PJ hesitated before he spoke.
‘Why did she never say that she’d seen him that day?’
‘She didn’t want to upset me. She was just trying to protect me, that’s all. I’m sure she’ll tell you everything now when you ask her.’ Evelyn looked up at him and slowly balled the piece of material into her fist.
PJ looked down at her. He didn’t want to upset her either. He wanted to protect her, but he knew he couldn’t.
‘Evelyn, there’s something you should know.’
‘Yes?’ There was something in the way she had leaned forward on the pallets that made her seem much younger. She looked like a girl.
‘The body. The first body that was found has now been identified as Tommy Burke’s.’
Her face went blank and then a look of horror crept over it.
‘How? You told us that it wasn’t.’
PJ thought of how best to explain it to her. ‘More tests were carried out and … it’s definitely Tommy.’
Evelyn sprang to her feet.
‘But if he came back, then surely he would have … Why didn’t he …’
She sank back down on the pallets and pressed what remained of the scarf to her mouth to muffle her sobs. PJ wondered if he should try to give her a hug or even place a hand on her shoulder, but the figure hunched in the corner seemed beyond any comfort. He opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. Instead he slipped away silently, knowing it was the right thing to do but still feeling like a coward. Halfway across the yard, he noticed Bobby at his heels. PJ glanced back at the door of the outbuilding. Evelyn was all alone.
Back in his car, he looked at his watch. It was nearly twelve. He knew he should probably wait for Linus, but he wanted to speak to Abigail before she was discharged. He liked the idea of her being confined to bed. It made her seem weak and vulnerable. He felt that if he waited till she got back to Ard Carraig she would have regained her strength and would be able to bat away his questions with her familiar haughtiness. He really did not like that woman.
At Ballytorne Hospital, PJ was just going up the steps to the main entrance when Abigail herself appeared at the doors holding a small overnight bag.
‘The very woman I was coming to see!’ he called. Abigail looked down at him with a confused expression on her face, almost as if she didn’t recognise him, or, if she did, couldn’t fathom why he had chosen to address her. PJ climbed the last couple of steps so that he was standing beside her.
‘I needed to ask you some more questions about Tommy Burke now that we know it was him buried on the site.’
Abigail’s eyebrows arched, opening her eyes wide and literally gave PJ a sideways glance. ‘Really? Are you sure this time?’
‘Yes, Miss Ross, we’re certain.’
‘Well what a pity you didn’t figure that out months ago. It might have saved a great deal of upset. I wonder who messed that up?’ Abigail asked in a tone that suggested she knew exactly whose incompetence it had been.
PJ took a deep breath. ‘Are you heading back to Ard Carraig? I can give you a lift in the Garda car.’
‘Thank you but I have my own car. One of the Lyons boys dropped it in for me last night.’ She took a step down as if the subject was now closed. PJ put a hand on her arm and she stopped sharply. ‘Sergeant?’ She glared at him.
‘I think it’s best if you come with me. One of the Ballytorne uniformed lads can drop your car out later.’
Their eyes were locked and PJ wondered what his next move would be if she refused, but then Abigail broke her stare and said with a studied nonchalance, ‘Well, if you insist.’ She continued down the steps and PJ followed her.
Once they were in his car, she began to rummage through her bag with increasing agitation.
‘Anything wrong?’ PJ enquired.
‘They must be here somewhere. My keys.’
PJ watched her churning through the contents of the small bag.
‘Isn’t that infuriating? I don’t think I have them. Sergeant, I wonder, could you run in to the reception desk and ask someone to check the little bedside locker?’ She turned and gave him a warm smile. It struck him that he had never seen her actually smile before. It didn’t suit her.
‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ he said.
The nurse behind the desk looked familiar. Was she the one he’d seen with Anthony Riordan? He couldn’t be certain; they all looked the same to him really. A call was made to the ward and instructions were given for the search. PJ waited, leaning on the reception desk, idly glancing at the small piles of leaflets. Cancer support groups. Montessori schools. Sponsored runs for the hospice. So many people trying to make the world a better place; it made him feel weary. The nurse was talking to him. No sign of the keys.
‘Well, thanks for looking.’
He made his way back to the car, wondering how this news would go down with Abigail. He imagined that he wouldn’t be seeing her smile again any time soon, but as he got to the door, he could see that that was precisely what she was doing. He sat behind the wheel and she held up a little key ring and rattled it in front of his face. ‘I’m a fool. They were here the whole time. I’d put them in the little zip pocket and forgotten.’
‘Great.’
PJ put his own key into the ignition to start the engine, but it didn’t respond. He checked he was in neutral and pressed the clutch, but still there was nothing.
‘That’s odd.’
‘What?’
‘The car doesn’t want to start.’ He jiggled the key and made sure the steering wheel wasn’t locked. No response. He could feel Abigail staring at him. Of course this would happen with her in the car. He considered getting out and looking at the engine, but what was the point? He would have no idea what he was looking at, and it would just give his passenger more opportunity to think less of him.
‘Sorry about this. I’m going to phone the barracks here in town and see if they can lend me a car. It shouldn’t take too long.’
‘All right. Though of course I do have the solution right here.’ Abigail held up her key ring. ‘We could go in my car.’
PJ hesitated. That would be the quickest way out. He had visions of a very impatient Linus waiting at Ard Carraig.
‘What’s the matter? Are you too nervous to let me drive you?’ Abigail was smiling again. God, it was unsettling.
‘Fine. We’ll take yours.’
PJ would never have admitted it to her face, but he was quietly impressed by Abigail’s driving. She was confident behind the wheel and responded well in the traffic as they made their way through the busy lunchtime streets of Ballytorne.
He felt he should ease into his enquiries, so he began by asking her how she was feeling.
‘Much better. It’s a very simple procedure. It’s all done with some sort of scope. I was a little uncomfortable afterwards, but really I’m fine.’
‘Good. Good.’
They drove in silence for a mile or so, and then Abigail spoke.
‘So have you been talking to Evelyn?’
‘I have, yes.’ PJ wondered what direction this conversation was going to take.
‘Did you tell her your new theory that it was Tommy that was found after all?’
‘I did.’
‘And how did that go? She was upset, I imagine.’
‘A little, yes. She told me about you seeing him getting on the bus.’
‘Yes. Sorry about that, Sergeant. I just didn’t think it was that important, and she must have explained why I didn’t tell her back then.’
‘Yes. Yes she did.’
More silence. They were coming down the hill into Duneen now. PJ spoke.
‘It seems odd that we can’t find anyone else who saw him leaving that day.’
‘Really? It was a long time ago. Why would anyone remember?’
‘What’s stranger still is that not one person mentioned that he came back.’
‘Came back? What do you mean?’
‘You
saw him go, but his remains were found here in Duneen, so at some point he must have returned.’
‘Oh yes. I see. Yes, that must be what happened.’
‘And nobody noticed. Even though the whole village must have been talking about him running off.’
The entrance to Ard Carraig was coming up on the left-hand side. PJ waited for Abigail to slow down, but instead she pressed her foot against the accelerator and drove straight past the old grey walls and narrow gates.
‘What?’ PJ looked helplessly out of the window. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Sorry, Sergeant. It’s just that if we’re going to talk about this, I’d prefer to do it in the car. I don’t want Evelyn having to hear it all again.’
PJ didn’t like this turn of events, but nor was he sure what he should do. Insisting that she turn the car around or stop seemed somewhat heavy-handed, and if she refused, he’d be in an even worse situation than he was already in.
‘What were you saying, Sergeant?’
‘I was wondering why nobody saw Burke’s big homecoming.’
‘I know that, Sergeant, but what is it you’re really saying?’ The atmosphere in the car had changed. Abigail’s voice had an icy tone. PJ looked at her. A small muscle was twitching in her jaw and her eyes were staring straight ahead.
‘I’m saying that maybe Tommy Burke never went anywhere. You must admit, everything makes more sense if he never got on that bus.’
Abigail didn’t respond. The road had become steeper as it climbed to the top of the headland.
PJ felt as if he finally had the upper hand. ‘It would make complete sense if you had invented his departure in order to protect your sister. A lot of people would have done the same.’
‘Evelyn?’ She shot him a look. ‘You think Evelyn was capable of dispatching Tommy Burke?’
‘At first I didn’t, but she is very …’ he had to choose his words carefully, ‘emotional. It’s not hard to imagine her having an extreme response to something or someone.’
‘Oh for God’s sake. Evelyn didn’t kill Tommy Burke.’
‘You sound very sure.’
‘I am very sure, Sergeant. I know for a fact that my sister didn’t kill that arrogant boy.’
PJ’s heart was beating fast and he was aware of a dryness in his mouth.
‘So who are you covering for? If you know who committed the murder, you … well you must, you have to tell us.’ He hated how weak and ineffectual he sounded.
‘You’re really not a very clever man, are you? Waddling up and down the village meddling in things that are best left alone. There was no need for any of this. None.’ She hit the steering wheel with her right hand to emphasise her frustration. ‘You stupid, fat, sweaty fool. No need. There was absolutely no need.’
PJ clutched the sides of his seat to stop himself from slapping her across the face. He hadn’t been spoken to like that for years, and even then it was only by drunks he was taking into the station to sleep it off on a Saturday night. He took a deep breath. ‘Insult me all you want, Miss Ross, but if you know what happened to Tommy Burke, you are going to have to tell us.’
Abigail threw her head back and barked out a single laugh.
‘You want to know what happened? All right, I’ll tell you what happened. That day the engagement was in the paper … well, I hadn’t fully realised how deeply Evelyn felt for the boy. I had just assumed it was a silly schoolgirl crush. Then when she came back from Burke’s she was so distraught. I hated it. I hated to see her crying. After our parents died I was forced to take charge, and seeing her like that I just felt like it was my fault, my failure. I was furious with that little Burke boy. We had rented our land to him and it had been my idea for Evelyn to help him in the house, and after all that, this was how he was repaying us.
‘I went up to the farm to confront him. There was no way he was still going to rent our land, and I wanted to tell him myself. When I got to the house, the door was open. I called out a few times but eventually just went in. There on the table was the scarf that had made Evelyn so happy. I remembered the sobbing mess back at Ard Carraig and my blood was boiling. I grabbed the scarf and went around the back of the house to see if he was in the yard. He wasn’t, but I heard a tractor up the hill so I decided to head up there to see if it was him. It was. Not a bother on him, just sat up straight on the tractor seat, pulling a harrow across the ploughed field. It was business as usual for him. I remember looking at the back of his head as he drove away from me down the field, and how unconcerned he seemed. He had broken a girl’s heart that morning and he was harrowing. I was shaking with anger.
‘He was about halfway back up the field when he saw me. He waved, but I stood my ground inside the gate. He tried talking to me from the seat of the tractor but I was having none of it. I called him down. I don’t remember exactly what I said. I shouted at him. I told him about the farm and I thrust Evelyn’s scarf into his hand. He looked at it as if he didn’t even recognise it. He blustered and began to explain that Evelyn was just a young girl and he’d done nothing to encourage her, and then …’
PJ sat perfectly still. He felt as if Abigail had almost forgotten that he was still in the car with her. She was telling this story to herself.
‘And then the wind caught the end of the scarf. It wasn’t even a windy day. A breeze, that’s all it was. The scarf furled out behind him like a long, thin flame. It was all so fast. The power drive on the back of the tractor was still spinning around and in just one moment it had caught the scarf. Tommy was yanked back off his feet and smashed his head against the side of the harrow. I’ll never forget that sound: a loud, wet crack. He lay completely still and the scarf, now he’d let it go, just flapped harmlessly around the power drive. It was all so sudden. I had been so angry and now this horrible scene lay before me. It was as if I’d made it happen but I knew that wasn’t true. I checked the body, but he was dead. It’s strange to think back and remember how calm I was. I stepped up on the tractor and turned off the engine, and then I dragged Tommy away from the harrow.’
Abigail stopped speaking. Her lips formed a small grin. PJ wondered if she was going to laugh.
‘I know what you’re thinking, Sergeant.’
PJ felt strangely uneasy now that she had acknowledged his presence once more.
‘What?’ he asked quietly. He wasn’t sure how he should be handling this woman. The mood in the car felt brittle and dangerous. They were moving quite fast now, coming down the hill, and as the car sped around each tight bend, PJ caught glimpses of Aikeen Bay, all piebald blues and shimmering beneath the sun.
‘You’re wondering why I didn’t come straight down to the village and tell someone what had happened. Of course I considered it, but then I thought about Evelyn. You know it was her who found our father’s body? I thought that the news of Tommy’s death might have killed her. Everyone would be talking about her. She was already one of the tragic Ross sisters; I couldn’t heap this misery on her as well.
‘Everything seemed very clear and simple to me then. I went down to the yard and found a shovel. The ground was ploughed, so it wasn’t that difficult. I rolled him in and I remember he fell face down and for some reason that bothered me, so I turned him over to face skywards. After he was buried, I drove the tractor down to the barn and cleaned the blood off the side of the harrow with a bit of straw. What remained of the scarf I picked out of the power drive, and then I was done. I used the keys from the tractor to lock up the house and went home. Tommy had run away.
‘That night I went down to the village and told a few people about the bus. It was as simple as that, Sergeant. And for twenty-five years everything was fine. Nobody cared and Evelyn got her life back.’
PJ stared at her. Was she serious? Did she really think her sister had got on with the rest of her life? Didn’t she realise that she might as well have buried Evelyn along with Tommy? The woman was probably still sobbing into that fucking scarf up at Ard Carraig.
‘
I do wish – God, how I wish – that the builders’ JCB had just angled its bucket to the left or right, then none of this would have had to happen.’
PJ didn’t like her tone as she spoke. It was as if she still knew more than he did. Was there more to her story? He opened his mouth and found that he just told her the truth.
‘I don’t know what to say. I’m shocked.’
‘Why? Because I’m a woman?’
‘No. Not at all. I expected it to be a crime of passion, not a simple accident that for some reason you saw fit to make look like a murder. Did you not think about confessing after a day or two?’
‘It was a good plan. A solid plan. It worked for twenty-five years. It’s not like anyone cared about him.’
PJ thought of Mrs Meany with her head bowed over his kitchen table.
‘Why tell me everything now? Why not just brazen it out? You must know that we could never get any sort of conviction with the evidence we have.’
‘Why now? Because, Sergeant, it doesn’t matter.’
‘Doesn’t matter?’
‘Nothing matters any more.’
The car took a sharp right on to a small road with thick hedges and a ridge of grass ripping through the tarmac in the centre of the lane.
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I’m a dead woman, Sergeant. Tumours. That’s what they found when they went in. Stage Four. As one nurse with not the best bedside manner put it, I’m riddled with it. I have weeks, months at most. Like mother like daughter. I’m the chosen one.’
The hedges were whipping past now in a green blur, and PJ realised that they were heading down to Dromore Pier. The car was going far too fast and he was gripped by an awful fear.
‘I’m sure there must be something they can do.’
Silence. He glanced across at her. She was staring straight ahead, her hands pressing on the steering wheel so that her body was pushed back against her seat.
‘Miss Ross. Where are we going?’
She didn’t reply.
‘Don’t do anything stupid, Miss Ross.’
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