the gardai led him away his shoulders sagged.
Mairéid and Sean exchanged triumphant looks, and Sean’s fingers took hold of hers. Everyone else was thunderstruck. The silence became thick. The evening mist shimmered on the pavement making everything look like a black and white film noir.
Cheryl’s hands flew in all directions, slicing through the stillness. “Jane, when I saw Griff put that ring on your left hand, I had to jump out of the car and run over here.”
Bruce added, “I hadn’t even parked the car yet.”
Olivia thumped Jane’s back. “I told Cheryl not to worry about you so much. You weren’t going to do something stupid, even if Griff is good looking, owns a castle, and has a sexy Irish accent, and you were ditzy about him.”
Mairéid tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, as if she wasn’t sure Jane wouldn’t do something stupid.
Doug shot his wife a discreet shut-up look, and before she could carry on, he said, “We were all worried about you, even Olivia, although she won’t admit it.”
Jane’s chest constricted, and her lower lip trembled. “I’m sorry you took the trouble to come back, but I’m glad you did.”
“Let’s get in out of the rain.” Bruce’s glasses were fogged over.
Mairéid spoke up for the first time. “I’d like to talk about the arrest, but I could sure use a cup of tea. Anyone want to join me at Wicket Good Coffee?” The way she said it sounded like “wicked good coffee.”
Sean added, “Great idea, but we’ll have to drive ’cause it’s too wet to walk.”
“Yes, let’s go.” Cheryl gave a little sigh, and with that the group headed over to the parking lot to climb into their vehicles. Cheryl shouldered open the driver’s door of Jane’s rental. “I’ll drive. You’re too done in.”
“Sounds good. It has been a very long day.” Jane d
ropped her purse onto the floorboard.
“And it’s going to be a long night.” Cheryl glanced at her watch. “It took us all day to get here, with the ferry ride and the drive, and now we’re going to turn around and go back. We have to leave in a couple of hours if we’re going to catch the midnight ferry to return to Scotland. Our things are still at our hotel there.”
“We’ve got lots of time, then.” Jane hollered from the passenger’s seat, “Mairéid, Sean, why don’t you two ride with us?”
“Thanks. We will.” Mairéid slid in the back and Sean climbed in after her, while the others climbed into the second Ford KA.
****
Sean went directly behind the counter at Wicket Good Coffee to help brew their drinks. The rest of them crowded around a rickety, rectangular table, dripping water on the floor.
Bruce said, “I called Ryan. He can’t get away from the pharmacy right now, but Una’s on her way over. Remember, we have to stop and see Ryan on the road back to the ferry.” He flicked a look at his wife that told everyone they’d had a prior discussion. Cheryl gave him an unnecessary nod, because they’d obviously already talked about it.
Sean brought over mugs for Mairéid and Jane. “I’ll be right back with the rest.”
“Thanks, Sean.” Mairéid took a sip of her hot, sweet tea, then started in with, “Jane, I couldn’t believe when you took off with Griff these past two days. I thought you suspected him.” The others sat still, as if waiting for Jane to collapse or cry or do something crazy.
But she remained composed and calm. “I suppose you know that from stealing my notes.” Jane turned her lips down at the corners. She’d stolen the letters, so who was she to complain?
“You put them in the trash.” Mairéid drew her head back, her mug gripped in her hand.
Jane shivered, her clothes damp from the rain. “Not my spiral notebook, though. Someone swiped that from my purse.”
“It was Griff that pinched your papers that time. He thought you were on ta’ him, Jane, when he heard you liked to investigate mysteries. He took that notebook from your purse after you left it in the dining hall, then he asked me to return your purse to you.”
A Stewed Observation Page 21