The Butterfly State

by Carol Coffey

“Oh yeah . . .” Flynn breathed slowly, looking straight at Moran.

  “Well, can you tell me anything about it?” Sam asked, starting to feel that he had misjudged the detective’s ego slightly. “I mean, you were one of a skilled team sent to investigate, weren’t you?”

  Flynn smiled broadly. “No, Moran, I was a gofer, only a wet day out of uniform. I mostly made tea and went for chocolate biscuits.” Flynn was enjoying the deflated look that was starting to show on Moran’s face and guessed that he hadn’t had anyone else to help him with his story. Flynn was no fool. He remembered the case well and he was the only one who had charged that girl with murder left on the force. Being a minor meant she went to some loony bin and he had thought about her often over the years. The two other detectives he went to Árd Glen with were about to retire when the murder occurred and were both dead now but he remembered the elation they felt when they charged her. “A cut and dried case,” Burke, the senior detective, had called it and they were thrilled to get out of the tiny hick town so quickly and back to where the real action was. He had tried to ignore the niggles he felt on the way back. Something wasn’t right about it but he was anxious to prove to his buddies on the force that he was more than his uncle’s sissy boy so said nothing. In the years to come, especially when he came up against real murderers, he often thought of her and felt that the girl was innocent but he had too much to lose by then to say anything. Anyway, there was so much evidence against her what could he have said? I have a hunch, an inkling? He would have been a laughing stock. It wasn’t the only dishonest thing he had done during his time on the force but you couldn’t count harassing drug dealers as a crime against humanity.

  Sam brought Flynn back from his reminiscing.

  “So you didn’t have anything to do with her arrest?”

  “No. As I said, I was only learning the ropes. The other two detectives who were in charge are both dead now so I’m sorry this journey was a waste of your time.” Flynn looked deliberately at his watch.

  Sam knew he was being dismissed but didn’t want to go without irking Flynn at least a little bit. He stood up.

  “Yeah, funny that, you know. The local garda, he remembered you well, said you seemed to have some responsibility there. He said you were somebody’s nephew or something like that. Still, I guess you wouldn’t want to be the only one left to have put an innocent girl into an institution for the best years of her life, would you?” He watched Flynn’s face go bright red, then he walked to the door. He knew he had hit a nerve. Flynn had known all along that the girl didn’t do it but had done nothing.

  Sam was tired. He had never worked on a story that shifted direction as much as this one did. At first he felt sorry for the murdered man, his life stolen from him in his prime. Then he felt sorry for the son, disinherited and facing ruin, all because the old man had resented the chap’s true parentage. Now, he felt sorry for the girl. Someone had framed her or at the very least left her to take the blame for their crime and had said nothing.

  “Thanks for your time,” he said and slammed the office door behind him, startling several policemen sitting outside at their desks. Smiling broadly at them, he said, “Sorry, folks, don’t know my own strength, have a nice day!” Coming from a family of street traders, he was not a fan of the police.

  Seán awoke from a fitful sleep to find his younger sister standing over him yet again.

  “What – what the fuck do ya want, ya mad bitch?” he yelled.

  Tess, startled by Seán’s sudden shouting, ran from the room and hid beneath her bed. He lay back and decided he would have to get a lock for his bedroom door. He had caught her trying to hang her “Butterfly State” sign at the front gate the day before and he had ripped it down, telling her that it was stupid. She picked up the sign and stood staring at him with her huge blue eyes. The bitch gave him the creeps. He realised weeks back that he was afraid of her although exactly what he thought she was going to do, he didn’t know. He thought she was harmless enough as a child but now, well, he wasn’t so sure. He could hear the nurse visiting and decided not to get up until she was gone.

  Deirdre O’Connell was making progress with Ben’s independent living skills and Kate was relieved that her brother no longer screamed when Deirdre touched him. He was even learning to dress himself, shoving Kate away when she tried to hurry him each morning.

  When she was finished, Deirdre followed Kate to the kitchen where she was busy making tea.

  “Ah, you’re finished, Deirdre. I was just making a fresh pot. Will ya have a cup?”

  “Yeah, thanks. That was good news about Tess’s course. Had you heard of ANCO before?”

  “Yes, the new training place. But I’m surprised they accepted her because, well, it’s not for girls like Tess, is it?”

  “I think Tess will do very well there, Kate. You know it’s in Knockbeg. The local bus goes there a few times a day so she’ll have no trouble getting there and back.”

  Kate remained silent for what seemed to Deirdre a long time. Although she already knew what was worrying Kate, she decided not to speak but to wait until Kate came out and said what was on her mind.

  “Tess has never gone to anything like that before. She went to a special school and then to the hospital where people understood her. If there’s going to be normal people there, Deirdre, won’t they laugh at her?”

  “We prefer not to use the word ‘normal’. Tess is intelligent, Kate, and she deserves this chance. She’ll have to go out into the world sooner or later. You can’t always be at her side.”

  “I know, but she’s so innocent, Deirdre. What if I got Dermot to drive her there and collect her? She’s not used to dealing with money or anything like that.”

  “I’ll work on all of that before she starts. We have the whole summer to sort it out. If she’s too nervous, we’ll take a step back and go with the flow until she is more settled. You need to be in full support of this, Kate. It won’t work otherwise. She values your opinion so much. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Kate replied quietly, already visualising all the horrible things that could happen to Tess out in the real world.

  Chapter 20

  1971

  Tess Byrne sat upright when the door of her classroom swung open, a tall black boy entering loudly and accidentally slamming the door behind him. She had never seen this boy before, nor had she ever seen a black person before and stared hard at him as he sat in the seat opposite her. Other pupils looked around at the boy, some jeering as he passed, one pupil kicking him hard in the shin. Tess noticed that he did not flinch although it must have hurt. She also noticed that he did not hit back or bite as she would have done.

  “Right, class, that’s enough noise. Leroy, welcome back. I hope you kept your studies up while you were in hospital.”

  “Yes, ma’am, I sure did,” the coloured child replied in a strong American drawl, much to the amusement of the other children who laughed loudly.

  “That’s enough!” the teacher shouted, silencing the small group.

  At lunch-time, the pupils moved slowly out of the class to the small room where they ate their meals. Tess could feel her mouth working on sentences, things she really wanted to ask this boy. She never spoke to the other children, only to Dr Cosgrove and occasionally the blonde nurse whose foreign name Tess could never pronounce. She sat facing the boy and continued to stare at him, oblivious to her behaviour. Leroy grinned at Tess, revealing the whitest teeth she had ever seen. She reached out her hand to touch his skin but pulled back, anxious not to lose six more steps towards home and not wanting to be slapped.

  “You never see a coloured boy before, Miss?”

  “No,” Tess replied much to the amazement of her fellow pupils who had never heard her speak. “You talk strange.”

  Leroy seemed to be enjoying the attention and didn’t appear remotely offended. “Tha’s ’cos I’m American,” he replied proudly causing the other pupils to spit their food out with laughter.

  Tes
s looked around at the others, unsure what they were laughing at.

  “Why were you in hospital, Leroy?” she asked.

  “I had to get my appendix out,” Leroy replied, his American accent strengthening with every sentence.

  “Ya should have got your brain ou’ while ya were there with tha’ stupa accent, Leroy!” one of the rougher boys shouted. “Anyway, retard,” he said to Tess, “tha’s not his real name. It’s Declan – Declan Brennan and he’s a fuckin’ nutter – isn’t that righ’, Declan?”

  Before Tess had a chance to ask Leroy if this was true, he jumped from his bench and grabbed the boy, holding him in a strong headlock and punching him in the head until they were separated by two orderlies. Tess, afraid of the noise, hid under one of the benches while the other children shouted with excitement.

  “Jaysus, Declan,” one of the orderlies said as they hauled Leroy off, “you’re only back one day and you’re in trouble.”

  Tess watched as Leroy was taken away. He looked back and smiled at her, waving to the group until he disappeared out of sight. Tess sat down and finished her lunch. She was interested in this boy and hoped that she would see him again.

  Kate heard Seán vomiting early in the morning again but had not roused to help him, hoping once more the experience would prevent him from drinking again. By mid-afternoon he got up and Kate silently placed some food in front of him.

  “What’s that face for, Kate? Have I not got the right to go for a pint when I fancy one?”

  “You have no right to drink the little bit of cash we have, Seán, no. And I thought you would have seen enough drunkenness to last you a lifetime.”

  Seán remained silent for a time, head bowed like a naughty child. His head hurt and his stomach was sick. He couldn’t understand how people did this to themselves regularly.

  “I’m sorry, Kate, you’re right. I . . . well, I just don’t know where to turn. What are we going to do, Kate? The police are investigating the will. I told the solicitor I knew nothing about it. We can’t sell any of the livestock, there’s no money coming in. We’re ruined, Kate.”

  Kate listened, her face calm, giving away nothing of the anger that was rising inside her.

  “It’s all about you, Seán, isn’t it? Poor Seán! Nothing is going your way. Well, I’ve lost too you know. Has it occurred to you that I was due to be married this weekend? Did you think of that while you were out drowning your sorrows? It hasn’t gone quite the way either of us planned, I know, but you wallowing in self-pity won’t get us anywhere.”

  Seán quietened. Kate was right. He hadn’t thought of her at all in all of this and suddenly felt a pang of guilt, not because Kate’s marriage was off but because he was glad he still had her. He needed her. She was the strength behind him; she was also a lot smarter than he was. He couldn’t let her know what a weak, selfish and shallow person he was though and he knew he had to think of the right words to calm her down.

  “I’m sorry, Kate. I’m just worried for all of us. We need to stick together. No more fighting, eh? We have Ben to consider. I won’t touch another drop. I’ll go to Brown & Son and see what we can do about the farm.” He looked squarely at his sister to see if his words had any effect. He knew the mention of Ben would calm her.

  She did look more composed. Women, he though smugly to himself, always a sucker for the child.

  Seán braved yet another savage hangover and drove to Brown & Son’s offices to speak to the young solicitor. Kate was still annoyed with him about his visit to the pub and the icy atmosphere in the house was enough to make him drive anywhere to get away from her. Admittedly, he had drunk more of their dwindling savings but even though he still hated the taste of alcohol, he felt happy and a little numb after he’d had a few and worries of Tess disappeared from his mind. He had still not been to see her. He just couldn’t face it and the longer he left it, the harder it was becoming. His biggest concern, being being his age and owning nothing, seemed almost like a bad dream when he was under the influence. When he woke each morning, he longed for that feeling again, the peace of intoxication. It was not how he had planned his life though. He’d had great plans for the farm and before Michael had died he had already reclaimed two small fields which his grandfather and “father” had never bothered to do.

  At the solicitor’s office, Ciaran Brown greeted Seán like a long-lost friend.

  “Seán! Welcome. How are things?”

  Seán still didn’t like the young, upbeat man and found himself enviously eyeing up his clean-shaved, handsome face and expensive suit. He felt that the solicitor probably hadn’t a worry in the world. He also hated that he had to come here and discuss such private problems with this man who surely mustn’t have a clue what hardship was.

  Seán eventually spoke. “Well, no change. I found out the will my em – father wrote here in ’61 is still valid. He left everything to my youngest sister. I am to run the farm until she comes of age. There was a second will but it was never signed, leaving everything to my brother who is just a baby.” Seán couldn’t look up at the solicitor when he said that part but continued. “I understand that this will is void because it was never signed but the first will isn’t really much better. Tess is retarded, she’ll never run the farm herself but I have to look after it for her until she turns twenty-one. It’s a joke.”

  Ciaran Brown sat still for some time before he spoke.

  “You could challenge the will but you know how that would look locally,” Brown advised.

  Sean knew what he meant. Everyone would know about his true parentage then and he couldn’t risk that getting out.

  “I suggest you organise a doctor to sign an affidavit, stating she couldn’t possibly run the farm and arrange for you to become her guardian. How old is she?”

  “Eleven. She’s in – an institution.” Seán felt himself redden mentioning the institution and couldn’t understand why. After all, she belonged there, didn’t she?

  Brown made no comment. “Right then. Well, after you become her legal guardian you will be in a position to run the farm for her. Will she live permanently away from home?”

  “No. They’re trying to sort out a few problems with her. She’ll be back whenever they say she’s ready.”

  “Right then, Seán. Well, I’d organise to get those letters as soon as possible. Will she understand she’s been left the farm?”

  “No,” Seán lied. “Does she have to know? I mean, it’s too upsetting to visit her.”

  “Well, if you say she wouldn’t understand and you become her guardian, I see no reason why she has to be told but you’ll need a doctor to state her level of incapacity. The papers will then have to go to your father’s solicitor. But then you’ll be able to manage the farm the same as though you owned it. I’m sure you’ll look after your sister’s interests.” Ciaran rose from his seat and offered Seán his hand. “Let me know if there is anything else I can do for you. The deeds of the farm will remain at Roberts & Holford as well as any other legal business your father had but I anticipate that Brown & Co will have the opportunity to handle your own legal affairs?”

  “Yes, of course,” Seán replied quietly.

  He wasn’t sure what “anticipate” meant but he wasn’t going to let Brown know that. As Seán walked back to his truck, the words “manage the farm as though you owned it” grated on him. Large veins began to bulge on his forehead and neck as his temper flared.

  When he reached the battered truck he noticed he had parked right outside the local pub. He’d just have the one before heading home . . .

  Chapter 21

  1981

  Sam Moran sat quietly at the dinner party organised for his father-in-law’s birthday. He hated these uppity evenings and felt like a fish out of water. He never felt comfortable in the company of “middle-class” people and now that they were settled back into life in Ireland, he often looked at Mona as though she were a stranger. She had been wild when they met in England, carefree and down to eart
h, and they’d had great times together, out on the town in London. Those days seemed like million miles away as he watched her walk confidently around the room, mixing with people that he felt intimidated by.

  He was just about to get himself another stiff whiskey when he noticed his boss, Talbot, walking towards him, his face grim.

  “Moran, I thought I’d catch up with you here,” he said in a voice a little too loud. “Where the hell is that story?”

  “I’m having trouble getting people to talk. You know how it is in this place.” Sam cringed. Wrong thing to say!

  “I don’t know what you mean by ‘this place’, Moran, but I’ll tell you this much: you haven’t shown up to do your regular stories for weeks now. I’ve had to send my youngest son to cover the mart. These stories are the bread and butter of this paper. Sales are slipping, Moran. I need to have something to leave my son in my will so don’t you disappoint me. You have two more weeks and then forget it.”

  Sam smiled as his angry boss strode back across the room. He noticed Mona staring at him crossly.

  People were all the same around here. It was all about wills and inheritance. Sam’s own parents had left him nothing more than an out-of-date street traders’ licence and two hefty funeral bills. Neither of them would even have known what a will was, never mind worrying about what to leave their children.

  That was it. The will. He needed to read Byrne’s will. If he had that, he would surely know who had a motive to kill him.

  Tess stood still as Kate inspected her face and hands. The training programme was starting on Monday and she had torn the skin off her lips and fingers because of the worry of the change to her routine.

  “Tess, you’ll have to stop doing this to yourself,” Kate said as calmly as she could. It upset her to see her sister like this.

  “I know, Kate. I apologise,” Tess replied, knowing that she would do the same thing tonight as she lay in bed. Kate had phoned the centre several times to find out what time lunch was and what the timetable was going to be but no one had returned her calls and Tess had become more and more frantic with questions.