Kilmoon: A County Clare Mystery (19 page)

• 38 •

The second day of Marcus’s internment at Callahan House found him rocking in the so-called drawing room, a room filled with worn chintz-covered chairs and sofas. He tilted the rocker back and let it tip forward. The repetitive movement soothed him because it was similar to the drunken sensation he used to feel while sitting still. Television chatter issued from the sitting parlor next door and cards slapped against the game table. Despite these little comforts, he could still walk out, yes, he could, and it might be that he would tonight when everyone was at dinner. Too many jitters in this place for his liking.

A door creaked and Mistress Callahan herself called out, “Team A, group therapy in the blue room. Team B, stress management in yellow. Team C, you’re stretching and breathing in purple.”

Murmurs and footsteps receded as the other inmates filed out with varying degrees of disgruntlement. Marcus opened his eyes. A lank-haired teenager and her dolly stared at him.

“They get this team stuff from the States. Big in the States, all this.” She nodded to herself and rocked on her feet. “You’re in my chair, by the way. That’s my chair.”

Mistress Callahan appeared again to beckon the girl. “Come, Poppy, Dr. Frank will see you now. Marcus, you troublemaker, you’re next. Afterward we’ll assign you to a team.”

Marcus slipped back into a rocking lull and tried to ignore the tingles that poked the tips of his fingers, not to mention the stretched-out-ear-drum sensation inside his skull. A moment later, trotting steps roused him. “I’m after seeing a woman in the lobby,” the girl, Poppy, said. “Asking after you. Said your name, that she did.”

Marcus rose to his feet and clutched at a paneled edge of wainscoting until his vision cleared. Merrit back so soon? He steered himself toward the lobby through a series of connecting doors that led from the drawing room to the sitting parlor to the visitor’s lounge, each room more frilled than the next. Merrit might like the curio cabinets.

In the lobby, however, he was met by a mirage. He had to be around the bend to conjure his own daughter. Raving, that’s what, and he’d continue to think so if she didn’t just then pull fingers through her hair in an impatient gesture he recognized. Ellen, his Ellen, who’d gained a stone but still stood with dignity. Maybe it was her haste to see Marcus that had her pairing one of Danny’s wool sweaters with a cotton skirt. Not that Marcus cared. His Ellen. Here. Danny had always said to give her time. He blessed himself and patted down his hair, ready to tap her shoulder.

“No message for him.” Her voice snipped at the attendant. “I’m simply verifying my husband’s utter disregard for my feelings.”

Marcus shuffled backward, hands limp at his sides.

“We called because you’re listed as the emergency contact person,” the attendant said. “Obviously, a mistake.”

No mistake. That was Danny assuming the best out of all circumstances—that there’d be no emergency, but if it should so happen, that Ellen would open her heart. Mad foolishness. Marcus peeked around the doorframe for a last look at his Ellen.

“Everything is fine now,” the attendant said. “We calmed him with a light sedative, and he’ll be seeing a counselor today.” At Ellen’s snort, the attendant’s tone dropped to careful sympathy. “It’s always difficult to—”

“His overnight guest—long reddish-brown hair?”

“Yes. And she looked none too good herself when I arrived to help Mrs. Callahan.”

“I’ll bet.” Ellen glared around the lobby with an observant eye toward the varnished stair rails and antique copper plate pictures. Marcus ducked back when she turned in his direction. “Hand me over a copy of your fee schedule, if you please.”

Holy Mary, help Danny now.

A derisive laugh erupted from Ellen. “You’d better be serving lobster and caviar for this price, and my father better graduate fully recovered. If he so much as sips cough syrup in his lifetime, I’ll see to it you’re forced to take him back at no charge. Relay that message to whom it may concern. Otherwise, no other word of my visit.”

The front door slammed shut, followed by muffled oaths from the attendant. Marcus stepped into the lobby.

“Got a tongue that would clip a hedge, that one,” the attendant said.

Marcus peered out the entrance window. Ellen bounced her car off the curb with a squeal of tires. Pessimism settled on him like a tired reminder. Try as he might to imagine a life without alcohol, he couldn’t. Even before his slide, he’d liked his pints as well as the next bloke. “You tell me, what else is there to drink in a pub anyhow?” he muttered.

Mistress Callahan appeared before him in that uncanny way of hers. Her blouse sagged where breasts should prop up the crinkled silk. Too bony for his taste, but a kind smile she had when she chose to bestow it.

“Water, soda, coffee, juice, but you’re a long way from that.” She held out a manicured hand. “Come. Almost your turn.”

He let her drag him past bulletin boards filled with schedules, memos, and thank-you notes. She talked about the counselor, Dr. Frank, but Marcus stopped listening. In truth, the deal was done. Now that Ellen knew the course Danny had set for him, Marcus had no more choices. None that made sense anyway. After seeing her hunched over the reception desk, her resentment bristling, he at last understood that she’d never let herself heal until he gave her reason for hope.

• 39 •

The Mazda with sunroof and leather interior sat on tractor ruts in the cow pasture adjacent to Kilmoon Church. The car sat well off the road as if Kate had wanted to avoid notice. Danny stepped aside when the scenes of crime team lugged their equipment over from the church. Benjy followed them, grumbling about needing to get Kate’s body onto a slab.

“My surprise guest should be arriving in a few minutes,” Danny said. “And then I plan to be gone before Clarkson arrives.”

Benjy pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, sniffed it with a sigh, and tucked it away again. “Forgot about Clarkson. I’ll be needing to wait for him anyhow. My sorry luck.”

The men started in with photographing and gathering evidence. O’Neil arrived with Merrit at his side. “What do I do with her now?” he said, and sneezed into a soggy handkerchief.

“Barricade her in my car until I’m done here.”

One of the men snapped a picture of Kate’s purse, which perched on the driver’s side seat, and another of her keys in the dirt beside the car. “Car doors were unlocked,” he noted. Then he pulled a power cord from the back seat. He let it dangle before dropping it into an evidence bag.

“I didn’t see her computer the night Marcus and I visited her place,” Merrit said as O’Neil dragged her away. “Just so you know.”

Danny wondered at her current calm. She still drooped, still looked pallid, but compared with their previous encounters she appeared panic-free. O’Neil walked her along the tractor ruts toward the lane where their various vehicles were parked. Benjy followed, striking up a cigarette and inhaling with a pleasured groan. Danny lost sight of them as they disappeared behind the hawthorn. A moment later, one of the scenes of crimes men popped open the Mazda’s trunk to reveal an empty laptop bag, which bloody well figured. He wouldn’t be surprised if Ivan had gotten his hands on Kate’s laptop and saved it for himself. Bloody Ivan.

Benjy’s voice called out from the lane. “Danny, come see to your guest!”

Speaking of the twitchy little devil. Danny checked his watch. Clarkson would be arriving any time now. Danny trotted out to meet Ivan, who had been escorted to the site courtesy of one of Lisfenora’s finest uniformed guards. Upon seeing Danny, the officer waved Ivan out of his vehicle and reversed down the lane.

Ivan’s self-pitying expression went along with frizzed hair and an inside-out sweater. “I am not appreciating the Garda showing up outside the deacon’s house—it is not right. And you should know that you cannot harass me. Mr. O’Brien agreed to take over my sponsorship. In fact, I am to manage Internet Café, make proper business of it.”

“How did you manage that one?”

“Mr. O’Brien, he has his family reputation to think about. He was shocked when I told him how Lonnie earned his money. It was my duty to warn him, and to offer my computer services to him. It was logical business arrangement since I already know so much. About the business I mean.”

“You’re a model citizen, Ivanov.”

Ivan puffed up with a pleased smile. “Thank you. And when he knows me, he will see that Connie and I are perfect for each other. But that is just between you and me.”

Danny led Ivan toward Kilmoon Church, surrounded by her Celtic crosses and buried dreams. After haggling with the lead forensic technician, Danny signed himself and Ivan into the scene. They were safe to walk a precise path behind the technician toward the corpse, but only after they had donned the requisite white suits and booties. Danny would have hell to pay if Ivan turned out to be involved in Kate’s death. But then, Danny was already on Clarkson’s shit list. Why not truly tank his career by escorting a civilian into the crime scene?

Ivan had better make this farce worth the ass whipping Danny was in for.

They rounded the backside of the church. Blue harebell blooms dotted the grounds, and in the distance heather shimmered at the start of its autumnal turn to purple. A breeze sent whispers through the grass, and on the hillside, the standing stone pointed its shadow straight at enshrouded Kate.

Ivan squealed when he caught sight of the body bag.

Danny lunged after Ivan’s retreating form. Ivan’s bony shoulder shrank under this grip. “Guess who this is?”

“Liam, it is not Liam, is it? I swear this is not my doing. Just because I am wanting that my part in Lonnie’s schemes be quiet does not mean I do something like this. You must to believe me. All I wanted ever was to stay in Ireland. Why do you think I went to Mr. O’Brien? And even if I hated Lonnie, you know I am not killing him, so why would I kill Liam? I promise on this consecrated ground that Liam had no bad will for me.”

Ivan squirmed in Danny’s grip. Wiry fellow, Danny allowed, as he adjusted his fingers around Ivan’s arms. “Why would Liam have a grudge against you?”

Ivan’s squirming stopped. He stood still as one of the Celtic crosses that surrounded them. “
Blin
,” he muttered.

“Go on, then.”

“Remember your theory about a third blackmail victim?”

At Danny’s nod, Ivan whispered something.

“What was that?” Danny said.

“Liam! It was Liam. But I swear on—on any of these graves that Liam knew I was not to blame!”

Now it was Danny’s turn to go still as medieval stone. Goddamned Ivan. He wanted to throttle the little twot. “Why blackmail Liam?”

“His paternity issues, what else?”

“What else is what I’d like to know.”

“Nothing else.”

“And you told O’Brien Senior about Liam paying Lonnie?”

“Of course. No word can get out about that. Liam is too beloved. Would be too much scandal on the family. I have deal with Mr. O’Brien now.”

Danny stared at Ivan, thinking about how O’Brien Senior might go about ensuring that the reporters didn’t snuffle their way to this juicy bit of news. Promoting Ivan to manager ensured his silence, but then there was also Clarkson, who was sure to help O’Brien in any way he could. “And you’re telling me you haven’t tried to shake money out of Liam too?”

“You think I am continuing with that after getting good with Mr. O’Brien?” Ivan’s voice went up an octave. “I plan to marry Connie. Become a citizen. I cannot help you if that is what you are thinking. Why kill Liam, this is not making sense to me.” He yelped as if surprising himself. “Kate did it. She resented him more than healthy resentment. She is—she is—” He caught his breath. “
Blin
, I am upsetting by Liam’s death, I forget my English. She is a crazy—a nutter, that is what, and I am betting that if Liam was not giving her what she wanted—”

“Which was?”

“What do I know? I am not knowing. This is guess. And with Lonnie out of the way she was free to do what she wanted without trouble from him. She did not like Lonnie knowing Liam’s secrets. They were only meant for her to use. This is what I think anyway. She only paid Lonnie to keep him nice to her.”

“Tell me about Kate, and I might cut you some slack.”

Ivan raised his hands and let them fall. “That woman is wanting everything, so what do I know in specifics?”

“A lot more than you’re letting on.” Danny pointed toward the body bag. “You want to view Liam? Say a prayer?”

“Not on my life, no.”

Danny nodded to the technician, who hovered next to them, silent but attentive. The technician bent over the bag with hand poised above the zipper. Ivan flapped his arms, and Danny caught a whiff of his clammy body odor. Slowly, the technician pulled down the zipper. Ivan inched closer, apparently curious despite himself, and then reeled back when the plastic parted to reveal Kate’s icy half-lidded gaze. He bounced against Kilmoon’s wall, jostling a stone loose. He staggered back, tripping over one of the many other stones that had fallen over the years, and finally landed up against a tall Celtic cross. He glared at Danny. “Why did you not tell me it was Kate? You let me go on like idiot.”

“Nothing like a little shock treatment to bring out the truth. So, tell me, why did you kill Kate?”

Ivan’s squashed his hair down beneath his hands and shook his head. “I cannot believe this. This is impossible. I did not kill Kate. How could I? She would have eaten me alive if I even blinked at her wrong.”

“It’s obvious you didn’t like her.”

Ivan shrugged. “And so what? No one did. And besides, the same goes for her as it did for Liam. Why would I kill her when I had made good with Mr. O’Brien? I did not need Kate for a visa sponsorship anymore. I would only be her slave hacker like I was for Lonnie, but for Mr. O’Brien I am more than that.”

The technician pushed the zipper back into place, signaling that their time was up. He led them out of Kilmoon’s territory. Back on the rural lane, surrounded by official vehicles and hawthorn, Danny continued his questions.

“Tell me why you thought Kate would kill Liam. If she wanted everything as you say, I don’t see her killing him in such a hurry.”

Ivan pulled on his earlobe. If anything, his twitchiness increased. “I don’t know about that—I am confused—but I do know about Lonnie. Before the party, I was in my flat. I could hear him on the phone in his office. ‘The next installment, tonight,’ Lonnie is saying. I put my ear to ground and heard Kate too. She was spitting, never heard a woman sound like that, not even my mother. I was not catching all of it, but Kate told him he better watch his bogtrotter hide or she find a way to skin and dry it herself. She was threatening Lonnie before the party. That is all that I am knowing.”

“If Kate killed Lonnie, how did she get her hands on Liam’s knife? She wasn’t invited to the party, if you remember.”

Ivan wriggled. “That would be easy for her. She could get any man to invite her into the party. She is diabolical.”

“Convenient, isn’t it, that Kate isn’t here to defend herself. You and Merrit are operating on the same wavelength.”

“But you believe me about hearing Kate and Lonnie fight?”

“This is just the fact you’d tell me at your convenience, but I wouldn’t say I believe you, no. You’ll need to give a statement at the station anyhow.”

“I will do that. That is no problem. I am here to help.”

Danny’s mobile tweeted. A text message arrived from O’Neil, who stood farther down the lane next to Danny’s Peugeot. Clarkson was ten minutes away. Danny hurried Ivan out of his white suit, slipped out of his own, and dragged Ivan to the Peugeot. He’d have to take the long way back to Lisfenora to avoid passing Clarkson.

“Tell me about Kate’s laptop,” he said. “It’s nowhere to be found.”

“You blame me for everything. I see how this goes. Just like in Belarus.”

Danny aimed Ivan into the backseat next to Merrit. “Make good with Clarkson,” he said to O’Neil. “Tell him I arrived, figured this case was related to Lonnie’s death, and left.”

O’Neil snorted and sneezed. “Toeing the line.”

“Just so he thinks so.” He rolled down the window as he pulled away. “And get your arse home. You’ll cause a contagion.”

On the road to Lisfenora, Danny watched Merrit and Ivan through the rearview mirror. Merrit with a troubled frown, and Ivan biting his lower lip. Tweedle Dee, Tweedle Dum, each clutching what Danny suspected was the final fact of the matter, the fact that would explain everything.