Only Lies Remain: A Psychological Thriller

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by Val Collins




  Only Lies Remain

  Val Collins

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organisations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved

  ©Val Collins 2019

  The main character in this book is Aoife. This is a very common Irish name and is pronounced “Eee-fah”.

  Two minor characters are called Tadhg and Cian. Both are common Irish names. Tadhg is pronounced like ‘Tiger’ without the ‘er’. Cian is pronounced ‘Key-en’

  If you would like to hear these names pronounced, check out the video on my Instagram page here: http://bit.ly/Aoife-Tadhg-Cian

  Contents

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THIRTY-FIVE

  THIRTY-SIX

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  THIRTY-NINE

  FORTY

  FORTY-ONE

  FORTY-TWO

  FORTY-THREE

  FORTY-FOUR

  FORTY-FIVE

  FORTY-SIX

  FORTY-SEVEN

  FORTY-EIGHT

  FORTY-NINE

  FIFTY

  FIFTY-ONE

  FIFTY-TWO

  FIFTY-THREE

  FIFTY-FOUR

  FIFTY-FIVE

  FIFTY-SIX

  FIFTY-SEVEN

  FIFTY-EIGHT

  FIFTY-NINE

  SIXTY

  SIXTY-ONE

  SIXTY-TWO

  SIXTY-THREE

  SIXTY-FOUR

  SIXTY-FIVE

  SIXTY-SIX

  SIXTY-SEVEN

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  ONE

  The news ended, but the murderer didn’t notice. The room grew dark and the mug of tea cooled. At last the murderer rose and began pacing the room, muttering, ‘Could I have misheard? No, of course I didn’t. After all this time! What am I going to do? They can trace DNA in ways that weren’t even imagined fifteen years ago. What if they find a hair, or saliva or whatever else it is that they examine? Will the police arrest me? A good solicitor could convince a jury that DNA evidence is unreliable, couldn’t he? I can’t spend the rest of my life in prison—and, hell, I shouldn’t have to. It’s not like I wanted to kill him. These things happen. But nobody would ever understand how it was. They’d never believe it wasn’t my fault. People need someone to blame. But the truth is some tragedies are nobody’s fault. He didn’t want to die, I didn’t want to kill him, but it happened anyway. It was fate. His and mine. You can’t fight fate. You just have to accept it.’

  TWO

  It was the same each time. The minute the house came into sight, it started. ‘Breathe in…hold…breathe out,’ Aoife muttered to herself. She really needed to get a grip. It wasn’t like she was expecting a confrontation. Maura wouldn’t say anything. Aoife knew that. But the very fact that there was bad feeling between them sent Aoife into a minor panic every time they met.

  By the time she reached the front door, Aoife’s heartbeat had almost returned to normal. She rang the doorbell and waited. Amy’s light feet raced across the wooden floor, and a moment later her little nose pressed against the narrow glass panel that ran the height of the door.

  ‘Mama!’

  ‘Hi, sweetie.’ Aoife waved at her.

  ‘Mama! Mama!’ Amy turned and bolted down the corridor, shouting, ‘Nana!’ A few seconds later she returned alone, wailing, ‘Mama!’, her tiny fists banging on the glass panel.

  Aoife searched her bag for the key she hadn’t used in almost six months.

  ‘Mama!’ Amy leaped into her arms.

  Aoife swung her around and Amy screeched with laughter.

  ‘Where’s Nana!’

  ‘Nana sick.’

  ‘Sick! Maura?’ She put Amy on the ground and headed for the kitchen. Amy raced ahead of her.

  Maura met them at the doorway. ‘Sorry, Aoife. I was just coming.’

  Her face was pale and had the wretched look that only came from bitter tears. Toys, which Maura normally stored in the playpen, were strewn all over the kitchen floor. Amy was rooting through them, flinging them in all directions.

  ‘What are your toys doing on the floor?’ Aoife asked.

  ‘Man. Big man.’

  ‘What man?’

  ‘Moaney,’ Amy said.

  ‘Moaney? What’s going on, Maura? Are you okay?’

  ‘Detective Moloney called earlier. He gave Amy some toys to play with while we talked. He had some upsetting news.’

  ‘Detective Moloney!’ Aoife gripped the countertop. ‘Was he looking for me?’

  ‘You’ve spoken to him? Of course, you met him when you worked in DCA. He was the detective who handled the murder investigation, wasn’t he? I’d forgotten you knew each other. Why didn’t you say anything, Aoife? Things may be difficult between us, but I didn’t deserve to hear news like that from a stranger.’

  Amy pushed between them and thrust a book at Aoife. ‘Book.’

  ‘Not now, sweetie.’

  ‘Book. Now!’

  Aoife picked up Amy and put her in the playpen. ‘Read a story to your dolls. I have to talk to Nana.’

  Amy’s face puckered. Aoife had never put her in the playpen before.

  Aoife opened the book and placed it on the floor of the playpen. ‘Wouldn’t your dollies love to hear about the beautiful princess?’

  Without waiting for an answer, she took the teabags from the cupboard and filled the kettle. A glance showed Amy lining up the dolls in readiness for her words of wisdom.

  ‘What did Detective Moloney tell you?’ she asked, putting two mugs on the glass table.

  ‘Only the basics. They found him somewhere in the city centre.’ Maura reached for the mug, then shoved it to one side. ‘You probably know more than I do.’

  ‘I haven’t spoken to Detective Moloney in over six months. Who did they find?’

  ‘Oh God! Well, I suppose you’ll find out sooner or later. I’ll have to tell the boys tonight.’

  ‘Tell them what?’

  ‘Their father. He’s dead.’

  ‘Oh no! Oh, Maura, I’m so sorry. He’d come back to Ireland?’

  Maura shook her head.

  ‘Jason will be devastated. I know he always says he hates him, but deep down I think he hoped his dad would get in touch someday. If only so he could scream abuse at him for abandoning you.’

  ‘But that’s the thing, Aoife. Danny didn’t abandon us.’

  ‘He may have sent you money, Maura but he still disappeared without a word.’

  ‘Not willingly. He was murdered.’

  ‘What! When?’

  ‘Fifteen years ago. Remember a few weeks back, a body was found in the grounds of that old house
in the city centre? They just identified him as Danny.’

  ‘But—I don’t understand, Maura. How could Danny be dead for fifteen years? I thought he sent you money every month.’

  ‘So did I.’

  *

  Aoife was filling Orla in on the news when she thought she heard a noise.

  ‘Hang on a sec.’ She stood at the bottom of the stairs and listened. ‘Sorry, I thought I heard Amy moving around.’ She settled back on the sofa. ‘What did you ask me?’

  ‘Who found the body?’

  ‘Some guy working on a building site. The house had been deserted for years. Something to do with a disputed will, I think. Then there was some problem with planning permission, but a few months back it was sold to a developer. There was a bit of land around it, so he decided to knock down the house and build an apartment block. They’d been working on the site a few days before they found human bones.’

  ‘Do they know how he died?’

  ‘He was stabbed in the back.’

  ‘They can be that precise after fifteen years?’

  ‘The knife nicked the spine. Apparently damage to bones leaves a permanent mark that can be identified even centuries later.’

  ‘Why would someone stab him? He wasn’t into anything illegal, was he?’

  ‘I don’t know, Orla. I doubt it. He worked in a bank.’

  ‘It must have been awkward, having to talk to Maura when she was upset.’

  ‘A bit. It’s been a while since we had a proper conversation. I felt sorry for her. I think she feels she let him down.’

  ‘Her husband? How?’

  ‘By believing he’d run off and left her. Other families go on the radio and TV and make sure the whole country knows about the missing person. If Maura had done that, Danny’s body might have been found years ago.’

  ‘Far better for her that it wasn’t.’

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘If they’d found her husband years ago, Maura wouldn’t have received that money every month. How would she have managed?’

  ‘That’s another thing, Orla. Who would send her money?’

  ‘Someone in the family? Didn’t you say she wasn’t in contact with her husband’s family? Some big row?’

  ‘I’m not sure what happened. Jason says they never spoke.’

  ‘So presumably she wouldn’t have accepted money from them. Someone in the family probably pretended the money was from Danny so she would take—’ The doorbell rang. ‘Oh, that’s Robbie. We’re off to the new club I was telling you about. I have to go.’

  Aoife could hear a deep voice in the background. She had no idea who Robbie was, but Orla’s conquests came and went so quickly there wasn’t much point in remembering their names.

  ‘When did you say your next interview was, Aoife?’

  ‘Tuesday.’

  ‘Great, let’s meet for lunch. You can tell me the whole story then. Bye.’

  *

  Aoife knew it wouldn’t be long before Jason arrived, but when she heard his key in the front door, she felt a flash of irritation. How many times did she have to ask him not to use that key? She shook her head. What was wrong with her? Her husband was going through a crisis and she was worrying about keys.

  Jason walked into the kitchen, head slumped.

  ‘Sweethear—Jason!’ She put her arms around him and he buried his head in her neck. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  She could hear his muffled sobs. ‘Come on, sit down and I’ll get you a drink. Did you bring the car?’

  Jason nodded.

  ‘You can leave it here. I’ll drive you home.’ She had the whiskey waiting on the worktop. ‘Drink this.’ She took the seat opposite him.

  ‘I hated him.’

  ‘You thought he’d abandoned you.’

  Jason didn’t appear to hear. ‘But now when I think back on it, I can’t understand why I felt that way. He was a good dad. He spent all his spare time with us. We had everything we needed. He didn’t drink or waste all our money, and I can’t remember him ever losing his temper. How could I go from loving him one day to hating him the next? Why didn’t I give him the benefit of the doubt?’

  ‘You were a kid, Jason. You were angry that somebody you loved could turn his back on you.’

  ‘It wasn’t just anger. It was so much stronger than that, and Dad hadn’t done anything to deserve it.’ Jason took a gulp of the whiskey and had a fit of coughing. ‘I know this is daft, Aoife’—he struggled to catch his breath—‘but I have a picture in my head of Dad sitting in some other world looking down at us. He’s got this expression that’s halfway between hurt and anger, and I know what he’s thinking. He—Aoife, if I could never see you again, it would destroy me. But if you hated me as well—how could we do that to him?’

  ‘If your dad is looking down on you, he understands. Anger is part of grief. I know that from my own experience.’

  ‘You don’t know, Aoife. You can’t even imagine the effect something like that can have on a young kid.’ Jason sipped the whiskey and grimaced. ‘You never thought your parents abandoned you. You always knew how they died. When Dad left, it killed something in me.’ He took another sip and coughed again. ‘This is awful. Don’t you have any wine?’

  ‘I thought you’d need something stronger.’ Amy took a bottle of wine from the wine rack, wiped the dust off the screw top and poured him a glass.

  ‘Thanks.’ Jason took three large gulps. ‘Even at ten, I knew nothing would ever be the same. I never really trusted anyone again. Not even Mum. For years I came home from school expecting to find she’d left us too. And even when I was older—it’s the reason we split up, isn’t it?’

  Aoife nodded. It wasn’t the time to point out that Jason’s fear of abandonment was only part of their problems.

  ‘Can I stay here tonight?’

  ‘I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Jason.’

  ‘I’ll sleep in the spare room. Please. I can’t go back to Mum’s. She spent the whole evening talking about what a great husband and father Dad was. I can’t listen to any more. I feel guilty enough.’

  ‘Of course you can stay.’

  THREE

  Aoife sat in the basement of Fallon & Byrne’s in Exchequer Street. Her book was propped in front of her as she sipped her soup. Most people Aoife knew preferred the upstairs restaurant. Orla practically lived there. Even Aoife’s Mother & Toddler group trekked all the way from Kildare every few months just for a special lunch. Aoife preferred the basement. For one thing, it was cheaper. Normally she avoided basements because she found the lack of natural light depressing, but the thing she loved about the basement in Fallon & Byrne was the long wooden tables. Everybody sat together, so even when you were alone, you never felt uncomfortable, and there was so much chatter you could have quite personal conversations without worrying you would be overheard.

  ‘Sorry I’m late.’ Orla put her tray down on the table and flung her fur-lined aviator jacket on the back of her chair. ‘How was the interview?’

  ‘Terrible. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I was never great at interviews, but at least I could give the impression of being reasonably articulate. These days I’m not far short of a babbling idiot.’

  ‘It’s stress. After—’

  ‘Is that your phone, Orla?’

  Orla pulled the vibrating iPhone from her Gucci backpack. ‘Hi, Tanya… No, not today. I’m meeting Aoife for lunch.…Okay, bye. Sorry Aoife, I just have to take it off silent.’ She fiddled with the phone for a few seconds, then stuffed it into the backpack, which she shoved under her chair. ‘Where were we? Oh yeah, you’re just stressed. After all, you barely survived your last job. Who could blame you for being nervous about working again?’

  ‘Well, I’m going to have to get it together soon. I’m worried Jason will stop giving me child support now he’s moved back in.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Oh, I’m sure he’ll pay the bills and give me money for housekeeping, but I don’t want us
falling back into old habits. I need to be financially independent.’

  ‘You didn’t tell me you were back together.’

  ‘We’re not. Jason was so upset the night he found out about his father that I said he could stay. I thought it would only be for one or two nights, but at the weekend he moved his things into the spare room.’

  ‘And you let him?’

  ‘I said he couldn’t move back into the house without even asking me. He said he wasn’t moving back. He was only staying for a few days until his mother got herself together.’

  ‘How long is that going to take?’

  ‘I don’t know. She seems fairly okay to me. Jason says she puts on a brave face in public but cries the rest of the time. He says he can’t cope with her.’

  ‘He’s not going to learn to cope from your house. Tell him it’s time he went back to Maura’s and learned to deal with it.’

  ‘He’s still my husband, Orla, and he’s not coping either. He’s barely eating and he paces the house half the night. I can’t make things harder for him.’

  ‘One of his brothers can put him up.’

  ‘Ryan’s the closest and he lives in Navan. It would be a two-hour round trip every time he wanted to see Amy.’

  ‘Do you want Jason living in your house, Aoife?’

  ‘I don’t know. I mean, I think I want us to get back together again but—’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘I know I want the marriage I thought I had. But that only existed in my head. I don’t want Jason to move back if we’re going to continue the way we were before, and I’m not convinced he can change.’

  ‘Didn’t the marriage counselling help?’

  ‘I don’t know. The counsellor said I have to understand that Jason doesn’t mean to be controlling. He’s afraid I’ll leave him, just like his dad deserted him when he was a kid.’

  ‘Didn’t you already know that?’

  Aoife nodded. ‘I knew. It didn’t make it any easier to cope with his behaviour.’

  ‘Did Jason learn anything?’

  ‘He says he accepts he was too controlling. But I see the way he looks at me when we’re around other men. He doesn’t say anything anymore, but I’m pretty certain he’s the same Jason underneath.’

 

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