Beneath the Surface

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Beneath the Surface Page 32

by Jo Spain


  ‘I do, as it happens. He only said one word though. Over and over. I don’t think it will be much use to you. He just wanted us to help him.’

  ‘Is that what he said?’ Tom asked. ‘Did he say “help”?’

  ‘No.’ Simon shook his head. ‘He said “aid”. Repeated it a few times. He needed first aid. I told him we’d treat him as soon as we had him out of the car, that he was in good hands.’

  ‘Nothing else?’

  ‘No. I visited him in the hospital a couple of weeks later. I do that sometimes, pop up to the ward and see how they’re doing. He didn’t remember me, but he was effusive in his thanks.’

  ‘You deserved it. Thank you, Simon. You’ve been a great help. I’ll get someone to see you out.’

  ‘Really?’ Simon looked bewildered. ‘That’s all you need?’

  ‘That’s all.’

  Outside the room, Tom turned to Laura.

  ‘What do you think?’

  Laura blinked. Her boss had obviously pulled several strands of his hunch together, but she was still trying to grasp their meaning.

  ‘I have an idea where you’re going. But I’m struggling.’ Laura was hoping her boss would keep going and not expect her to fill in the blanks.

  ‘Let’s start with the piece of information we just heard,’ Tom continued. ‘Simon is a paramedic, so when he hears the word “aid” he immediately thinks of “first aid”. But that’s not what Ryan was saying at all.’

  ‘No,’ Laura shook her head. ‘He was identifying the man who’d crashed into him. Aid for Aidan. You have him, don’t you?’

  ‘Yes. When Ryan wrote that letter for Kathryn, he said he had a feeling he was in danger. Those weren’t paranoid thoughts. His subconscious was telling him something. Aidan Blake had already tried to kill him once.’

  Chapter 26

  ‘This is becoming quite a habit, Inspector. I’m loath to invite the legal profession into our little conversations, but I feel I may have to if our tête-a-têtes are to continue.’

  On the other end of the phone, Tom stiffened.

  He’d been unable to get hold of Madsen that morning but had managed to reach him while they waited for a warrant for the search and arrest they were about to make.

  ‘I just wanted to keep you up to date on developments, Mr Madsen. And also to let you know that I know.’

  ‘Do you always speak in riddles or is that something reserved solely for me? What is it you know?’

  ‘I know you’ve been lying to me about your relationship with Minister Aidan Blake. And I know that contrary to what you said when we chatted last Sunday, you are predisposed to blackmail, of the financial kind at least.’

  There was silence on the phone, filled only by the slow breathing of the Danish man.

  ‘That’s a very grave allegation, Inspector,’ Madsen replied coolly. ‘I hope you have proof to back up your accusation.’

  ‘No. I’ve no proof as yet. But let me fill you in on what I suspect. I’m not recording this phone call, Mr Madsen. We can do this properly at a later stage.’

  Madsen sighed, a casual sound, but Tom knew the man was on his guard. He also thought he’d heard a little click, the sound of another line being activated, somebody listening in on the conversation at Madsen’s end.

  His advisor, no doubt.

  ‘Proceed, Inspector. I don’t have all day.’

  ‘I understand. Let’s start with this. When we met in your home, you told us you’d never met Aidan Blake in Government Buildings. That didn’t translate to you never having met the minister at all.’

  ‘I never implied that it did. I’ve seen the minister at many events.’

  ‘Oh, your relationship is closer than that. During my first encounter with Blake, he referenced your holiday home in Donegal. He said it was built into the cliff, that it was palatial and like something from a James Bond movie. I saw that for myself. The thing is, most of the house’s architectural delights aren’t visible from the outside. Aidan Blake visited you at home. It’s the only way he could have described it in that manner.’

  ‘You visited my home.’ Madsen laughed thinly. ‘It’s not surrounded by a moat. People are allowed entry.’

  ‘Not many, though. You’ve stressed that you like your privacy.’

  ‘That is true. But I’m very much in the dark as to why my relationship with Blake is relevant at all. I imagine you’re going to enlighten me.’

  Tom smiled bitterly. He sounded calmer than he was, while inside he was churning with anger. He despised men like Madsen, who believed they could control every situation – who had the money and power to evade the normal laws governing society. Madsen would get away with what he’d done somehow. But the inspector wanted him to know he had his cards marked.

  ‘Do you know that Darragh McNally killed himself?’ he asked.

  ‘No. I was unaware of that. What a terrible tragedy. I’ll have flowers sent to the family.’

  ‘There is no family, Mr Madsen. McNally said in his suicide note that he’d been played by somebody. I believe that person was you. I suspect you bought him off as much for Aidan Blake’s benefit as for Udforske’s.’

  Madsen made an effort at indignation, but Tom cut him off.

  ‘McNally wanted to manipulate the minister and Blake is too ambitious to be controlled for long. The party chair might have thought he had his protégé where he wanted him, but it was a ruse on Blake’s part. He said himself, contrary to what other people think, he’s not easily led. We just didn’t believe him. I kept buying the “he’s only the spokesperson” line.’

  ‘I haven’t the least idea what you’re talking about.’

  ‘I apologise. I’m racing ahead. When you confirmed for me that Blake had been trying to ring you on the Saturday, you also said you hadn’t taken his calls. Now, there are two items to note there. First, that Blake thought you would provide him with an alibi. Second, that even when your phone was on, you decided to ignore the minister. You were putting him in his place. You were only willing to help Blake so long as it benefited you. You weren’t going to stand by the man in all circumstances.’

  ‘Or perhaps I was just ignoring my phone as I usually do when I’m off, Inspector? Have you considered that during your wild speculations?’

  ‘I have,’ Tom answered. ‘I also considered how you made it explicit that you generally deal with the man who “pulls the strings”. But I don’t believe you were being truthful. You said that Blake had fostered a reputation as untouchable, which doesn’t mean he actually was. Blake having that sort of myth about him, however, would actually be quite useful to someone who had successfully won his influence. You also said that you hadn’t pressed Blake on this issue.’

  ‘Where are you going with this?’ Madsen asked.

  ‘Well, I think you’re a very clever man. Blake’s star was rising and you were backing him all along. McNally was just small fry. You’re not the sort to stop at buying civil servants. You buy governments.’

  ‘If only,’ Madsen chortled affably. ‘But if I had, what would be in this for Blake?’

  ‘Good question. I know McNally needed money, but I suspect Blake wanted a powerful ally. He could promise you anything – the contract for a national broadcasting licence, State building contracts, anything Udforske wanted to expand into – if you committed to creating jobs and photo opportunities, and to support Blake in his campaign to become Taoiseach. You know how to play that game, don’t you? You’ve spent a lot of time in Africa, as we discovered. You’re probably used to buying influence in small nations everywhere, especially in countries that are basically bankrupt, like ours. The sad thing is that in the end, Darragh McNally realised what had been going on. I think somebody told him. He was planning to kill himself anyway, but I have a feeling he was helped along the way.’

  ‘What you are implying, Inspector, is entirely incredible. Have you any actual evidence to support your claims? Are you expecting me to crack under the weight of your stunning e
xposition and make a confession of some sort? To what – running a business effectively?’

  ‘No,’ Tom said, unable to disguise the defeat in his voice. ‘I don’t expect you to confess to anything. Like I said, you’re an extremely astute man and I’m sure you have a plan in operation to limit your company’s exposure to the fallout from this. Because you should know, there will be fallout. We will trace those payments you made to McNally back to Udforske. Bribing a government official – I’m not sure what that sentence carries or if we can even indict you in Ireland – but I know it will look bad for your company. And I imagine that Bill that was going to help Udforske continue to make millions from Irish resources is dead in the water.’

  Madsen sucked in air and exhaled slowly.

  Tom waited.

  ‘I’ll leave you to chase your fantasies in your own time, Inspector,’ the Danish man said, his tone icy. ‘You won’t trace anything back to Udforske because there is nothing to trace back. And you have wasted my time with some of the most ludicrous and unfounded charges I have ever had the misfortune to listen to. Other than some personal vendetta you must have against my company, I am still at a loss to understand why any of this is relevant to me.’

  ‘You may be right,’ Tom conceded. ‘Maybe we will struggle to trace anything back. But I want you to know something. I want you to understand what you contributed to in Ireland this week – the collateral damage you and Aidan Blake have left in your wake. Two men are dead, Mr Madsen. One man was murdered because he wanted to stand up to the type of business you like to see done. Another man is dead by his own hand because of the predicament he allowed himself to become entangled in – with you.

  ‘You show no feelings for either of these men. Perhaps the only thing you understand is money. But I have a theory about you. I believe you move in circles with men such as yourself. Men equally unsympathetic to other people’s cock-ups. And you really messed up when you became involved with Darragh McNally and Aidan Blake. I think your peers – maybe the board members of Udforske, maybe the president of the company – will come after you.

  ‘And I think you know that.’

  For the second time on a call with Madsen, Tom was left listening to the dial tone. The other man had hung up. His anger had got the better of him.

  And the inspector knew he’d landed his blow.

  *

  ‘Sorry about that. It’s tax-filing week, the bane of my life. Silent Voices is one of the most transparent charitable bodies on the island, what with Sara being married to a minister and everything. But there’s always something the auditor asks for that we’re not expecting. What is it you need from me anyway?’

  Ray was sitting in Hugh Masterson’s office. He’d made his way directly to the headquarters of Silent Voices on Dame Street, near Trinity College in Dublin’s city centre. His visit wasn’t expected and Masterson had been in a meeting, which he’d cut short to accommodate the detective. Ray was grateful, but he hadn’t minded the brief delay. It had given him some time to ponder how he’d ask Tom’s question without putting Masterson on his guard. The detective had decided to start with him, as opposed to somebody from the Blakes’ extended family, who would be more likely to clam up and ring the couple as soon as the detective had gone.

  ‘I apologise for just landing on top of you like this,’ he said, trying to ignore Masterson’s shirt – a luminous pink affair that wouldn’t have been unusual in a surf bar but was certainly out of place on a cold October morning in Dublin. Masterson was sitting with one leg resting across his knee, the rips in his jeans exposing dark-skinned hairy knees. ‘We’re just revisiting all the statements we took from people concerning events on Friday night. I know when you met with my colleagues you confirmed the timeline Aidan Blake gave us for leaving and returning to the charity ball with his wife.’

  ‘That’s right. I haven’t remembered anything else, I’m afraid.’

  ‘That’s fine. You also mentioned that he seemed very cool with Sara when they returned – that she was upset.’

  Masterson frowned, a look of puzzlement on his face.

  ‘Yes. She did seem distressed. Why is that relevant, Detective? Sara’s okay, isn’t she? Her husband hasn’t done anything, has he?’

  The confused expression was transforming to one of concern.

  Ray realised his route to asking the right question would be easier than he’d thought. Masterson was desperately fond of Sara and not happy about the idea of anybody hurting her.

  ‘She’s fine,’ he replied. ‘I’m afraid I can’t really discuss her husband at this point, but do you mind if I ask you a couple of general questions about the Blakes’ relationship?’

  ‘Sure – whatever you need.’

  ‘Does . . . Has Sara ever said anything to you about being afraid of Aidan?’

  ‘Afraid?’ Masterson was now fully upright in his chair, his features contorted in panic.

  ‘Yes. Has she mentioned any problems they’ve had, any issues with his fidelity or stuff like that?’

  The other man was shaking his head adamantly.

  ‘No. No. If Sara had been afraid of Blake, I’d have known about it. I’d have intervened. I would never leave her in any danger. He upset her the night of the ball, but he’s never been violent with her. And Sara wouldn’t put up with that. She had a very difficult relationship with her father. He was a bit of a shit, by all accounts. Prone to giving her mother the odd slap. He never laid a hand on Sara, just ignored her, but she wouldn’t stand for any abuse from Aidan like that. Her upbringing is why she’s so protective of children now.’

  ‘I see.’ Ray rubbed his jaw. ‘Is he unfaithful to her though?’

  Masterson hesitated. His eyes flickered to a picture on the wall. Ray followed his gaze. The framed photograph showed Sara and Masterson at the front of a group of children, their arms around each other’s shoulders and the small children to either side. They were both beaming for the camera, a happy couple.

  ‘She’s never said anything,’ he said, turning back to Ray. ‘But I have my suspicions. I think Sara is one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever known, inside and out. I’ve no doubt Aidan loves her, but he doesn’t appreciate her the way she should be appreciated. He’s too self-involved. I thought, for a little while, that their marriage wouldn’t last, but they seem determined to make it work. And I think that’s down to the fact she’s so forgiving. No matter what he does, she stands by him.’

  ‘How do you know he’s trying to make it work?’ Ray probed. He sensed they were getting close to what he needed.

  ‘Well, they’re going to have a child together.’

  ‘Really?’ Ray asked casually, but his heart was thumping. ‘Is Sara pregnant?’

  ‘No.’ Masterson shook his head. ‘She can’t have children. Tragic, isn’t it? A woman so brilliant with children, so caring. You would think she was destined to be a mother. But, sure, if it doesn’t happen naturally, there are always other ways, aren’t there, Detective?’

  Ray looked at the other man, his face thoughtful. So Tom had been right. Jesus, his boss’s brain worked in unusual ways.

  ‘Yes,’ he answered Masterson. ‘There are indeed.’

  *

  The Blakes’ house in Howth was quiet as the two cars rolled up the drive. Somebody was in – the gates had opened electronically when they pulled up. Aidan Blake wasn’t answering his phone but Tom knew he was home.

  The sky was darkening overhead. Bronze-coloured clouds had rolled in from the horizon and the air smelled of rain to come. Red, gold and brown leaves swirled in the breeze, their colours intensified by the surreal light.

  The inspector had just spoken to the Taoiseach. After he’d filled Sean McGuinness in, the chief had told him to ring Cormac O’Shea immediately.

  Tom outlined his theory for the Taoiseach, stressing that he was still gathering evidence but was moving to make an arrest on the basis of what he’d already established. The other man listened quietly. Belying his
boorish reputation, he made an intelligent and considered contribution when Tom had finished.

  ‘I thought I’d take more pleasure in the downfall of the people who would take my job,’ he said. ‘And I never thought I’d say this, but it sounds like Darragh McNally deserves justice. It seems I have more compassion than my enemies give me credit for. But I think the ending of a career in such ignominious circumstances for this individual will be a greater punishment than everything else that lies ahead.’

  Laura parked the car, but the inspector didn’t get out immediately. Ray’s number flashed on the screen of his mobile. This was the last piece of information Tom needed. He answered the call.

  ‘Well? Did you find out what I asked?’

  ‘You were right. I just spoke to Huge Masterson. It wasn’t a secret, but nobody thought the Blakes’ family matters were relevant. Care to fill me in now?’

  The inspector told him where they were and outlined the idea that had sprung into his head last night and what he’d done so far this morning to verify it.

  ‘The motive was wrong,’ Tom said. ‘That’s what threw me. I just had to look at it from other perspectives and take everything we’d been told into account. It wasn’t the Bill we should have been focusing on. It was Blake’s indiscretions. All that matters is family, as McNally said.’

  Ray said nothing and Tom could sense he was flummoxed.

  ‘It makes sense, now you say it,’ he said. ‘But I’m not sure it would have occurred to me. Have you enough to make an arrest?’

  ‘I secured the warrant to seize Blake’s car this morning,’ Tom replied. ‘He’s ferried everywhere in a ministerial vehicle, but there’s a garage behind his house. I’ve only ever seen one car parked out front, presumably Sara’s, so his is probably sitting in there. I imagine he’s had it fixed but it shouldn’t be too hard to link it to the hit-and-run. Either way, I actually think he’ll cave when I go in here. He’s hardly a criminal mastermind. He could have killed himself in that crash.’

  ‘Clearly. It’s pure luck he got away with it at the time. He said himself he had a reckless side. We should have listened.’

 

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