by Jo Spain
Laura stared at Grace, trying not to let her dislike show. The woman might know something that could be of use to them.
‘You were clearly aware that your colleague had been murdered,’ Ray continued, unblinking eyes trained on Grace. ‘You mentioned as much to your sister. You must have known we would want to talk to those who worked closest with Ryan. Yet you left your apartment and refused to answer your mobile phone. Why?’
Grace’s eyes started to water and she sniffed dramatically, glancing dolefully at Ray. What a little actress, Laura marvelled. She sat back in her chair, content to leave this one to her partner. Ray Lennon could have his pick of women. Grace Brady might think she looked all bambi-like and vulnerable when she cried, but she didn’t and it wouldn’t wash with Ray anyway.
‘There was a reason,’ the woman whispered. ‘I was frightened.’
‘Of what?’
‘It’s obvious, isn’t it? That whoever killed Ryan would come after me.’
‘Why?’ Ray persisted.
‘I work with him, don’t I? And it’s my fault that he died.’
Laura sighed and Grace flashed her a stony look before returning her attention to Ray. This time she tried for beguiling, lowering her eyes and peering coyly from beneath short, wet lashes that looked like little spider legs.
‘How is it your fault?’ Ray continued, ignoring the antics.
‘I let the IT guys take his computer. Then, when he found out this week they’d switched it, he was incandescent. Wouldn’t stop whining about it. So I told him to get a grip and just go over and get whatever he needed off the thing. I was really looking forward to him coming back from sick leave, but all he did last week was moan.’
‘So, you think you’re responsible for his death because you told him to go over to LH2000?’
‘Yes.’ Grace sniffed for effect. The tears had long dried.
‘And that’s the only reason you decided to flee Dublin and go into hiding?’
The woman hesitated.
Ray’s eyes bored into Grace’s.
She looked away first.
‘Yes.’
‘You’re sure?’ he asked.
‘I said so, didn’t I?’
Ray sat back and took a deep breath.
‘Grace, making a throwaway remark to Ryan before he died was not the catalyst for his murder. Nor was letting IT take his computer. You have nothing to be frightened of, if you are telling us everything. What time did you leave Leinster House on Friday night?’
‘Dunno.’
‘Do you drive or use public transport?’
‘I walk. I live close enough.’
‘Did you encounter anybody on your way home?’
‘I don’t know. Yes. Probably. I think I called into a garage for milk.’
‘The name of the garage?’ Ray asked.
Grace glared at him, the lame effort at flirtation abandoned.
‘This is ridiculous. I would be the last person to hurt Ryan. Maybe you haven’t heard, but he had a thing for me. It was tough being the only girl working in an office with two men. It’s such long hours in politics, you get close, you know. If it hadn’t been for Ryan’s clingy wife, I think we’d have made a go of it. He liked women who take care of their appearance, who live healthy lives. His wife completely let herself go last year. I mean, I know she was pregnant, but I’m pretty sure that doesn’t give you a licence to eat everything you see.’
‘Are you saying you and Ryan were having an affair?’ Laura interrupted. ‘An actual relationship? Did you sleep with Ryan?’
The other woman tilted her head back and looked down her nose at Laura.
‘No. We didn’t sleep together. As I said, his wife was in the way. I won’t be any man’s mistress. I’ve made that mistake before. But we both knew what we wanted.’
‘Was anything ever said explicitly?’ Laura continued. ‘Did Ryan actually say to you that he wanted a relationship? Did he even say he liked you?’
Fresh tears welled up in Grace’s eyes. She turned to Ray.
‘I feel like I’m being interrogated. I just told you I’m scared. And I’ve lost someone close to me. Why are you asking me so many questions?’
Laura stood up, her irritation getting the better of her.
‘We’re getting nowhere here. Come on, let’s go.’
She stormed out of the kitchen.
Ray followed her out of the cottage a few minutes later.
‘I hope you weren’t mopping up tears for that silly woman,’ Laura barked as he got into the car. ‘What an absolute time-waster.’
He angled himself in the seat so he could look at her properly.
‘I was getting the name of that garage she says she dropped into. I don’t believe her story. I want to check it out. She seems very unstable. We’d better make sure she didn’t shoot Ryan in the head because she caught him glancing sideways at another woman.’
Laura snorted.
‘Her sister’s deluding herself about the autism,’ she said, putting the car in gear. ‘The only thing wrong with Grace Brady is that she’s a bad-mannered bully with a high opinion of herself.’
‘I don’t know,’ Ray said. ‘She’s certainly lacking in social skills, that’s for sure. I do think you missed a beat in there, though.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You disliked her, so you dismissed her. She wasn’t telling us something and we weren’t able to delve any further because you assumed what she was saying about her and Ryan was all in her head. But I think she was also alluding to something with the minister.’
‘She’s just trying to be the centre of attention,’ Laura retorted, defensive. ‘I’ve spent the weekend trying to chase down that bloody woman for no good reason. She’d left the complex before anything happened – we should have been able to cross her off the list on Saturday instead of all this running around.’
Ray shook his head.
‘I agree with you, to a point. But just because she’s annoying doesn’t mean she had no role in what happened on Friday. I think she is genuinely afraid of something.’
Laura stared out the window.
‘Maybe. But I had to break the news to Kathryn Finnegan about Ryan. The woman was devastated. She loved her husband and there’s nothing to say he didn’t love her just as much. That fool back there is tainting his memory.’
‘When you went to Kathryn’s house, was that your first relative visit where a kid was involved?’ Ray asked, gently.
Laura’s hands tightened on the wheel.
‘Yes.’
Ray paused. He felt awkward, but he wanted to seize the moment.
‘Do you want to get some dinner later? We can talk about the case. And Kathryn Finnegan.’
Laura kept her eyes straight ahead.
‘Okay,’ she said, focused on keeping her voice steady.
It’s just dinner with a colleague, she told herself. No harm in that.
Chapter 16
Monday Night, Dublin
‘Are you sure you won’t have something? I’m cooking anyway. You must be starving.’
Sara Blake led Tom and Michael towards the kitchen, her heels beating a staccato rhythm on the hallway’s wooden floor. She had seemed distracted and a little upset when she opened the door. Blake must have confessed to her about the photos.
They had come directly from Government Buildings. The minister was at a constituency meeting in North Dublin somewhere but had assured them he’d be going straight home afterwards.
Sara bustled around the cooking area, inviting them to sit on stools parked beside the centre island as she prepared the food.
Tom was happy to find her home alone. It gave them time to ascertain if she was still corroborating the latter part of her husband’s alibi. He wondered if Sara knew her husband hadn’t met with Madsen. The inspector still couldn’t get his head around why Blake had lied about the meeting. What a stupid thing to do. He must have realised they’d check.
Unles
s . . .
Tom quickly typed and sent a text.
‘Sorry about that,’ he said.
‘Not at all. I think I’ll help myself to a glass of wine, if you don’t mind,’ Sara said, moving to the retro Smeg fridge and retrieving a bottle of Albariño, condensation running down its sides. ‘Tough day at the office.’
‘You’re the CEO of Silent Voices, aren’t you?’ Michael asked. ‘I read about your charity in a feature in one of the wife’s magazines. You really do a great job. It must be tough, though.’
‘Well, thank you. Yes, it can be. We were compiling personal stories today for our annual report. I met some girls who live in one of our respite homes. Kids, fourteen, fifteen years of age. They ended up on the streets after running away. Both of them suffered years of abuse at home. One at her father’s hands, the other from her mother’s boyfriend.’
She frowned as she poured a large measure of wine, the liquid glugging from the bottle and splashing without finesse into the glass.
‘I don’t know why it got to me so much today. I’m used to dealing with tragedy. It doesn’t make it easier but it’s like being a social worker. If you want to do your job properly, you can’t let it get under your skin. I guess I’ve other things on my mind.’
‘Do you have any kids yourself?’ Michael asked.
‘No, not yet.’ Sara smiled. ‘One day. I remember when Ryan told us Kathryn was pregnant. God, he was over the moon. I’ve always thought I’d make a good parent. Better than what I had, anyway. Sorry. I’m being maudlin!’
The inspector shook his head dismissively. She didn’t need to apologise.
He wondered what had stood in the way of the Blakes having a child to date, if she was eager. Sara looked fit and healthy and could only be in her late thirties at most – hardly past it in terms of childbearing years, though pushing towards the thin edge of the wedge. The demands of her and her husband’s careers had probably acted as a block to family plans. And that was the second time she’d made a reference to her own upbringing. She’d clearly gone into helping children because her own childhood hadn’t been up to much.
Tom sensed that what she witnessed in her job got under her skin far more than she let on.
‘Mrs Blake, I want to follow up on a couple of things concerning Friday night, if that’s okay?’ Tom said.
‘Sure.’
‘Remind me, what time was it precisely that you arrived over in Government Buildings with your husband?’
‘I can’t remember to the exact minute, but it was 9-ish.’
‘And you parted ways with your husband . . . where?’
‘His office.’
‘What time did you see him again?’
‘About 9.45, in the bar.’
Tom didn’t say anything. For a few seconds, the only sound in the kitchen was the gentle hissing of onions frying in the heavy pan on the cooking range.
Sara looked the inspector straight in the eye.
‘My husband didn’t kill Ryan,’ she said, quietly. ‘Is that what you think?’
Tom rested his elbows on the countertop and leaned forward.
‘Why would I think that?’
‘Inspector, you’ve asked me twice now what time Aidan found me on Friday. You keep checking his alibi.’
‘We’re checking the alibis of everybody in Leinster House that night,’ Tom said.
‘Yes, but this is the third time you will have spoken to him and the second time you’ve visited our home. Can I tell you something?’
Tom nodded.
‘I’m sure you hear this all the time, but I know my husband. He has flaws. He can be weak and he can be selfish. He’s even a bit reckless at times. But that’s about as bad as he gets. If he was harbouring murderous intentions, I’m pretty sure I’d have noticed by now. I’ve seen a lot of evil people in my life. Aidan is not one of them. I’m not in denial; I’m just stating a fact.’
The inspector bowed his head in a gesture that indicated he’d give what she said due consideration. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d listened to somebody’s spouse protest their partner’s innocence, even in the face of overwhelming evidence to the contrary.
The minister’s wife was staring at him, waiting for a response.
‘He couldn’t do it, Inspector. He just couldn’t.’
‘Has he discussed with you what was found with Ryan the night he was murdered?’
She winced as she nodded, the anguish apparent on her face.
‘Do you think Ryan was trying to blackmail Aidan?’ he asked her.
Sara started to shake her head, but stopped. She sighed resignedly.
‘I would never have thought Ryan capable of it, but his having those pictures that night is pretty telling. I am upset about the photos. It’s something we have to deal with as a couple, but, then, I’m also conscious that the past is the past. It’s the future that matters.’
She tugged at her bottom lip.
‘But, Inspector, regardless of Ryan’s intentions – which are pretty damn inexplicable – it doesn’t mean my husband murdered him.’
‘Sara, blackmail is often at the heart of murder. If Ryan was attempting to hurt your husband by exposing him in the worst possible way, haven’t you considered at all that Aidan may have reacted to that in a manner that would be out of character?’
Tom was probing, hoping she’d give something away with her body language, if not her words. He could see panic in her eyes, but it was replaced quickly with resolve.
‘You’re wrong,’ she said. ‘I know in my heart Aidan couldn’t murder anybody.’
Tom observed her silently. She was either utterly convinced or in complete denial. He wasn’t able to tell which.
They heard the sound of the front door being opened. At the same time, Tom’s phone beeped.
He looked down at the screen. Carl Madsen had just replied to the text he’d sent minutes before. The language he’d used was curt and to the point. Now the inspector had the answer to something that had been bothering him and in addition, he’d learned something about Madsen’s relationship with Aidan Blake.
‘Good evening,’ Aidan Blake said, entering the room. ‘Any news?’
He dropped his briefcase on the floor and crossed the room to kiss his wife, studying her face with concern.
‘We’re just looking to have a quick word, if that’s okay?’ Tom said.
‘Of course. Follow me.’
This time the minister brought them to a sitting room instead of his office. There was nothing like seeing pictures of a man having sex to turn casual acquaintances into old friends.
Tom introduced Michael before they sat down.
‘So, have there been any developments?’ Blake asked. He was noticeably more nervous in this room, away from his wife.
‘I’m a bit concerned, Minister,’ Tom said. ‘The timeline of your movements on Friday night doesn’t add up.’
Blake paled, but said nothing.
‘For instance, you told us you were in a meeting with Carl Madsen until 9.30 p.m.’ Tom paused. ‘But as it transpires, you didn’t meet him at all.’
Straight to the point.
Blake stared at the carpet, unspeaking, his wavy fringe flopping onto his forehead.
‘I was wondering why you’d lie to us about something that could be so easily checked, but I think I’ve figured it out. You thought you could get Madsen to lie for you, didn’t you? You rang him several times on Saturday, but he didn’t answer your calls. He told me he had missed calls earlier that day and he just confirmed for me that most of them were from you. Your wife mentioned to us on Saturday that you’d been on the phone all day. You had no way of knowing that Madsen would be uncontactable for the weekend and you must have assumed that if you couldn’t get hold of him, I wouldn’t be able to either. But I did. I went to Donegal.’
Blake was fidgeting in his seat now, anxiously crossing and uncrossing his legs.
‘So, that leaves us with a problem,�
�� Tom continued. ‘I think we need to start again, Minister. What were you doing between 9 p.m. and 9.45 p.m.? And why did Ryan have those pictures the night he was murdered?’
The other man exhaled so loudly his whole body seemed to deflate. He dropped his hands onto his lap, defeated.
‘You’ve caught me out in an untruth, Inspector. Yes, I tried to get hold of Madsen. He wouldn’t answer the damn phone. I suspect his nose was out of joint because I didn’t meet him on Friday. I’m in trouble now, aren’t I? Because how will you believe anything I’m going to say from this point on?’
‘Try me,’ Tom said.
Blake sucked in his cheeks, then nervously brushed his fringe from his forehead. He folded his arms, almost hugging himself.
‘I still can’t believe Ryan was capable of following through. But he was certainly doing his best to convince me of it. He came across the photos months back when he opened an email I hadn’t been expecting. I’d told my blackmailer to use a private address I’d set up, but when I ignored one of his emails he contacted me at my Oireachtas account, a warning shot. Ryan told me he’d forwarded the pictures to his own account. I was shocked and upset. Ryan had always said that my private life was my own business. He maintained that was still the case but intimated that my secrets could be an issue if I “kept on the path I was on”. His words. Our friendship had soured so quickly, I hadn’t even noticed.’
Secrets – not secret. Tom noted the plural.
‘So, he did threaten you?’
‘Yes. I mean, no. I didn’t feel threatened. I didn’t take him seriously. I was hurt by his actions and I think I shamed him when we had that exchange. I asked him what made him think he was morally superior to me if he was willing to sink to such depths to get his way. That seemed to affect him. He said no more about the pictures and we seemed to be getting on a little better. I suppose he was trying to redeem himself. Then the car crash happened. I visited him in hospital, sent gifts to the house, and so on. I started to hope he wouldn’t come back to work, but he turned up on Monday and by Tuesday I knew we had a problem.’