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Kate waved her hand impatiently, ‘Stop it, Michael, you sound like a Bord Failte travel brochure or something.  We both know that far worse -and far stranger- things happen in Ireland every day so just listen; I
know
Shiels was hired to rob me.  The real question is
why
.
 
I can’t be sure but I think the person who hired Jimmy Shiels was a man called George Meagher.’

Michael blinked in surprise, ‘Never heard of him.  Should I have?’

‘No, but you met a friend of his.  Remember the night we went out for dinner?  The loony outside the restaurant?  That was a guy called Martin Wilson.’

‘Oh yes.  He was shouting about his friend being innocent and you slandering him.’

‘Right,’ agreed Kate, ‘His precious
friend
George Meagher.’  She took a deep breath and said, ‘It all began about twelve years ago, when I was a student.  One of my course assignments was an essay on denial.  Actually, it was on carried to the point of self-delusion.  I picked a man called Eddie Fearney as my subject.  He was accused of the rape and murder of three young girls in Kildare and Wicklow, and convicted of one of the killings.  He always denied having anything to do with any of the deaths, and even demanded a lie detector test to prove it, though of course they’re not permissible in Ireland.  Anyway, about six months into his sentence in Arbour Hill he committed suicide.  The interesting thing for me was that, in his suicide note, he
still
denied killing those girls, and said he was taking his own life because he couldn’t face spending the rest of his life in prison for something he hadn’t done.  Especially in a place like Arbour Hill, which was full of perverts and child-killers and the like.  He couldn’t bear being thought of as one of those, especially by his own kids.’

Michae
l shook his head impatiently, ‘His sensibility does him justice but it’s a long way from an ancient murder in Wicklow to a burglary in Monkstown!’

‘Be quiet and
listen!’ said Kate in a mock-severe tone, ‘The point of my paper was to show how a person can deny responsibility for something to the point where they start to believe it themselves, and stick to their story even in spite of overwhelming evidence against them.  I did a little research into the case for background material and guess what?  The evidence, far from being overwhelming, was so flimsy he should never even have been
tried
, much less convicted!  The more I dug the more convinced I became that he was telling the truth, that he really
was
innocent.’

Michael was still frowning but now in concentration as he strained to remember.
‘You know, I think I actually remember that case,’ he said slowly, ‘The trial made a big splash in the papers at the time.  But it was more like twenty years ago, wasn’t it?’

Kate shook her head
, ‘The actual murders were eighteen years ago now.  And the trial was already long over before I started looking into the matter.  Anyway, I found that the evidence that convicted him was purely circumstantial.  He had a record as a sex offender but that had been
years
before, when he was just a kid.  Actually, it was what we would now call a date rape, and a hotly disputed one at that; he claimed it was consensual sex that the lady, who was married, later regretted and so claimed was rape.  One way or another it put him on the police list of sex offenders, and he was one of hundreds they interviewed after those girls were killed.  He had type 0-negative blood and so did the killer, but of course so do thousands of others.  Anyway, the killer left traces of blood at one of the crime scenes and Fearney had a fresh cut on his right hand, so the police investigated him further.  Unfortunately DNA testing was still in its infancy in Ireland in those days, and the sample taken from the crime scene got tainted in some way, or Eddie Fearney might never have been convicted.  Anyway, the Gardai had a witness who had seen one of the murdered girls getting into a car with a man, and this witness positively identified Fearney as the man.  And, to be honest, that was pretty much all the evidence they had.  But the jury convicted him nonetheless, more or less totally on the strength of the eyewitness’s testimony. 
But that
testimony was total rubbish.
’

Michael was no longer sneering, but rather was listening intently, ‘Go on, then; why?’

‘Because the case was closed I was able to get a look at the police file, and I read the key witness’s initial statement.  In it he said that he hadn’t gotten a clear look at the man and probably wouldn’t know him again.  Yet he later made a positive identification, and testified to it in court.  Also, at first he said he thought the car she got into was yellow, while Fearney’s car was actually white.’

‘So why did he identify Fearney in court?’

Kate shook her head in frustration, ‘That’s one of the imponderables of the case, I’m afraid, and a blow to my theory.  But memory is a very subjective thing.  Studies have shown that two people can watch the same event and later give two substantially different reports about it.  Even
contradictory
reports.  And a hundred people might give a
hundred
different accounts, yet none of them would be deliberately lying.  This guy first identified Fearney from a photo of registered sex offenders, and the pressure on him from the interviewing Gardai might have been intense.  You know the sort of thing,
Could this be the man?  Are you sure?  Take another look.
  A surprising number of people will say yes, even if they
aren’t
sure.  People like to help, they don’t like to disappoint, and the police
will
push witnesses if they believe they have the right man.  I saw that for myself firsthand, in England.’

She shrugged
and took a drink of ice water before continuing, ‘It’s possible that the occasion got to him, too.  Being important, the star witness and focus of the whole case.  The media attention would have helped turn his head too.  He might even have convinced himself that it
was
Fearney he saw.  People can convince themselves of pretty much anything, if they try hard enough.’  She smiled suddenly, though without much humor, ‘That, after all, was the basis of my essay.’

‘So what did you do
about it all?’

Kate shrugged, ‘I went to the police and told them what
I thought and they more or less laughed in my face.  He was dead, after all, the case was closed, and they thought the idea of reopening an investigation to clear a corpse’s name was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.  A corpse they considered guilty.  Same reaction from the DPP.  There was nothing I could do so in the end I was forced to drop it.’

Michael shook his head dubiously,
‘This is all interesting enough in its way, but what has any of it got to do with your burglary?’

Kate leaned forward eagerly, ‘There was another s
uspect in the case; George Meagher.  He also had a history of sexual violence against women, and he too had O-negative blood.  Even better, he had a
yellow
car.  Unfortunately, he also had an alibi.  He was actually drinking in a pub only a couple of miles from where the third girl was killed, but the man he was with swore they were together all evening.  The girl was believed to have been picked up at about half-past eleven pm, and the alibi,
Martin
Wilson
, stated that Meagher didn’t drop him home until after one in the morning.  But I went to the pub and asked the owner a few questions, and he said that although he couldn’t swear to what time they left he hadn’t noticed them after eleven or so, and had told the police so.  He also said that Wilson was so drunk he could hardly stand, and that Meagher was practically holding him up at the bar at one stage.  The police interviewed Wilson again but he stuck to his story and anyway, Fearney had turned up as a suspect by then.  But if the two of them actually left the pub at eleven or so Meagher had plenty of time to drop Wilson home and still pick up the girl by half-past.  In fact the timing is perfect, because Wilson only lived ten minutes from the pub and Meagher would probably have passed the girl on the road on his way home.’

Michael frowned in confusion, ‘Okay,
it sort of makes sense, and maybe everything you said is true, but what has all this got to do with anything?  Why would this Meagher guy pay to have you burgled, much less kill your burglar?’

Kate sighed, ‘A few months ago I started digging into the case again
, to use in my book on sex offenders.  Apart from anything else I thought the people of Ireland should know if there’s a serial killer running around on the loose.  I had spoken to Wilson a couple of weeks before about the whole affair, trying to unearth new information.  I even tried to speak to Meagher but I couldn’t locate him.  He moved and left no forwarding address.  But Wilson would have told him I was writing a book, so he might have hired Shiels to steal my briefcase, to see what I’ve learned.  To see if the case was going to be reopened or if he was still safe.’

‘Mmm,’ said Michael doubtfully, ‘I suppose it’s
all just about possible, but it’s a bit unlikely.  The case is closed, so why would Meagher care what you wrote about him?  You can’t try two people for the same murder, not after one of them has already been convicted of it.’

‘Fearney was only convicted of
one
of the three murders,’ insisted Kate, who had had hours to think all this out, ‘If new evidence turned up the other cases could be reopened, and Meagher could be tried for the other killings.  And since Wilson’s reaction was so extreme when I approached him it occurred to me that they might even have committed the killings
together
.  Which would explain why Wilson is so worked up about a stupid book that might never get published.’

She sighed
and relaxed back into her chair, allowing the waiter to serve their food.  When he was gone she said, in a dispirited tone, ‘Listen, I know how thin all this sounds, how incredible, but it’s the only explanation I can think of for anyone paying Jimmy Shiels to steal my case.  All that was in it was Grainne’s file and the notes for my book.’

Michael nodded and said briskl
y, ‘If he really
was
hired to burgle you then it all makes sense.  But with Shiels dead it doesn’t really matter if it’s true or not, does it?  Anything he knew died with him.  The real point is that you might be in danger if Meagher still wants to see the draft of your book.’

Kate nod
ded, ‘I saw Wilson the other day and told him I was dropping the whole idea, that the book would never be written.  I told him to pass the word on to Meagher.’

Michael’s face cleared, ‘Then you’re in the clear!  Meagher won’t bother you again!’

Kate looked at him in disbelief, ‘That isn’t the point!  This guy is a
murderer
!  You think I want him to get away with it?’

‘Of course not!’ he replied impatiently, sounding annoyed, ‘Obvio
usly you have to tell the Garda all this, and hopefully they can do something with it.  I’m just glad that it sounds like you’re out of danger.’

He was anything but convincing, and Kate
concentrated on her food for the next few minutes, sensing that in spite of his words he just didn’t care, and so not adding that Fearney had had kids; what would it be worth to them to have their father’s name cleared? 
St. Kate,
she thought without amusement,
going forth on her white horse to right the wrongs of the world.  I don’t think.

After a pause Michael
began chatting again, turning the conversation to more general channels and leading Kate to wonder just how self-centered he really was; did he care about
no
one
but himself?  And if so, why was she there?  But that was not a question she wanted to pursue, and in fairness there was nothing they could do about it that night anyway.  And as the meal progressed she found herself relaxing and starting to enjoy his company again, and it occurred to her that perhaps what she needed most in her life just then was some uncomplicated, unthinking fun.  And Riordan was nothing if not simple and shallow.

When they had finished eating he said,
‘Would you like to go somewhere else with me afterwards?  For a drink or something?  If you like, I have a bottle of seventy-year-old brandy back at the apartment that we could sample together.  My brother-in-law isn’t home tonight so we’ll have some privacy, but he’s back from Cork tomorrow night so it could be our last chance for some time.’

Kate was silent for a moment.  There it was, the offer she
had been half expecting.  And perhaps hoping for?  She wasn’t sure.  The sex last time hadn’t exactly been earth shattering but it certainly hadn’t been unpleasant either.  And sex was something that, with a new partner, tends to get better after the first nervous, tentative encounters.  To buy some time she said guilelessly, ‘Cork?’

‘Yes, Josh i
s an architect and he’s working on a big project down there.  Luckily.  Between you and me I couldn’t have stayed this long if he’d been living there with me full time.  I like my privacy.  But he generally only comes up at weekends so it works pretty well.  I should be able to move back into my own house in a couple of months, and although it might sound ungrateful I’ll be glad to be back home.  Anyway, what about it?  Is it back to my place?’