Death at Whitewater Church

by Andrea Carter

  “And did you?”

  She shook her head again. “With everything that happened that night, I was scared. I thought he’d be in even bigger trouble.”

  “Do you think he could have seen something that night?”

  “I don’t know. I went back to bed, and we never talked about it again.”

  * * *

  I jumped in my car and drove the fifteen miles to the Devitts’ house in fifteen minutes flat. The only thing that saved my neck was the fact that I didn’t meet a single car on the road, but I nearly wrecked the poor Mini’s undercarriage on the lane to the house. I turned into the yard, braked sharply, and leaped out, the engine still running. I rapped on the door, and Mary Devitt answered after what felt like minutes, but was probably only a matter of seconds. She had a knife in her hand, covered in oil paint.

  “Conor, is he here?” I asked breathlessly.

  “No. He’s gone,” she said sadly.

  “What do you mean, gone?”

  “He’s left. Said he’d done what he needed to do and now he had to go again. I have to let him live his life.”

  “Where has he gone?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know.”

  I took a deep breath. “Mrs. Devitt, did you ever think that Conor knew something about what happened to his father’s ship?”

  Her expression clouded. “You mean the Sadie?”

  “Yes. Could he have seen something? I know he was only a child at the time.”

  “Eleven,” she offered.

  “Well?”

  Her eyes drifted over my shoulder. “So much happened that night,” she said vaguely. “It’s hard for me to remember.”

  My tone grew impatient. “Claire said he used to sneak out at night to watch for his father’s ship.”

  She leaned against the doorframe for support. “I didn’t know that.”

  “She said he went out that night, the night of the bombing. Do you think he would have told you if he had seen something?”

  With an effort, she pulled herself together. “This doesn’t reflect very well on me, Miss O’Keeffe, but it’s possible he wouldn’t have. His father – well, all our attention went on him, on coping with him. Conor was used to keeping secrets.”

  “And Raymond Kelly? Conor never told you why he hated him so much?”

  “The man from the church? No, why?”

  “I think he may have had something to do with the bombing.”

  She paled.

  “How long is it since Conor left?”

  “A couple of hours.” Then her eyes widened in horror. “You don’t think he …?”

  She dropped her knife on the floor with a loud clatter and pushed past me. I watched as she dashed across the yard, her skirt flapping wildly against her ankles. She ran to what looked like an old turf shed. I followed and stood beside her as she pulled open the door and switched on a light. She dropped to her knees and crawled under an old workbench, and with some difficulty managed to drag out a wooden box. She lifted the lid and turned to face me with a look of horror, her face white in the weak light.

  “Jack’s shotgun,” she said. “It’s gone.”

  I drove down the lane as if I were in a rally car, my head almost hitting the roof as the springs tried their best and failed. I dialed the Kellys’ numbers again as I drove, but there was still no answer from either of their mobiles. I tried the pub again. This time a young male voice answered.

  “Trevor?”

  “Aye.” There was the sound of music in the background.

  “Are either of your parents there? It’s Ben O’Keeffe, the solicitor.”

  “Nah. Mam went out a while ago, to some sort of a meeting, I think. She said she wouldn’t be back till late, and I don’t know where my dad is.”

  “It’s very important I get to speak to them.”

  “Okay. If I see my dad I’ll ask him to give you a call.”

  I hung up and immediately dialed the garda station. McFadden answered.

  “Andy, is Molloy there?”

  “He should be back in ten minutes. Will I get him to call you?”

  “Do.”

  “You all right?”

  “Just get him to call me as soon as possible, would you?”

  I stopped the car at the entrance to the main road. The wind was building again. I could feel a draught sneaking in the door where the rubber had worn away. My head was spinning. What the hell should I do now? Drive back to Glendara to find Claire? But what good would that do? She was unlikely to know where Conor was.

  I decided to drive to Buncrana to try to track down the Kellys. I looked right and left before turning back onto the road. Across the fields to the cliffs I could see the moonlit sea. Then a glinting to my right suddenly caught my eye. The lighthouse at Malin Head, I guessed. I looked again. No. The light was coming from much closer inland … My heart pounded. The church – it was coming from there!

  With a screech of gears, I turned the car around and drove back in the direction of Whitewater Church.

  Chapter 34

  THERE WERE TWO cars parked at the entrance to the church. I dialed the garda station again, a feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach. Silence. Not even a dial tone. I looked at the screen of my phone, the white light ghostly in the dark of the car. Of course, no bloody reception. The road was in a dip – I had only been able to phone from outside the church when we had found the bones, from higher ground.

  I looked at the gate. If my suspicions were correct, the last thing I wanted was to be in the same company as the Kellys, Conor Devitt, and a shotgun. But I had no choice: if I drove to get help, by the time I got back it could be too late. At least I had a hope of calling for help up at the church.

  The wind battered me as I tried to close the car door; my coat flapped wildly around my legs. The moon was hidden now by black clouds that had moved in front of it, making the light eerie and unpredictable, lightening and darkening with no warning. A storm was coming.

  I opened the gate, took a deep breath, and entered the darkened avenue. Bushes and brambles thrashed about like crazed Medusas. I caught sight of the beam of light again for a second, when I emerged into the clearing – a weak flash through the gaps in the walls of the church where the windows had once been. It was a torch, or maybe two. Silently, I ran the rest of the way up the hill and reached the entrance to the church, my lungs burning, my feet wet from the icy grass. I stopped at the huge corrugated-iron door, which was ajar, maybe a foot and a half, a pale shaft of light escaping along the rough ground. I held my breath and peered in as the wind carried the murmur of voices towards me.

  I saw two faces, each illuminated by the other’s torch. One transformed utterly from the determined stoic I had encountered the day before, the other calm and controlled, like a mother speaking to a small child.

  “Please, Conor, just go,” Alison Kelly said.

  “Not unless you come with me.” It was Conor Devitt.

  “I can’t.”

  “I’m not going to leave you here with him. Not again.” He touched her face. “It was a mistake to leave without you in the first place.”

  She removed his hand. “I couldn’t have left without Trevor, you know that. He was only a child.”

  “We could have taken him with us.”

  Alison shook her head. “I would never have done that. Whatever you think of him, Ray’s still Trevor’s father.”

  “I should have stayed then. Whatever it took for us to be together. Anything would be better than the way things are, only seeing each other every few months.”

  “Don’t be stupid.”

  He flinched. Her tone was sharp.

  “I don’t know why you’re here at all,” she went on. “I told you not to come back.”

  “There was no reason for me to stay away anymore. Not now that he knows I’m not dead.”

  “Surely that’s even more of a reason?”

  “I’m not afraid of him, Allie.”

  She ran h
er fingers through her hair. “Well, I am. If he had known I let you out of the crypt that day, he’d have killed you. You knew too much for him to let you go. God knows why you had to confront him in the first place.”

  Conor’s expression darkened. “You know why.”

  She heaved a sigh. “He had no idea that you were the kid who had seen him all those years ago – until you decided to go and tell him.” She looked skywards. “I still don’t know what the hell you were thinking. And why choose to tell him here, of all places?”

  “It had to be here. How he could buy this church after what he did …”

  She cut across him, impatient. “That was me – I told you that. I talked him into buying it. He didn’t want to come back at all; he knew what risks he might run. He did it for me.”

  “It was time, Allie. I needed to show him what he’d done, the community he’d destroyed.”

  “And tell him about us? Even though I didn’t want you to?”

  “He needed to know.”

  “No, he didn’t.”

  “You were afraid of him. It was up to me to tell him.”

  “The morning of your own wedding?”

  “I couldn’t go through with a wedding to someone else, you know that. Not after I’d found you again.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “I wanted to take care of you. Like I used to. I still do.”

  She pulled away. “I’m an adult, Conor. I’m not that fat little kid who needs a friend anymore. I wasn’t then and I’m not now. We could have continued to see each other, but oh no, you had to force my hand. Just like you’re trying to do now. I can’t believe you scared our buyers away like that.”

  “I didn’t think I’d need to force your hand. You were supposed to follow me, remember? When Trevor was old enough.”

  Conor kicked at a weed growing amidst the rubble. “I should have gone after him, back then when you let me out. I should have gone after him and told him about us and that you were coming with me. Not let you talk me into taking that young lad’s body and putting it in my place.” He stared at the ground, one hand in his pocket. “That was a crazy thing to do.”

  “It was the only thing to do. You needed to get away.”

  He looked up at her and, for the first time, a note of anger entered his voice. “No. I did that for your sake, but it was a mistake. It was a terrible thing to do to my family. I should have come back long ago, but I didn’t – for you. It was only ever a matter of time before that body would be found.”

  He took a step towards her again and leaned in close. “It’s time to face things. We can do it now.”

  Again, she pulled back. “No. You need to leave. Just go, Conor, please.”

  The wind changed direction, and I could no longer hear what they were saying. I peered cautiously around the edge of the door. Suddenly, I heard movement behind me – a footfall, the rustling of grass. I whirled around, my senses on overload. I thought I could make out a form about ten feet away, but when I looked again, it was gone. Had it been a trick of the shadows? The wind was churning the heavy storm clouds, daring them to break.

  I’d turned back to face the door, my ears straining to hear what was being said, when I felt warm breath on the back of my neck. My heart jolted as someone grabbed my arm, wrenching it almost out of its socket, then hauled me inside and shoved me roughly between the two people in the church. They drew abruptly apart, and I heard a torch drop onto the ground. The light dimmed immediately. I stumbled forward and put my hands against the wall to stop my fall, scraping them painfully in the process. I managed to regain my footing in time to see Raymond Kelly, looking gray and thin and wretched, walk calmly over to his wife.

  “Did you know your show had an audience?” he asked.

  Alison’s eyes widened in horror. “Ray. What are you doing here?”

  “Your boyfriend called me – didn’t he tell you? We had a nice little chat. Brought back memories of the last rendezvous he and I had up here, on the day of his wedding, no less.” Kelly’s voice was hard. “You’d think I’d learn, really. I only ever get a nasty fucking surprise when I’m summoned up here.”

  “Ray, please, I—”

  “I’m disappointed you fell for him, sweetheart. It’s me he’s after, not you. He’s only trying to get at me.”

  Conor moved towards the far wall. “Not true, Kelly. That’s the way it started, but it hasn’t been that way for a long time.”

  Without switching his gaze from Kelly for a second, Conor placed the torch, now the only source of light in the church, onto the window ledge, and picked up what I now saw had been resting against the wall the whole time. I stiffened. I heard Alison’s sharp intake of breath, and instinctively I took a step away from Conor and towards the Kellys.

  Conor slowly raised the shotgun in his arms and, feet planted firmly apart, aimed it directly at Kelly. “At first, all I wanted was to destroy you, to make you pay for what you had done, but it’s been more than that for several years now. I love her. We love each other.”

  Alison’s eyes darted from one man to the other. “Ray, it’s not like that! Look at him – he’s crazy.”

  I stole a glance at Kelly. He was impassive. Not at all the panicker I was used to, despite having a gun pointed at him. Which one was the mask, I wondered.

  “No more lying, Allie,” Conor said. “I refuse to walk away again. I need to finish what I started.”

  I reached for the phone in the pocket of my coat and felt for the on button, my eyes fixed on Conor. I thought I could remember where the redial button was. My mouth was dry, my throat constricted.

  “Come and stand by me,” he said, beckoning to Alison. She shook her head.

  I gasped suddenly as Kelly took a swipe at the side of my head, so hard I bit my tongue. The phone shot violently out of my hand and hit a stone, ricocheted, and skittered across the concrete floor well out of reach. For a brief second all three pairs of eyes were on me.

  Conor started to laugh – a low, bitter laugh. “You are one nosy solicitor. Everywhere I turn, you’re there.”

  I put my hand to the side of my head. I tasted blood in my mouth.

  “Why are you doing this?” I asked quietly, my ears still ringing.

  “I want him to take responsibility. It is long overdue and I am calling him to account.” He waved the gun in Kelly’s direction. “You see this fine businessman here, this pillar of the community? This man is a murderer: he killed three people and as good as killed my father. Who knows how many others.”

  “No,” Kelly said. “It was my first time, and my last.”

  “It was your last because you were stupid enough to allow your face to be seen by a wee boy,” Conor spat. “Some brave volunteer you were!”

  “I was the fucking lookout, for God’s sake. I was only a kid myself.”

  “You were old enough to kill Lisa’s father.”

  “If you’re talking about the pilot, I panicked. It was an accident.”

  Fury flashed across Conor’s face. “Accident? You shot him in the back of the head as he was running away from you. I saw you do it! I actually grew up thinking it was my fault somehow, because you were looking at me when he made a run for it.”

  “It was your fault. You distracted me. What the hell were you doing out that night anyway? Hiding behind the pilot station in your fucking pajamas. Everything went wrong after that. Stupid little fuck.”

  “You wouldn’t know what guilt means, would you, what it means to have a conscience,” Conor said disgustedly. “You’d rather blame your actions on an eleven-year-old boy.”

  “No one was supposed to die that night. Mistakes were made. Not just by me.”

  “That wasn’t much use to the people you killed. Or their families. No one was ever punished for the lives lost or the damage that was done to this community. When I gave you a chance to man up – right here, six years ago – all you could do was knock me out and run. You’re nothing but a pathetic coward, Kelly, and you always will be.”


  “So where have you been for the past six years then?” Kelly sneered. “I don’t know how the fuck you got out of that crypt, but if disappearing and letting your family think you’re dead isn’t running away, I don’t know what is.”

  Conor’s jaw tightened. “If you really want to know, it was your wife who wanted people to think I was dead. She knew I couldn’t stay here and marry someone else, not when I was in love with her.”

  “It wasn’t like that,” Alison said, but Conor ignored her.

  “If she hadn’t been so terrified of you, we could have run away together, been happy together.”

  Kelly laughed scornfully. “Alison afraid of me? I don’t know what she’s been telling you, son, but you don’t know my wife very well …” He stopped suddenly. Confusion flickered across his features and his face fell. “Oh Christ, it was you. You let him out of the crypt that day, didn’t you? It’s been going on that long.”

  Alison looked silently at the ground.

  “Looks like you’re the one who doesn’t know your wife very well, Kelly,” Conor gloated as he repositioned the gun. “Now, are you going to let us leave, or do I have to do what I should have done six years ago?”

  Kelly faced him. “You wouldn’t have the nerve, son.” His sunken eyes made him look skeletal in the dim torchlight. “It takes a certain type to kill a man, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

  Alison flinched. “How did you know?”

  Conor’s eyes darted from Kelly to Alison. “Allie?”

  “It didn’t take a genius to work it out when I got the call from your boyfriend tonight. Heading off to collect Trevor at a party on the Malin Road on the same night as the accident, and then leaving him to get home in a taxi? Not like you, babe. Taking the Merc to the garage the next day before I could get a look at it.”

  Conor’s face froze. “What is he talking about?”

  Kelly ignored him. “What I don’t understand is – why? I thought Danny Devitt was a harmless old eejit. Isn’t that what you called him?”