Who Took Eden Mulligan?

by Sharon Dempsey

  Iona arrived, on foot, at the station at Larchfield. She said the others were dead and she did it.

  He pulled up the CCTV footage of Iona arriving at the station that night. Frame by frame, he studied it. There she was, dishevelled and covered in blood that turned out to be mainly her own, but also some of Dylan’s. He froze the frame and zoomed in. Her eyes were wide. Her whole demeanour said she was scared. She was shaking so violently that one of the officers ran out from behind the reception hatch to assist her, but she fell before he could reach her, hitting the floor and blacking out.

  Danny picked up his phone and called Rose. ‘Are you free? I want to run some stuff past you.’

  They met in a small meeting room away from the bustle of the incident room and the dank hole of the basement office. It was functional, sparse, and cool, thanks to air conditioning. Malachy joined them, keen to be kept in the loop. Danny knew he was guilty of turning to Rose to discuss every aspect of the case and had to watch his step there. It didn’t do to freeze out a lead partner and Malachy deserved to be treated with the same respect. The trouble was, Danny liked how Rose worked. Their shared history and friendship meant that he knew how she operated. He could rely on her. She was firmly based in the real world but was attracted to the lofty theories and paradigms of academia. Given half a chance, Danny would bet she’d eventually hide away in some university department. For whatever reasons she didn’t care to share with him, he knew she was hiding something or running from something. She had always been that way, giving little of herself away. Any time they talked about home and family when they were students, she deftly deflected the questions.

  ‘So, what do we need to do?’ Malachy asked.

  ‘I’m trying to get my head around a few things. I suppose I want to know what kind of person maniacally attacks five people and then arranges three of them in a bed. And then there’s the Iona Gardener angle – how did she escape and why does she claim to be responsible?’

  Rose sat on a chair at the table while Danny stood against the wall.

  ‘I keep coming back to Iona. Did she fight her corner? Had she fled before the attacker had finished off?’

  Rose leaned forward. ‘In other words, what was so special about Iona to save her? What cracks has she hidden from us?’

  ‘Yes.’ Danny pointed to Rose. ‘That’s it exactly. Her connection to Lizzie Mulligan, what can we make of that?’

  ‘On one hand it could be nothing. But, if Lizzie and Iona had grown close, had some sort of personal connection, then maybe that is why the murderer sought out the friends in the cottage.’

  ‘And we don’t know that she escaped. Maybe she was spared,’ Malachy added.

  ‘But why spare her?’ Danny asked.

  ‘A week ago I’d have said finding a link between Iona and killer might help to answer that question, but now with Lizzie being the link between the cottage five and the Mulligans I’m all out of fresh ideas.’

  ‘So, based on what we’ve gathered so far, what kind of murderer do you think we’re looking for?’ Danny asked.

  Rose frowned. ‘As I’ve mentioned before, there is some evidence that stabbings like this are connected and related to sexual deviation. We are talking about someone with severely disturbed emotional relationships. The assailant could be expressing something – a pain or anger – that has remained buried for a long time that has only just been triggered.’

  ‘So, a nutter with a deep-rooted jealousy?’ Malachy asked.

  ‘Not necessarily jealousy. Maybe something more complex than that.’

  ‘Can’t you come up with anything better than that?’ Danny knew he was being unfair but his frustration was getting the better of him.

  ‘You can’t expect her to be able to draw you up an instant diagram of who did what and why. Catch yourself on, Stowe,’ Malachy chastised.

  ‘Right, Mal. I know, but I’m under pressure, here.’

  ‘Aren’t we all?’

  A silence fell between them.

  Rose leaned forward in her chair. ‘Look at the weapon. A knife used in the way it was speaks of rage. Something barely contained was unleashed in that cottage. To stab someone is hard. You see them up close. You feel the knife sink into flesh, hear the sucking of sinew and muscle tear away, and see the blood. It’s provocative and visceral. And yet, the scene at the cottage showed us a killer who was merciless despite the intimate nature of the crime. It makes me think it’s possible that we are dealing with a dissociative episode. Someone who has figuratively stepped out of their body while they created a scene of bloodied hell.’

  Danny scratched his head. ‘We’re back to the beginning and no further forward.’

  The next day, Danny and Rose travelled to the pathology lab to meet with Gabriel Logan. The second body had been found buried in a former cut-away peat bog, meaning that the site had to be drained before the excavation could begin. This time it had been female remains unearthed from the bog cased in clay and dirt. They both knew what the news could mean to the Mulligan family. The secrets that had put her there would be resurrected soon enough.

  The lab was set up with the skeletal remains from the dig site displayed on two steel tables.

  ‘I think it’s always better to talk through findings with the remains in front of us. It will all be in the report, but I thought you’d want to hear this from me direct,’ Logan said.

  ‘Yes, thanks,’ Danny said. ‘We appreciate that.’

  ‘The exhumation team is made up of the lead anthropologist, a photographer, the surveyor, and a field assistant in charge of the systematic collection of physical evidence. Once a body has been recovered, we do everything to ensure that vital evidence is not damaged. It’s like doing your job, only throwing tons of soil and decades on top,’ Logan said.

  Danny nodded. ‘I can see it’s a complex mission.’

  An almost complete skeleton was laid out with two bones tied together with discoloured cord. Most of the bones in the partially completed jigsaw puzzle were a dirty yellow colour, others an earth-darkened brown. Danny noted there were obviously pieces missing. Next to the pieces of bone, there was a stainless-steel washing table, complete with deep sinks and sieves probably used to clean the debris.

  ‘We appreciate you moving fast on this one,’ Danny said. ‘You know how difficult it is for the family. They are desperate to know if it’s their mother.’

  ‘Northern Ireland isn’t the only place dealing with disappeared people. I’ve worked on similar forensic excavations in Argentina and Colombia. The not knowing what has happened and where their missing family members’ remains might be becomes a huge psychological issue. There’s something barbaric in not affording someone a proper burial. So, yes, I appreciate the sensitivities.’ He led them closer to the table.

  ‘As you can see, we don’t always obtain a complete skeleton,’ Logan said. ‘The bones can’t always be separated from other matter at the exhumation site because of time or the level of risk of damaging what we are trying to extract. The sieves help filter small items, such as wrist and foot bones, to avoid them being lost. Depending on the type of sample, we clean it with a soft-bristled brush like this.’ He held up a short stubby brush. Danny watched Rose lean in closer to have a better look.

  ‘Then the remains are placed on the metal table in correct anatomical positions so that we can work systematically, examining every bone, to provide an inventory of our findings. Each bone is marked with a serial number and recorded.

  ‘I’ve kept you waiting long enough though. You want to know what we’ve found.’

  ‘Yes. Can you confirm that the second body found was Eden Mulligan?’ Rose asked.

  ‘It’s her. We were able to run the dental records through the system.’ He could scarcely hide the excitement in his voice. The find was a professional win for him and his team.

  ‘And there’s something else.’

  ‘What?’ Danny asked.

  ‘She was pregnant.’

  CH
APTER 56

  The next day, Rose went to see Eamonn Mulligan. He had requested the meeting, asking Rose to be at Joel Ellis’s office for ten o’clock. She parked on a side street and walked the short distance.

  She walked down Deramore Avenue thinking that Belfast was showing its true colours in the sunlight. The red, white and blue of the past few weeks had died away. Previously pristine Union flags now fell dissolute against lampposts, already fading in the harsh sunlight. Everyone looked weary and ready for the heat to break. The promised rain still hadn’t come. She passed a group of teenage girls, squawking and laughing at something one of them had shown the others on her phone. Only a few decades ago their lives would have been so different, dictated by intimidation and the threat of violence. Eden Mulligan’s Belfast would have been worse again. Opportunities for work were limited, with working class girls depending on factories or shops for jobs. Life coloured by the constant sense of being the ‘other’. Now, Belfast was a vibrant city full of creatives, young professionals, and a steady trade of tourists coming to view the peace walls and the Game of Thrones’ film locations. Times had most definitely changed.

  She reached Joel’s office and found Eamonn already there.

  Joel told them to make themselves at home, he would give them space and time to talk and return in an hour. Rose thanked him and poured herself a glass of water.

  ‘Well, Eamonn, what’s on your mind?’

  ‘I need to tell you something. Now that the dig has unearthed our mother, I feel it’s time.’

  Rose nodded. ‘Okay, what do you need to say?’

  ‘I’ve never told a soul this, not even Joel. He knows I’ve struggled with the past, yes, and he’s been good to me. I know he blames himself for the beating I got, but they’d have come after me anyway at some point.’

  Rose reached for the jug of water on the table and poured another glass of water, before passing it to him. ‘Go on.’

  ‘There are people among us who knew all along what had happened to my mother. Do you know how hard that is to live with? To know they were walking the streets unaffected. Breathing the same clean air and enjoying the beauty of a summer’s day?

  ‘You said something the other week, at the Europa: that we might all know something of significance without realising it. Well, for years there was something that I kept buried. I didn’t think it had any bearing and I didn’t want to dwell on it.’

  Rose sat forward.

  ‘You have to remember, I was a child. I didn’t even understand what I was seeing until years later. It was late and I was sleepy.’

  ‘Okay Eamonn, take your time.’

  He took a deep breath.

  ‘Something had woken me. At first, I thought it was Cormac snoring or one of the girls gurning over something, but then I heard it again. A low rumble of voices and something else I couldn’t distinguish. It was definitely coming from down the stairs. I climbed out of bed. I can remember noticing the moonlight and how it illuminated the whole room, making it look like I was viewing it through a blue lens. Funny how little details like that stay with you.

  ‘I crept down the stairs as quietly as I could and went towards the room at the back of the house. But then something made me hesitate. I don’t know what it was but somehow, I knew I shouldn’t make myself known. I pushed gently on the door, opening it just an inch. It was then that I saw them.’

  ‘Who, Eamonn, who did you see?’

  ‘My mother. With him – Father Ryan.’

  He stopped and refilled his glass. ‘There he was with her. She was sitting on his lap, her head thrown back as if she was possessed by the devil himself. Her nightdress, the cotton one she always wore – white with little sprigs of blue flowers – was open and her breast was exposed. He was worrying at it with his face. His hand was between her legs. She was my mother but not my mother. The strangeness of it unnerved me. My world skidded to a halt. Everything felt wrong and rotted. I felt sick and quietly backed away from the door before either of them saw me.’

  Rose could see a flush of heat scorch his face. She couldn’t tell if it was shame, embarrassment, or anger. Dancing flecks of dust were illuminated by the morning light, but the room felt strangely still.

  ‘I was only about five or six. Too young to make sense of what I was seeing – like I said – but I knew what they were doing was wrong. I thought of my daddy, away working and how he would be so angry that this priest was in our house at night time. I crept back to bed, shaking, and spent the rest of the night tormented by the image. But then, the next morning, all was normal. The girls were fighting over socks, Cormac was giving me dead arm punches and Ma was bustling about the kitchen making us porridge. I figured, how could she be so ordinary if the night before had happened? In my mind, that scene had changed everything, but everyone was acting like it was a typical day. I couldn’t make it right in my head, you know?’

  ‘You were very young, Eamonn.’

  ‘In the end, it was easier to try to pretend I had dreamed it. I tried to block it out. Now though, the image keeps coming back to me. It’s like a spool of thread unravelling. Things I didn’t know I knew are swirling round my brain. I can’t get any peace.’

  He looked totally dejected and lost. ‘I can’t help thinking, what if I’d told someone then. Would anything be different now?’

  CHAPTER 57

  Edmund Ryan. He was a like a bad smell that hung over the case notes. From Katy Carberry’s recollections, to the testimony, there was something not right about how this man presented himself to the world. Why did he suddenly move away after Eden’s disappearance and why was the testimony available to Rose suggesting he was dead when she knew for a fact he was alive?

  Rose picked up the phone and dialled Marni in Boston. It would be late afternoon there, so she hoped that the parish secretary would still be around.

  ‘Hello, is that Marni?’

  After some pleasantries, Rose enquired about Father Ryan. She wanted to be certain that Marni had been exhaustive in her search.

  ‘Yes, he is most definitely alive. We received a Christmas card from him last year, and I’ve just found out our Monsignor and he occasionally share letters.’ Rose could hear the glee in her voice. Marni appeared to have enjoyed her digging around. She was probably one of those real-life crime fanatics that like to think they could piece together a murder investigation from the safety of their living room sofa.

  ‘In fact, I’ve been able to get the address for you of the retirement home.’ She practically sang it. Rose took down the details and hung up. Marni would be congratulating herself for being a useful citizen.

  Belfast to Bray. It couldn’t be that far, could it? She looked it up. It was on the far side of Dublin. Two and a half hours of driving.

  She found Danny at his desk.

  ‘Fancy a road trip?’

  ‘Will it take long?’

  ‘Mmm, it might do.’

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘Bray,’ she said, certain he would tell her to piss off.

  He shook his head. ‘Rosie, you are a frigging distraction. Please tell me this has something to do with the case and that it might be worth my time.’

  ‘It has something to do with the case and it will be worth your time. I hope.’

  She told him about Eamonn’s story of finding the priest with his mother when they were on the road.

  ‘If Eden had been having an affair with him, then that puts him in the frame,’ she said, looking out the window. Danny was driving. The sun was setting over the hills and the sky was streaked amber and indigo, with a suggestion of a storm coming.

  ‘Possibly. It’s definitely worth checking out, but priests get moved from parish to parish all the time. His time at St Malachy’s could just have been up.’

  ‘But he vanished out of Northern Ireland. Wound up in Boston. That suggests to me that he – or the church – was putting distance between himself and Belfast. I want to know why. It isn’t a leap of imagination to think
the church was protecting him. There’s been plenty of examples of paedophile priests being sheltered. Send them to confession and park them in some other parish until their crimes have been forgotten. Ryan could have been sent away for a reason connected to Eden.’

  ‘True. Rose, find something worth listening to on that radio. If I have to hear shite music all the way to Bray, I’ll be a grumpy bastard by bedtime.’ She turned through the radio channels until she picked up Hozier.

  ‘Ah Christ, that’s as bad as Ed Sheeran.’

  ‘Fine.’ She kept searching and only stopped when she’d found Melody’s Echo Chamber, knowing he’d stop complaining.

  ‘Look, we’re passing over the infamous English border.’

  ‘Don’t you mean the Irish border?’

  ‘Nope, Tonto. Common misconception. The English imposed the border on the Irish, remember.’

  He started talking in a send-up of Ian Paisley. ‘Even I, as a fully paid up member of the Ulster Protestant community, can accept that reality.’

  ‘And look at all the hassle it’s caused with Brexit.’

  ‘Serves them right. Soft border or hard border, it’s all about protecting territory and political gain.’

  Rain began to fall, heavy rods drilling down onto the car, as the sky darkened with menace.

  ‘The sunshine wasn’t going to last forever. At least my Da will be happy that the farm’s getting a soaking,’ Danny said.

  At some point, Rose drifted off to sleep. She woke when they had reached Dublin. Even though it had gone seven o’clock, the traffic was still heavy.

  ‘Shouldn’t be too long now. Do you fancy stopping for a bite to eat before we track down yer clergyman?’

  ‘Yes, definitely.’

  They pulled into a restaurant and headed inside.

  After the waiter had taken their orders, Rose decided to try to be the type of friend she felt Danny needed. She knew his marriage breakdown still played on his mind. It went against her personality to pry, but she figured that in order to help him through it, she was expected to ask difficult questions.