by Val Collins
Aoife stopped herself from pointing out that Orla wouldn’t wait that long. Tadhg was so intelligent, sometimes she forgot how young he was.
*
Jason’s insistence that the police were no longer following up on Danny’s involvement in the Buckley murders worried Aoife. She didn’t think it was fair to give Maura false hope. If the police had dropped that line of enquiry, she was certain Moaney would have told her. She was googling newspaper reports about Triona Cashman’s disappearance when Tadhg came into her office.
‘Any idea where—’ He glanced at the screen. ‘That’s the girl your father-in-law gave a lift to, isn’t it? Orla told me about it.’ He moved closer to get a good look. ‘She was very pretty. Hard to believe she died not long after this photo was taken. Is that a pentagram she’s wearing around her neck?’
Aoife peered at the screen. Triona wore a silver pentagram on a thin chain. In the centre of the pentagram was a tiny design. When Aoife enlarged the photo, she could see tiny white stones spelled out “Triona”.
‘It looks expensive,’ Tadhg said. ‘Whoever killed Triona might have tried to sell it. It might be worth asking the police if she was wearing it the day she went missing. Have the police been in touch?’
Aoife shook her head. ‘I’m worried sick. I don’t want Amy going through life as the grandchild of a suspected serial killer.’
‘Maura seems to think the police have decided Danny wasn’t involved.’
‘That worries me too. If that were true, I’m pretty sure the detective would have been in touch by now.’
Tadhg perched on her desk. ‘So, ask him. What’s the worst that can happen?’
‘You’re right.’ She searched through her contacts and made the call. ‘Hi, Detective. This is Aoife Walsh. I was wondering if you have any update on the investigation into my father-in-law’s disappearance.’
‘Aoife!’ She could hear the smile in his voice. ‘No, I’m afraid I don’t have any news. I’ll phone you the minute there’s anything I can share.’
‘Have you ruled out the possibility that Danny was involved in those girls’ disappearance?’
‘We are still pursuing several lines of enquiry.’ He paused. ‘Aoife, you have to understand that I can’t discuss the details of my investigation with you.’
‘Right. One other thing. I was looking at the photo of the girl Danny gave a lift to. She’s wearing a silver chain with something that looks like a pentagram. Was Triona wearing that the night she was murdered?’
She could hear the detective rustling papers. ‘Apparently Triona made her own jewellery. That chain was a favourite. It disappeared the same time Triona did, so we’re assuming she was wearing it when she was abducted. As her body was never found, we can’t be certain.’
‘Did anybody ever try to trace it? It looks like it could be real silver. Her murderer might have tried to sell it.’
‘We looked into that. It appears expensive from a distance. Up close, apparently, it’s clearly worthless.’
‘Maybe the murderer didn’t know that and tried to sell it anyway.’
‘The report says anybody who touched it would know it had no value. But the original investigators did follow up on it. They put a photo of the chain on TV and asked if anybody had seen it. There were no useful leads. In my experience, the type of person who abducts young girls isn’t interested in their jewellery. It’s probably still on Triona’s body. If we ever find her, it will help with the identification.’
‘Could the murderer have taken the chain as a trophy?’
‘Again, in my experience, that’s highly unlikely. In the movies, serial killers are always keeping trophies. It gives the public the idea that this is the norm. In fact, it’s very rare. I can’t think of a single serial killer outside the US who was ever caught with trophies from their victims.’
Aoife paused. ‘Detective, this is a very difficult time for my family. If we didn’t have to worry that you were about to arrest Maura or that any minute the newspapers might announce that Danny was a serial killer, it would mean a great deal.’
‘I wish I could help, Aoife. All I can say is that we haven’t closed any of our lines of enquiry and that I will contact you personally the very minute I have any information that can be shared publicly.’
‘So you still think Maura may be a murderer?’
‘I have said all I can on the subject, Aoife. I really hope you can understand.’
‘Of course, Detective. Sorry to bother you.’
*
Tadhg had been listening to every word. ‘I don’t think it means anything, Aoife,’ he said when she disconnected the call. ‘If the police never discovered anything and the investigation stalled for years, they’d still say they were pursuing many different lines of enquiry and could neither confirm nor deny anything.’
‘So we have to live with this hanging over our heads for the rest of our lives? It was fifteen years ago, Tadhg. The murderer could have emigrated. He might even be dead. The police will probably never solve the case.’
Tadhg shrugged. ‘All the more reason not to worry about it. Danny couldn’t have been a murderer because Maura loved him. Maura’s one in a million, and I don’t believe she could love somebody who was capable of killing in cold blood.’
‘What if the police decide Maura murdered Danny?’
‘Only an idiot could come to that conclusion. Do you think this detective of yours is an idiot?’
Aoife stared at him. ‘This detective of mine?’
Tadhg laughed. He stood up. ‘Gotta go. It’s less than a week to Jack’s birthday. Loads to do. Bye.’
THIRTY-ONE
Aoife arrived home to find Jason sprawled on the couch watching TV. He hit the mute button when she came into the room.
‘Jason, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you at work?’
He sneezed. ‘I’ve got a cold. I’m not well. Can you hand me that box of tissues?’
The tissues were barely an arm’s length away. Aoife handed them to him.
‘Any chance you could make me a cup of tea?’
‘I just popped in to get my phone. I forgot it this morning. Can you make yourself tea? I have to collect Amy from the crèche.’
Jason sighed. ‘Okay, the tea can wait until you get back.’
*
‘Aoife!’
Aoife gritted her teeth. If he asked her for a drink one more time, she was going to pour it all over him. He had a cold for God’s sake. People went to work with a cold. They got up, did housework and took care of their kids. Jason was perfectly capable of making himself a cup of tea. It wasn’t like he had a terminal illness, or even a broken bone.
She opened the door. ‘Yes.’
‘My head is killing me. Could you take Amy out of the room? She’s making far too much noise.’
Amy was sitting at Jason’s feet, chatting quietly to her toy elephant.
‘She’s not making any noise, Jason.’
‘It’s too much for my head.’
‘Amy’s making far less noise than the TV and your head doesn’t seem to have a problem with that.’
Jason sat up. ‘I’m sorry, Aoife. Am I causing too much fuss? I’ll go upstairs and lie down. Do you mind if I make myself a cup of tea first? I’ll be very quick, and don’t worry about lunch. I don’t have much of an appetite.’ He stood up, put his hand on his forehead and sat down again. ‘I just got up too fast. I’m fine, really.’
Was she being unreasonable? Colds could develop into flu. Maybe Jason was sicker than she realised. She supposed Amy’s chatter could get annoying if you were in pain. And, well, really, how many times had she watched TV herself when she wasn’t feeling a hundred percent?
‘I’m sorry, Jason. I’m just tired. Stay where you are and I’ll bring you another cup of tea. Come on, Amy. Daddy needs to rest.’
Amy looked at her. She dropped her elephant and wrapped both arms around her father’s leg. ‘No!’
‘Would you lik
e to play bubbles, Amy? Let’s turn on the bubble machine.’
‘Bubble! Bubble!’ Amy squealed. She grabbed her elephant and ran out of the room.
‘Thanks, love,’ Jason said and turned back to his TV programme.
*
At 8:15 on Monday morning, Aoife pulled up outside Cian’s house. She felt guilty dropping Amy at the crèche so early, but she had to get out of the house. An entire weekend of Jason lounging on the couch and calling her every thirty seconds was more than enough.
The kitchen table was covered in paintings. Cian had his back to her and didn’t hear her entering. She watched him place one painting carefully into the frame and then cover it with another.
‘Morning, Cian.’
Cian jumped. ‘Aoife! You startled me.’ He looked at his watch. ‘You’re very early.’
‘I am a bit. What are you doing?’
‘I’ve taken down all my own paintings and I’m going to hide them in my bedroom until the critics are safely out of the house. They won’t all fit on the wall, so I have to put two paintings in some frames.’
‘Couldn’t you just lay the extra paintings against the floor? It would be less work.’
‘I could, but these paintings mean a lot to me. They may not be appreciated by art critics, but they’re my own work. I don’t want them to get damaged.’
The doorbell rang and Aoife answered it. ‘Tadhg! Everyone’s getting an early start today.’
Tadhg followed her into the kitchen. ‘I need to leave by three and Orla left me a list of things to do that’s a mile long. I figured the sooner I started the better. I’m going to see Bridget this afternoon.’ He grinned. ‘I can’t wait. Maura makes her sound like a bloodsucking vampire.’
Aoife laughed. ‘Why are you visiting Bridget?’
‘I need photos of Jack. Maura says Bridget is the most likely person to have them. I’m hoping for photos at every major stage in his life. I’ll have them blown up and pin them up all over the room for Wednesday’s party. Morning, Cian.’
Cian nodded. ‘Can you take these upstairs, Tadhg? Leave them against the wall in my bedroom until I get there. I’ll hang them myself.’
‘Sure.’ Cian grabbed three of the paintings.
‘One at a time, please. I don’t want them damaged.’
Tadhg looked at the mound of paintings. ‘That will take a while. Ah well, “no rest for the wicked” as my grandmother would say.’ He lifted one painting and carried it carefully out of the room. They heard him running up the stairs.
Cian frowned. ‘What do you think of Tadhg?’ he asked Aoife.
‘He’s fine. Seems like a nice kid. Why?’
‘I don’t know. Something about the way he looks at Orla bothers me.’
‘Really? I hadn’t noticed.’ Aoife glanced at her watch. ‘Look at the time! No point in arriving early if I’m going to hang around the kitchen all morning. I’ll type up today’s to-do list and I’ll have it on your desk in fifteen minutes.’ She hurried out of the room.
*
That evening, Aoife let herself into the house quietly. She had twenty minutes before she had to collect Amy from the crèche. With any luck Jason would be so engrossed in the TV he wouldn’t hear her come in and she could wash her hair and have a quick shower before leaving.
She was about to tiptoe up the stairs when the sitting room door opened and Jason came out.
‘Hi, Aoife. I’m going to make some tea. Would you like some?’
‘You’re feeling better.’
‘Yes, much better actually. I’ll go back to work tomorrow.’
‘Great. Well, I’ll have a shower and then I’ll get started on dinner. Can you collect Amy?’
‘I don’t think that would be a good idea. My dizziness isn’t completely gone and if anyone from work saw me, they’d think I was just pretending to be sick.’
‘Okay. I’ll collect her, then. Can you start dinner?’
‘You know I can’t cook.’
‘You don’t have to prepare anything. Dinner’s in the fridge. Just heat up the oven, peel potatoes, chop some broccoli and boil them.’
‘I don’t know, Aoife,’ he said doubtfully.
‘You can’t go wrong. Put the potatoes on now. Stick a knife in them after twenty minutes. If the knife goes through, they’re ready to eat. I’ll make Amy’s mash when I get home.’ Aoife made a mental note that no child of hers would ever leave home unable to look after themselves.
She took a bag of potatoes from the fridge and left them on the draining board. Jason was still frowning at them when she left.
When she returned, the casserole was in the oven. One half-peeled potato sat on the draining board. Jason was in the sitting room watching TV.
‘What happened?’ she asked him.
Jason held up a hand covered in a large plaster. ‘The dizziness mustn’t be completely gone yet. I cut my hand with the knife. I thought it was better not to risk doing any more.’ He looked at his watch. ‘The casserole should be ready in fifteen minutes.’
Aoife opened her mouth, thought better of it and went out to the kitchen.
*
On Tuesday Jason went back to work. Aoife had his meal prepared and Amy in bed when he got home. She sat opposite him while he ate, too stressed to do more than pick at her food and nod occasionally as he explained some problem he had at work. The second he swallowed his last mouthful, she said, ‘Jason, this isn’t working out.’
‘What isn’t working out?’
‘Us living together. The whole idea of you moving out was to give me time to think. How can I do that with you under my feet? I need you to move back to your mother’s.’
Jason gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘I drove you mad when I was sick, didn’t I? Mum always said I was a dreadful patient.’
‘It’s not only when you were sick, Jason. You’re here the whole time. You’re always under my feet. I can’t breathe.’
‘It’s okay, Aoife. I understand. I’m a dreadful patient, I know I’ve driven you mad the last few days. What you need is a break.’
‘That’s not what I need, Jason. I need—’
‘I mean a break from me.’
Aoife felt the tension seep out of her muscles. ‘You’ll move back to your mother’s?’
‘I don’t think that would be the best solution. It’s better for Amy that I’m here for her. I’d hardly see her if I was living with Mum.’
‘You don’t pay any attention to her as it is.’
‘Of course I do.’
‘You don’t, Jason. You watch TV or play with your phone. You never play with her. It’s like you don’t even see her most of the time.’
‘Really? I had no idea. I suppose it’s hard for me. I don’t remember how my dad was when I was a kid and I’m not sure what to do with her. I mean, it’s not like she’s capable of conversation. But it’s really important to me that Amy and I have a good relationship. I’ll work on it. I promise.’
‘Good.’
‘In the meantime, if you can put up with me for a little while longer, Ryan and a group of his friends are renting a house in Galway at the end of the month. I’ll take two weeks off work and go with them. I’ll even take Amy with me if you like.’
Aoife smiled. ‘A guys’ weekend wouldn’t be the best place for her. They’ll probably spend the entire time boozing. She’s better off here with me.’
‘Two weeks without me under your feet and you’ll feel differently, Aoife. You’ll see.’
‘It will help, Jason, but it’s not a long-term solution.’
‘You’re right. And we haven’t been working on our relationship, have we? What happened to our Friday date nights? We’ll stick to them rigidly when I get back. Okay?’
‘You don’t have to be living here for us to have a date night, Jason. In fact, I think they’d work better if we had a little time apart.’
‘Maybe, but what about my relationship with Amy? It will be a lot easier to work on that if we’re in t
he same house. Give it a try, Aoife. How about three months? Isn’t Amy worth putting up with me for another three months? If we break up eventually, it will be even more important that she and I have a strong foundation to work on.’
‘Okay. But only three months. After that, if it’s not working out, you go back to your mother’s house. Agreed?’
Jason smiled. ‘Agreed.’ He kissed her briefly on the lips. ‘But you’re going to miss me so much when I’m away that you’ll never want me to leave again. You’ll see.’
*
On Thursday morning, Aoife felt relaxed and happy as she let herself into the halfway house. It didn’t register with her that the kitchen was deserted and the entire house abnormally silent. She was thinking about Jason going to Galway for two weeks. Two whole weeks without him under her feet. An entire fourteen days to get herself together. She felt like she could breathe properly again. Jason was right. All she needed was a break. Jason was a pain when he got a cold, but then so were a lot of men. They didn’t call it the “man flu” for nothing. Since he’d moved back to the house, he’d irritated her in ways she couldn’t even have imagined when they were a couple. But irritation was no reason to break up a family. When Jason got back from his holiday, she would put all her thoughts and efforts into resurrecting their marriage. She would start a diary, she decided. Every day she would write down all the nice things Jason said and did. That would help her to concentrate on the positive. Each night she would re-read the entries and remind herself that Jason was the father of her child. Amy deserved a happy home with two loving parents, and it was up to Aoife to make sure she got it.
Aoife remembered a photo of herself and her parents on her first holiday abroad when she was a little older than Amy. Her parents had their arms around each other, and each had one hand on their daughter’s shoulder. All three were smiling up at the camera. That was the family Aoife wanted and she would make it happen.
‘Hi, Maura,’ she called, lost in her daydream. It took her a moment to notice that Maura hadn’t answered. She was standing looking out the window, her back to Aoife. ‘Maura? Are you okay?’ Maura turned, red-eyed, her face wet with tears. Aoife dropped her bag and ran towards her. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’