The Galway Homicides Box Set

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The Galway Homicides Box Set Page 26

by David Pearson


  When they had finished their tea and biscuits, Hays and Lyons left Clifden and headed back to Galway. When they were underway, Lyons asked, “So what’s the story with the coin?”

  “Ah, yes. Well, if by any chance it was dropped by Ciaran O’Shaughnessy, we may be able to get a print off it.”

  “You’re kidding. Surely you can’t get a print off a coin, so many people would have handled it,” she said.

  “Yes, but I was reading the UK Police Gazette the other night, sad bastard that I am. Some outfit in Leicester have a new process that can recover prints from coins and identify the last person to have handled it. It’s been used a few times in cases over there already,” Hays explained.

  “So, that’s where our two euro is headed?” Lyons asked.

  “Dead right. And if Ciaran O’Shaughnessy was the last person to handle that coin, then that places him at the scene.”

  “Nice. Bit of a long shot though,” she said.

  “Let’s see what Mulholland comes up with. If, by any chance, we can get him filling up in Clifden and if the coin comes through, then we would have enough to charge him.”

  “A lot of ‘ifs’.”

  “Maybe. You do think he did it, don’t you?”

  “What I can’t understand is that O’Shaughnessy would have inherited his uncle’s shares and money in a few years in any case, so why try to rob him now?”

  “He’s desperate. His company is on skid row, he needed the money urgently. And besides, if the old man died naturally, the inheritance would have to be split between him and his sister in Scotland, so he’d only get half. And that’s assuming it was left to them in the first place.”

  “I wonder who he’s been borrowing from. I bet there’s a Limerick connection there somewhere. How could we find out?” Lyons asked.

  “I could ask Pat Dineen to have a sniff around and see if he can turn anything up. He probably knows who’s lending money in the area. I’ll give him a call later on.”

  By the time they reached Galway it had started to rain. The traffic was almost at a standstill, and it was after five o’clock, so Hays dropped Lyons off at her house and headed home. He had half-hoped that she would invite him in, but it didn’t happen.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Later that evening, at home in Salthill, Mick Hays called Pat Dineen in Limerick.

  “Hi Mick, how’s it going?” Dineen asked.

  Hays explained that he was still working on the O’Shaughnessy case and that he was hoping to find out if Ciaran O’Shaughnessy had borrowed from money lenders in Limerick to shore up his business.

  “To be honest, Mick, it’s a bit of a cesspit. There’s a lot of drug money sloshing around, and there’s no doubt that there’s some money lending going on. But we just haven’t got the resources to chase everything, so we concentrate on the drug traffic and do our best to stem the flow at that end. But listen, I have a few contacts here and there that I can talk to. I’ll see if I can dig up anything.”

  “We’re closing in on him, but we need a bit more to charge him.”

  “I’ll see what I can find out for you, but it could take a few days. I’ll get back to you.”

  “Thanks, Pat, cheers,” Hays said and hung up.

  * * *

  The next day at Mill Street Garda station things were getting busy again. John O’Connor was chasing down the speeding ticket that O’Shaughnessy had picked up on the Limerick to Galway road when he had told them that he was travelling south from Limerick to Cork.

  Lyons was intending to follow up with Mulholland about the CCTV from the garage, but she knew there was no point in calling him before late afternoon. Things moved at a different pace out there in Clifden, and by the time they had drunk their morning tea, sauntered down to the petrol station, gossiped with Ferris about all sorts, and actually got hold of the footage, it could be close to lunch time. And sure there would be no point in starting anything till after lunch, so Lyons reckoned it could be half past two before Dolan actually started looking at the video, that is if he hadn’t been called out on some urgent business, like a donkey loose on the road somewhere.

  Hays knew there was no point in trying to hurry Pat Dineen along either. The task he had taken on was a tricky one, and he would have to move carefully among the Limerick underworld if he was to get any useful information. Such matters had their own pace, and it usually wasn’t quick.

  Lyons came into his office carrying the bag containing the two euro coin that they had found in the grass out at Derrygimlagh.

  “Boss, are you sure about this? It seems like a very long shot to me,” she said.

  “Come in, Sergeant, take a seat, watch and learn.”

  Hays powered up his PC and turned the screen so that they could both see it. He launched his internet browser and typed a few words into the search bar.

  The first few items to appear related to how coin collectors can remove finger smudges from proof coins – just about the exact opposite of what they were about. But a few headings down the page there was an article about how police in the UK could now recover fingerprints from coins. It was a technique developed at the University of Leicester and involved placing the coin in a solution of chemicals that attach to any exposed metal when an electric current is applied. The fingerprints, which contain traces of grease, insulate the metal from the solution, thus creating a negative image of the fingerprint. Apparently, the technique could also be used to recover DNA from the coin.

  The article claimed a high confidence level for the technique, claiming an over ninety percent hit rate in controlled samples where students had allowed their fingerprints to be taken in the conventional way, and then had them compared to prints recovered from coins that they were carrying in their pockets or purses.

  “See, I told you. And if I’m guessing correctly, we’ll never need to satisfy a jury with this one,” Hays told the sergeant who was looking on clearly impressed.

  “So, can you get on to professor what’s-his-name in Leicester University and see if he would be willing to help out with our coin? We can send it across with a secure courier. I’m sure he’ll only be too glad to lend a hand on a real live case. What we want back is a clear print from the coin, and of course the coin itself.”

  “OK, boss, I’m on it. But what if the technique only works on British coins, and not on euros?” she said smiling.

  “Get out of here!” he laughed and threw a rolled-up piece of waste paper at her.

  * * *

  Hays had been right. Lyons got through to Professor James Lattimer with remarkable ease, and after exchanging a few pleasantries, he readily agreed to carry out the tests.

  He instructed Lyons to pack the coin in a plastic coin or medal container with no sponge or any organic material around it, and to send it by secure courier to him personally. He gave her the full address.

  ‘Secure courier’ meant that the item would be hand carried from A to B in a locked case, a small one in this instance, and the courier would have credentials to ensure that the case was not opened or interfered with, or scanned by x-ray which could spoil the evidence, and give a defence barrister an opportunity to cast doubt on its legitimacy. These couriers were quite often used between Ireland and the UK, and vice-versa when the police forces of both countries were cooperating on a case.

  Lyons took a five euro note from her purse and asked Sally Fahy to go downtown and get two of the required plastic containers of the correct size for a two euro coin.

  “Make sure it’s a good fit, that’s important,” she instructed.

  Then she got onto the superintendent’s office to arrange a courier for twelve o’clock. She looked up flights from Dublin to Leicester and found that either East Midlands or Birmingham Airport was the nearest. Consulting the airline timetables out of curiosity she found that the courier could be in Leicester by about half past seven that evening. She phoned the professor back to see if there would be anyone available to receive and sign for the coin
at that hour.

  “Certainly, I’ll be here myself. I rarely leave before nine anyway, and today I have to prepare a paper for an upcoming symposium, so I’ll be here, no problem.”

  “Thanks, Professor, oh and may I ask how long the procedure takes once you have the coin in your possession?”

  “It’s surprisingly quick. As it’s a live case as it were, it will need to be done in laboratory conditions, so I’ll get Dr Andrew Kerel to actually do the test. He’s fully accredited and has done several of these for the UK Police. We’ve had quite a few convictions now, based on this evidence. If your case comes to court, I’ll gladly send you the references.”

  “Thank you, Professor, that’s very helpful. You were saying how long it might take?” she prompted.

  “Oh yes, sorry. Kerel gets in around ten in the morning usually, so I imagine we’ll have a result around lunchtime tomorrow. I can email across anything we find.”

  “That would be terrific, thank you so much,” she said.

  “No trouble, Sergeant. Glad to be of help.”

  * * *

  Sally was back in the station half an hour later with one of her own two euro coins safely stowed in a little clear plastic box, and another just like it completely empty. It was a perfect fit – the coin didn’t even move around inside the container.

  “Thanks a million, Sally. Now could you get some tweezers and gloves, and we’ll transfer the Derrygimlagh coin to the empty container. Take your coin out and throw away the box before we start, so we don’t get mixed up. We don’t want your thumb print coming back from Leicester tomorrow!” she said.

  At exactly twelve o’clock the secure courier arrived and asked for Sergeant Lyons. Lyons was surprised to find a very attractive tall blonde girl with a mop of curly hair and an amazing figure, dressed in black from head to toe, waiting for her in reception.

  “Hi. I’m Angela Byrne,” she said holding out her hand, “well at least that’s what it says on today’s passport. You must be Sergeant Lyons.”

  “Call me Maureen. It always says the same on my passport! Come on up and I’ll give you the item.”

  The two women made their way upstairs where Lyons handed over the small package together with the address and the completed S-39 form to get the courier through security.

  “When do you think you’ll get there? It’s just that the professor will only be in his office till around nine,” Lyons said.

  “I’ll be there long before that. Probably around seven,” Angela said.

  “Are you flying to East Midlands?” Lyons asked.

  “Not likely. I never use EMA, they’re much too inquisitive. No, it’s Stansted for me with Ryanair, I’m afraid. It’s not luxurious, but at least it will be on time, and it’s just about two hours in a fast car after that,” the girl said.

  Lyons decided not to ask anything further about the courier’s travel plans. She clearly knew what she was about, which was what Lyons had been out to establish in the first place.

  Before she left, Angela asked, “Will there be a return trip for this?”

  “Yes, but it won’t be urgent. Next week will do.”

  “It may not even be me that gets it then, there’s quite a few of us doing this.”

  “Do you get to go anywhere nicer than the English Midlands?” Lyons asked as they walked downstairs again.

  “You bet! Mostly the US, Canada and occasionally South Africa or Australia. I was there last week,” the courier said.

  “Wow, sounds great. Bet the air miles clock up quickly,” Lyons responded.

  “We’re not allowed to collect them. And anyway, last week I was Deirdre O’Dwyer, so it wouldn’t be much use, I’m afraid.”

  Lyons said goodbye. She was completely bemused by the secret life of the secure courier and was still processing the whole encounter when she got back upstairs.

  “Who’s your new friend?” Hays asked.

  “I haven’t a clue. Today she’s Angela Byrne, last week she was Deirdre O’Dwyer, so I don’t know who the hell she is, and I’ve just given her what is potentially our strongest piece of evidence against Ciaran O’Shaughnessy!”

  “Well, whoever she is, she’s nicely packaged,” Hays said.

  “OK, tiger, you can put your eyes back in now,” she said, giving him a friendly dig in the ribs.

  The rest of the day passed quickly. The team busied themselves with emails and paperwork, bringing the computer system up to date with recent events. There was still no communication from Clifden.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  The following day started well. Lyons took a call from the professor at Leicester University. He told her that the courier had arrived safely at around eight o’clock and that the coin was now in the laboratory being indexed and photographed before the process could begin. He hoped to be back on later with some further news.

  Hays wasn’t happy that Mulholland had not been in touch about the CCTV from the garage. He felt he might lose it if he called Clifden himself, so he asked Lyons to put in a call to see if they had found anything.

  “Ah, good morning, Sergeant. I was just about to call you,” Mulholland said when Lyons telephoned.

  “Jim Dolan spent most of the afternoon yesterday looking at the CCTV. Now, just to be sure, it’s a blue BMW 3 Series, registration number zero, eight, C, nine, six, five, zero, one?”

  “Yes, that’s the one. Did you find it?” Lyons responded, trying hard not to sound impatient.

  “Yes, we did. The time stamp showed three-twenty, but it could have been four-twenty, because Ferris says he doesn’t reset the camera for summer time,” Mulholland said.

  “For fuck’s sake, Séan. Well, at least you have him. Did he just fill up the car?”

  “Yes, looks like it. And he didn’t hang around.”

  “Do you know if he paid by card or cash, Séan?” she asked.

  “Oh no, I never asked. But I’ll get onto Ferris now and ask him to look at the till roll for that afternoon. That should tell us.”

  “Thanks, Séan, do that. And call me right back.”

  “Of course, I will,” he said.

  * * *

  True to his word, Mulholland rang back in a few minutes and reported that O’Shaughnessy had spent €58.30 on fuel, and paid in cash.

  “Thanks, Séan, that’s great. Be sure to preserve the CCTV footage. That’s evidence.”

  Lyons relayed the new information to Hays.

  “Good, well now we have two more pieces of the jigsaw,” he said.

  “Two?” she asked.

  “Yes. First, he lied to us. And second, we can place him in the vicinity at around the time the murder was committed. If that coin turns out to be any use to us, we may just have enough to charge him.”

  “Boss, I’ve been thinking.”

  “Oh-oh. Go on.”

  “Well, we have focussed most of our efforts on the nephew, and of course the QFA. What if it wasn’t either of them? Do you think we should be pursuing other lines of enquiry as well?”

  “Such as?”

  “I don’t know, but don’t you think we should be looking at least?”

  “Normally, I’d say yes. But let’s look at this case,” he said. “What motive other than extortion could there be? And who else would have wanted to harm the poor old devil?”

  “Yes, but if this doesn’t pan out, we’re going to look pretty stupid.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Firstly, I think it will pan out, and if it doesn’t, it’s down to me. I’m the senior officer, so I’ll take what’s coming.”

  “OK, I hear you, but obviously I don’t want you to come a cropper on it,” she said.

  “What would you have us do?” Hays asked.

  “I think we should get Eamon to open up a new line of enquiry. Spend some time out there. Talk to the neighbours, interview the nurse again, that sort of thing. What do you think?”

  “It can’t do any harm I suppose, even if it’s just a ‘cover your ass’ tactic.
OK then, set it up. Send him out there and get him to report back twice a day till he’s done. And you’d better tell your friend Séan that we are invading his patch again, not that he’ll care much.”

  “Right, boss. Will do.”

  * * *

  At two o’clock Lyons took a call from Professor Lattimer at Leicester University.

  “Hello, Sergeant. I just thought I’d call you to let you know that Dr Kerel has finished with the two euro coin that you sent us, and he has been able to get quite a good thumb print from it. Certainly good enough for our police to match up. We have to convert it from negative to positive for you, but I should be able to send it across by email in about an hour.”

  “That’s terrific, Professor. Thank you so much, and thank Dr Kerel for us too,” she said.

  “Do call me James, Sergeant, and it’s no trouble. We like having real cases to work on, and we don’t get many euro coins in these parts.”

  Lyons thanked him again and when she had hung up she went straight into Hays’ office to tell him the good news.

  “Well, that’s good anyway. Are the prints that they took in Cork in the system yet?” he said.

  “I’ll check now, but I’m sure they will be.”

  “Right, as soon as you get the image from the UK, get John onto it and let’s see if we have a match!”

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Hays wasn’t expecting the call from Pat Dineen in Limerick quite so soon, nevertheless, he was glad to get it.

  “Jesus, Pat, that was quick. Have you found anything out?” he said.

  “As they say, Mick, ‘the impossible we can do at once, miracles take a bit longer’. But it’s a right pile you’re after digging up here, mate. This guy is in well over his head. It’s a wonder he still has all his limbs,” Dineen reported.

  “How so?”

 

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