Murder at the Holiday Home

by David Pearson

  Fahy was now standing over the man with her pistol pointed at his head.

  “Give me a reason,” she said. “Just flinch, and you’re a dead man.”

  Lyons had come into the shop behind Fahy, and quickly stepped over to take Essig’s gun and make it safe, putting her own pistol away too.

  Flynn was on the phone, calling for an ambulance. Mrs Birchall was propped up against the shop counter, sobbing uncontrollably. When Lyons had disarmed Essig, she went over to her and started to console the woman.

  “It’s all over now, Teresa. Don’t worry, you’re fine, and you did very well. And look on the bright side – this will do your business no harm at all when it gets into the papers. They’ll be queueing down the street to come in and buy something.”

  At this, the woman gave a nervous giggle. Lyons recognised that Teresa Birchall was in shock, and gently led her to the back of the shop where there was a rudimentary kitchen. Lyons made two mugs of strong sugary tea, and sat Teresa down to drink it.

  The ambulance arrived at the end of the narrow street and two paramedics jogged down to the shop. Fahy recognised the girl in the green uniform.

  “Hi, Jane. This one has taken a bullet to his knee, but I don’t think it’s too serious. Can you patch him up as quick as you can? We need to interview him. And don’t be too gentle with him,” Fahy said.

  The paramedics started working on Essig, cutting away his shredded pants, and tending to the would which by now had almost stopped bleeding. Fahy’s aim had been good, the damage was quite modest, but the leg probably very sore.

  “The bullet went straight through, Sally. We’ll bandage him up and give him an anti-tetanus jab and a few Paracetamol and he’ll be grand. He won’t be playing football for a week or two though,” Jane said.

  “Don’t worry about that. He won’t be playing football where he’s going anyway.”

  Lyons arranged for a Garda car to take Teresa Birchall home when she had finished her tea. She was recovering slowly from the ordeal, and thanked Lyons for her consideration, asking that the shop be well secured before they left, and handing over the alarm codes.

  “Don’t worry, Teresa, we’ll make sure it’s well locked up. We just need to take a good few photographs, as a firearm has been discharged. Sorry about the carpet. Maybe tomorrow, if you’re feeling up to it, you could come in to Mill Street and make a statement?” Lyons said.

  “Yes, of course. I’ll get Gerard to open up here, and I’ll drop down at about ten-thirty.”

  “Perfect. And if I may ask, be careful what you say to the media – you know what they are like – this is all part of a bigger enquiry involving some pretty nasty stuff,” Lyons said.

  “Yes, OK. I’ll just stick to what I know, if it arises, and thanks again, you were great, all of you.”

  * * *

  It was nearly seven o’clock when Lyons, Flynn and Fahy got back to the station. They found Hays chatting to Janssen in the open plan office. Mary Costelloe, Liam Walsh and John O’Connor were there too talking amongst themselves.

  Hays stood up when he saw the team arriving.

  “Well done, everybody. A great result. Come in and tell us all about it.”

  The three detectives told the story without elaboration, each of them contributing their own element so that no detail was left out. When they had finished, Lyons took the floor.

  “That’s about it, folks, and I’m sorry to put a damper on the euphoria, but we’re a long way from getting a conviction. We still can’t tie Essig to Maria Geller’s murder, or the other guy either. So we have a lot more to do. But I will say it was thanks to Sally’s quick thinking, and even quicker response that the situation at the jewellers was resolved without loss of life. If she hadn’t acted when she did, quite possibly Teresa Birchall would have been shot dead, so well done, Sally. Now, you take your gun and the spent shell back to the armoury and start the paperwork. Sinéad will get Essig’s bullet out of the ceiling tomorrow when she’s down there doing her forensic bit.”

  Fahy and Flynn left the room to go and check in their weapons. Fahy would have to write a very detailed report on the discharge of her firearm, and the sooner she got started on it the better.

  When they had gone, Hays said, “I might see if we can get a commendation for Fahy out of this. She was very brave, and showed damn fine judgement, if you ask me.”

  “I agree, Mick. Good idea,” Lyons said.

  “Right, well, what next?” Hays asked.

  “Now we start trying to put the whole thing together. We’ll have to see what forensic evidence we can get against Essig. We will also have to see if he’s prepared to talk at all about what’s going on, but we’ll leave him in the cells for tonight. I’ll start interviewing him in the morning with Eamon,” Lyons said.

  “I wonder if I could be of any help?” Janssen asked.

  “Let me think about that overnight, Luuk. I’d like to get you involved if we can, but just now I’m not quite sure how. But I’ll think of something, don’t worry,” Lyons said.

  “If I were you, Luuk, I’d be very worried indeed. This officer has something of a reputation for unconventional policing, so watch out,” Hays said with a big smile.

  On the way home, alone in her car, Lyons called Peadar Tobin on his mobile.

  “Hello,” he said.

  “Peadar, it’s Maureen Lyons. Look, is there any chance you could arrange another date with your friend from Westport – Rami, was it?”

  “Hmmm, probably. What’s up?”

  “I need to know when McCutcheon has his next romantic liaison arranged with his little Dutch friend. And obviously we can’t ask Ineke or McCutcheon. Do you think you can find out for me?” Lyons said.

  “I’d say so. I’ll call her and see if she’s free for a drink later on and I’ll drive over.”

  “Great, thanks Peadar, but for heaven’s sake, don’t get caught out.”

  “Don’t worry on that score, Inspector, I’ll be very careful,” Tobin said.

  “Right. Oh, and let me know at once if you find anything out. Thanks.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  The following morning, before Lyons went down to the interview room to start discussions with Dieter Essig, she cornered John O’Connor as he arrived for work.

  “John, did you get anything from the phone or the laptop?”

  “I sure did, boss. Lots in fact. I’m nearly finished writing it up in the system, but there are texts and emails between Geller and Essig going back a good while, and though they don’t mention gold specifically, it’s pretty clear that’s what is being referred to.”

  “Excellent. Any evidence that they had a meeting arranged for the night she was killed?” Lyons asked.

  “Not quite that specific, but there is an email from Essig that says ‘See you at 22 at nine o’clock. Have goods with you’.”

  “That’ll do me. Make sure all that evidence is secured. Did Sinéad get anything from the gold that we brought back in from the jewellers last night?”

  “I’m not sure, boss. She’s gone back out there this morning. Would you like me to call her?” O’Connor said.

  “Yes, please. You know what we’re looking for – fingerprints or any other trace evidence that can link it to Geller. I think I’m beginning to figure out what happened, but we’ll see.”

  As Lyons went to leave the room, Janssen walked in.

  “Hi, Luuk. Listen, I do want your help this morning. If you could just wait here for a while, I’ll call you down to join the interview, and when you come into the room, just follow my lead. OK?”

  Lyons had decided to start the interview on her own with Essig. Of course, the duty solicitor would be present, and a uniformed Garda, but she didn’t want to bring in any of the other detectives for the moment. She grabbed a coffee on the way downstairs, and entered the room where Essig was seated alongside a young man in a suit whom she took to be the solicitor.

  When all the introduction had been completed, the
duty solicitor asked, “What exactly are you intending to charge my client with, Inspector?”

  “It’s a bit soon for that, Mr Mulvaney. We will have to see how this interview goes, and if your client is prepared to co-operate with us.”

  “And what is it that you think he can help you with?” Mulvaney asked.

  “We have a number of charges that we are considering. They include robbery; assault; illegal possession of a firearm; attempted murder of a police officer, and quite possibly two counts of actual murder.”

  Mulvaney raised his eyebrows and made some notes on his jotter. Essig remained silent with a contemptuous look on his face.

  “And I assume you have evidence to back up these allegations, Inspector,” the solicitor said.

  “Look, why don’t you stop fishing Mr Mulvaney, and let me get on with doing my job. Otherwise we’ll be here all day!”

  Lyons started by asking where Essig was on the night Maria Geller had been murdered. He made no response, so Lyons went on to say that they had evidence that he had arranged to meet the woman on the night she was killed at nine o’clock. Still, there was no response of any kind from the suspect.

  She then turned her attention to the gold, asking how he had come into possession of the hoard that he had left at the jeweller’s shop to have valued with a view to a sale.

  “My client denies ever being in possession of any gold, Inspector. Unless you can prove it, this is all fabrication,” Mulvaney said.

  “I have his fingerprints all over a number of gold items, and I have a witness statement identifying your client as the man who brought a consignment of the stuff into her shop with the intention of selling it to her. I also have the actual gold itself, and my forensic team are at this moment working to establish if this is part of the same haul that was found in Maria Geller’s house after she was murdered,” Lyons said.

  Neither man made any reply, so Lyons went on.

  “And if I were in your shoes, Mr Mulvaney, I would advise my client to start co-operating with this enquiry immediately in the hope that it might in some way mitigate the very serious circumstances in which he finds himself.”

  Again, both men remained silent.

  Lyons tried a few different approaches to get Essig to open up, but none of it had any effect. He remained stoically silent with the same glum look on his face, and the only response she could get from either of them was the occasional interruption from the solicitor challenging some assertion she had made. After a further forty minutes, she decided to switch things around and left the room.

  Fahy and Flynn were next to have a go at loosening the tongue of the recalcitrant Essig.

  When Fahy entered the interview room, she asked Essig how his knee was, and if it was still very painful. He simply grunted. When he saw Flynn though, the reaction was different. He whispered in Mulvaney’s ear, and the solicitor immediately spoke up.

  “My client tells me that Inspector Flynn here was impersonating the owner of a jewellery shop yesterday afternoon. You do realise, I suppose, that that is grounds for entrapment,” he said coolly.

  “Just as well I was there,” Flynn said, “otherwise he would almost certainly have killed the woman behind the counter in an effort to escape captivity.”

  Fahy leaned in across the table and looked Essig straight in the eyes.

  “Why don’t you tell us all about it, Dieter. We know that this is all being run by some eastern European mob. We know you are only a small player – very dispensable. They won’t think anything of sacrificing you to twenty or more years in jail here. Or maybe worse. So, now would be a good time to help yourself by helping us. Who is behind your gold smuggling scheme?”

  Essig said nothing, but returned Fahy’s look with a fierce contempt. He then spat at her, leaving a trail of sputum slowly running down her cheek.

  Fahy took a tissue from her pocket and wiped it away.

  “That’s another charge we can add to the sheet, and this is a good one, because it has been witnessed by an officer of the court as well as another police officer – isn’t that right, Mr Mulvaney?” she said.

  “You clearly provoked him, Sergeant. What did you expect?” Mulvaney said.

  “Well, it’s the least of his worries. Does the name Matis Vitkus mean anything to you, Mr Essig?” Fahy said.

  There was no response from the suspect, but Fahy noticed his eyes flare a little – a sure sign that he had recognised the name.

  “Who is this person, Sergeant, and what connection does he have to my client?”

  “At this very moment, our forensic team is matching the bullet that killed Mr Vitkus to the gun we removed from your client in the jeweller’s shop yesterday afternoon. We will find your client’s prints on the shell casing recovered from Vitkus’ bedsit room, giving us proof that your client murdered Vitkus, possibly because he thought Vitkus had gone to the police, or was being careless with some stolen property.”

  “That is all conjecture. I’ve never heard such wild unsubstantiated accusations. Really, Sergeant, if you are not going to charge my client, I must insist you release him at once,” Mulvaney protested.

  “Oh, but we are going to charge him, Mr Mulvaney. But you’ll have to be patient a little longer. Would you and your client like a comfort break?” Flynn said.

  * * *

  Sinéad Loughran had left two of her team at Birchall’s shop, and had returned to her lab close to Mill Street Garda Station. She had supervised the matching of the bullet from Essig’s gun to the one that was retrieved from Vitkus’ room. She was happy that the match would stand up in court, and she passed the information on to Lyons as soon as she could.

  Now that they had a clear set of fingerprints from Dieter Essig, they could compare them to prints and partial prints that they had been able to recover from various items connected to the murder of Maria Geller. It would take time, but Loughran was sure that they would come up with something useful.

  Lyons had a short chat with Luuk Janssen who was waiting patiently in the open plan area, and the two of them headed back down to the interview room where Essig and his solicitor had been provided with coffee.

  Lyons and her companion entered the room, and took their seats opposite Essig.

  “Mr Essig, allow me to introduce Special Investigating Agent, Luuk Janssen. Mr Janssen is from Europe, and has been sent over to assist us with this matter. You may recognise him – he was the man who purchased the stolen laptop from you in the pub the other day,” Lyons said.

  “Really, Inspector, I must protest. This is highly irregular. What jurisdiction has Mr Janssen got?” Mulvaney said.

  “Don’t worry on that score, Mr Mulvaney. Mr Janssen is here on the highest authority, believe me.”

  Janssen then began to speak.

  “Mr Essig. We have been following your progress for some time now, and I can assure you, with the help of the Gardaí, we have enough evidence against you to put you away for a very long time indeed. And even after you are released from Irish custody, after many years, you will be deported to Europe where you will serve a lot more years in prison. So, for you, Mr Essig, the game, as they say, is up.”

  Janssen paused to let the significance of what he had said sink in before continuing.

  “Of course, there are some among the higher ranks here in Ireland who would rather not prosecute you. They don’t like spending lots of money keeping people in prison who should rightly be incarcerated in other countries, and after all none of your victims are Irish. It has been suggested that it might be easier for all concerned if you were to be deported, without charge here in Ireland. Romania has been suggested, where I believe you have certain contacts already. But of course, before you go back there, we would advise your connections of the tremendous assistance you had provided to the Irish and international police with names and locations of a number of gang members. We would even round up a few of these men just to make the point.”

  At this, Essig became very agitated and his
eyes were wide with fear.

  “You can’t do that,” he shouted, “it’s totally illegal.”

  Mulvaney shifted uneasily in his seat, but said nothing.

  “Not as illegal as some of the things you have been up to, Mr Essig. And besides, once you are back in Romania, you can take the matter up with the European Court of Justice if you believe your rights have been violated,” Janssen said.

  “European Court – pah! I’ll be dead, and you know it. What you say is nothing short of murder!”

  “As we say in Ireland, Mr Essig, ‘what goes around, comes around’,” Lyons said.

  Mulvaney could not remain silent any longer.

  “Hypothetically, of course, if my client were to provide some information that was of use to the authorities, how might it help him with the current issues?”

  “We would have to see what he could tell us, and what it led to. But if we could break this smuggling gang wide open, and put a good few of them behind bars, recover a good amount of the merchandise, we might be able to help him with some of the charges. But first, he needs to tell us all he knows. Otherwise, no deal,” Lyons said.

  “I need a little time to consult with my client, Inspector. May we say twenty minutes?” Mulvaney said.

  “Yes, fine. We’ll be back then,” she said as the two of them got up and left the room.

  “Wow. I see what Superintendent meant by unconventional methods. That was awesome. But what will you do with him after he has told you all he knows?” Janssen asked as they walked back upstairs.

  “I was thinking of handing him over into your custody, to be honest. Of course, we would provide all the evidence so that you could try him for murder, and some of us would attend the trial if you needed us. How would that work for you?”

  “I would be most grateful. I could take him back to Utrecht where I am sure we can charge him with many things. But what would your superiors say?”