The Celtic Riddle (27 page)

"But why don't you try working in someone else's antiques shop for a
while?" I concluded. "You could learn about keeping the books, ordering
supplies, advertising, and promotion and so on. Or why," I said,
suddenly having a brainwave, "why don't you go and work in one of your
father's businesses, the import/ export one, for example? You could
arrange that, couldn't you?"

Eithne bit her lip, and looked over at Fionuala. "Good advice, I'm
sure. I'm not certain, though, how much longer there'll be a Byrne
Enterprises. Mr. McCafferty has been helping my mother with all the
family affairs, since my father died, and I believe we may have to
close down the company. It's not doing very well. That's why I'm
thinking that I'll have to do something, and I don't really know what
else to do. I learned quite a bit about antiquities from Da, so I
thought…" Her voice trailed off.

"But I thought your father was very successful," I said. "How could
this be?"

"I don't know," she replied. "I haven't had anything to do with the
business. Perhaps I should have, but Sean, my husband, works there, and
he doesn't like the idea of a working wife. Thinks it's beneath him. He
blames Conail, my brother-in-law. He says Conail hasn't been managing
the peat business at all well, and it was always the part of the
business that helped fund the newer and riskier ventures, the cash cow,
I think Sean calls it."

"And Conail says it's Sean who's making a mess of it," Fionuala
interjected. "Not that I care what he thinks anymore."

"It's a terrible thing to say, I know, sounding glad your sister's
marriage is on the rocks," Eithne said, looking over at Fionuala. "But
perhaps…" She couldn't finish these painful sentences, it seemed. She
was like her mother in that.

"What she's trying to say is that now that Conail is gone, maybe we
can be friends again," Fionuala said. "We were inseparable once, the
three of us, Breeta, Eithne, and I. Just like the triple goddess we
were named after, our nicknames that is, Banba, Fotla, and Eriu. Breeta
never did like being named after a pig goddess, though," she laughed.

"Banba wasn't just a pig goddess," Eithne protested. "She was the
goddess who controlled the line between the underworld and the sky.
Maybe we could go and see Breeta together," she said sadly, looking
over at Fionuala. "Maybe if she could see the two of us, it would help
get us all back together again. She's not speaking to us," she added.
Me neither, I thought.

"Of course we'll go," Fionuala said. "She'll come around. We're
family."

"I think I'd like to have an antiques shop," Eithne said suddenly,
as if now she'd started talking, she wasn't able to stop. "I'm not just
looking into this because of the money, and the business problems. It's
something I often thought of doing, but there hasn't seemed to be an
opportunity. Sean would never approve. Now perhaps I can."

I could hardly fault her for wanting to go into the antiques
business, so for the next half hour or so, I told them exactly what
they would need to do to get started. Eithne, the organized one, got a
notepad out of her purse, and wrote everything down, asking some rather
intelligent questions as we went along.

"Thank you," she said at last. "You've been just grand. Especially
since our family hasn't been very nice to you and to your friend, Mr.
Stewart. We hope he enjoys Rose Cottage, we really do. My father told
us about Mr. Stewart many times, how he pulled him from the water when
Da fell in and might have drowned." Fell in, was it? I thought. That's
not the way I heard it, but a quite understandable editorial change, a
father's tale for his daughters, when I thought about it. And it
sounded as if the lawsuit was off.

"You didn't see any of us at our best, you know," Fionuala said.
"Our Da, he wasn't really the way you saw him, on the video, I mean.
The cancer, it had spread from his lung to his brain. He was actually a
lot of fun. And Mother and my sister and I, well, Mr. McCafferty had
just told us about the financial problems of the estate. We couldn't
believe it. Everything seemed to be fine when my father was alive. We
were in shock, I think, with Da's death and this news. I suppose we
resented the idea of anybody else getting anything from the estate.

"And Sean. He looks like a terrible snob, I know, but he's quite
good-hearted, under it all. It's just that the more worried he gets,
the more standoffish he gets too. I know he seems cold and heartless to
an outsider, but that's only because he's been terribly worried about
Byrne Enterprises and what will happen to all of us, wouldn't you
agree, Eithne?" Eithne apparently did.

"Do you mind if I ask you a question or two? Well, three, actually,"
I asked them. "Make that four." I was on a roll now, and they didn't
seem to mind.

"Ask away." Eithne hiccoughed. She was on drink number three.
"Lovely sherry." She giggled.

"Is the family looking for the treasure or not?"

"No," Eithne said. "Mother wouldn't stand for it. She wants to
remember my father as he was, not the man on that videotape. I still do
what my mother tells me," she added ruefully. "Sean isn't either, I
think I can say with some assurance. He doesn't believe there really is
a treasure. He thinks my father was too far gone, mentally that is,
when he made the videotape, that the clues were just a mean joke from
someone who didn't know what they were doing anymore."

"Neither am I," Fionuala added. "Breeta, I can't speak for, although
I don't think she is. She couldn't anyway, come to think about it.
Mother took Bree's clue out of the safe in Da's office and tore it up,
along with her own. Mother is a very determined woman," Fionuala added.

"Are you telling me there was no robbery?" I asked.

"Of course there wasn't," Fionuala replied. "Mother went off on the
most awful tear. She tore the pages out of Da's diary and burned them,
along with two of his maps. She was afraid there'd be something in the
diary she wouldn't want to know, and the maps might have something on
them that would encourage the rest of us to go after the treasure. We
didn't call the police, or anything, so it wasn't so terrible a thing
to do, was it?"

"No," I replied. As long as you didn't burn one of those rare old
maps, I thought. Although, come to think of it, the diary burning could
be seen in another light. Perhaps Margaret really was trying to protect
herself from painful things her dying husband might have written, or
there were things she wouldn't want others, Garda Minogue and Rob, for
example, to read.

"Anyway," Fionuala went on, "The only one I can think of who might
be still looking is Conail. He's really angry at Sean, and now with
this split with me, he might be doing it to spite the family. He told
me, yelled at me actually, when I told him to get out, that he'd find
the treasure first."

"Someone trashed our room at the Inn," I said. It was a statement,
not a question, but I was still hoping for an explanation. "And tried
to swamp us in a boat."

The sisters exchanged meaningful glances. "That might be Conail,"
Fionuala sighed. "Just his style, I'm afraid. Never one to tread
lightly in any respect. It was what I liked about him once. Sorry to
hear that, though. And he doesn't have a boat, you know."

"But he does know how to handle a boat," Eithne added. "Do you have
another question?"

"How about Padraig Gilhooly?"

"Paddy, looking for the treasure? I don't know," Eithne said,
misunderstanding my question. "Oh, you mean, how does he fit in the
family? Or do we think he'd trash your room and swamp you in a boat?"

I nodded. "All of the above. And where he came from, too."

"I can't imagine he'd do anything like trash your room and swamp you
out on the water. He's actually quite nice, despite his rather sullen
looks. I'm not sure where he came from, though, do you, Nuala?"
Fionuala shook her head.

"Da just kind of adopted Paddy. He did that sort of thing. He liked
giving people a chance. He helped him buy his boat and set him up in
the charter business. Paddy almost lived at Second Chance for a while.
But then he imposed on our hospitality," Eithne giggled. "That's the
way Mother put it. He started going out with Breeta, more than going
out, if you see what I mean, right in the house, too." She blushed.

Fionuala laughed. "Scandalous!" she said.

"Mother was furious, said Paddy wasn't good enough for Breeta, and
threw him out of the house. That made Breeta really angry. She didn't
blame Mother for some reason. We're all a little afraid of her. She
blamed Da and his money, which was silly, but Breeta saw it to be the
root of the problem with Paddy, Mother thinking we were too good for
him. They had a fight. I've never seen Da so angry. I think it was in a
way because Breeta was his favorite, and she really adored Da. I think
it works that way sometimes, themore you love each other, the worse the
fight. Anyway, Breeta left. I heard she's not going with Paddy anymore,
so it was hardly worth it," she said.

"That's what your father meant then about Paddy being considered a
member of the family. He wouldn't have minded if Breeta had married
him?"

"Yes, I think so," Eithne said. "That's all he meant. He never said
anything about our boyfriends. I don't think he liked either Sean or
Conail very much, but he didn't object to our marrying them."

"Your father went on about how the family was always squabbling. How
he wanted the treasure hunt to bring you all together. Is this a
squabbling family?"

"Not always, in fact, not until recently, do you think, Nuala? We
were actually quite close, particularly the three of us sisters. But I
suppose near the end of his life it was. The cancer brought out the
worst in Da, accentuated his least positive features, in a way. He was
difficult to deal with. Sean and Conail started fighting over what was
happening to the business, each blaming the other. Breeta, of course,
walked out. Paddy blamed the family for what happened with him and
Breeta. Nuala and I were always very close, but with our husbands
fighting and everything, it was hard. Also, I'm a little like my
mother, I'm afraid, and so when things get a little rough, I withdraw,
get a little snappy, frankly. It hasn't been too great, lately.

"Was that all the questions?" she said hesitantly.

"Not quite," I replied. "Tell me about Deirdre."

"I don't know what to say. It's terrible, isn't it? She was such a
little mouse, and to have something like that happen to her-I can
hardly think about it."

"Was she with you long?"

"Five years, I'd say, Nuala?"

"About that," Fionuala agreed. "She came after Kitty had her stroke
and had to retire. So, yes, about five years."

"She wasn't the greatest help when she first came," Eithne said. "It
took a while for her to learn the ropes, so to speak. And she was
always spilling stuff and breaking things, usually Mother's little
glass ornaments or the good china. It drove Mother crazy." She giggled
a little, and Fionuala joined in with a hearty laugh. "We shouldn't
laugh, I know, but it was rather funny. I'll remember her that way, but
with fondness. We got used to having her around, breaking china or not,
and we were so grateful she came back to us. She felt like family. I
told her, a couple of days before she died, that she wasn't to worry,
that I'd look after her. I'm the eldest, and I know that I'm going to
have to take charge of things: Mother's way too upset. And I will. I'll
get this antiques business going somehow, and find us a smaller place
to stay, and see about getting Breeta back with us again. She'll have
the baby, of course. Do you think it's Michael's? Or Paddy's? It
doesn't matter. We'll help her look after it. I would have looked after
Deirdre too, and I wanted her to know that."

"Oh, Eithne, aren't you the serious one?" Fionuala sighed. "She's
always been like this," she added, turning to me, "even when we were
little. I'm taking you to the music festival, Eithne, since that dry
stick of a husband of yours probably won't. Maybe Mother will come too.
We'll hear some music, have a few drinks, maybe even dance a little and
find a new man or two for Mother and me. You too, if you want one."

Eithne laughed out loud. "Rich would be good," she said.

"Essential," Fionuala agreed. "I know what I have to do," she added,
twirling a piece of hair around her finger and batting her eyelashes
outrageously. The three of us laughed so hard, the tears were running
down our cheeks.

But then suddenly, Eithne's tears became real ones. "What do you
think happened to us, Nuala?" she sobbed. "We all got along well once,
didn't we? I know Da was sick and wasn't himself, but what happened to
the rest of us? Especially you and Banba and I: The three of us used to
be inseparable."

"You think too much, Eithne," Fionuala said, putting her arm around
her sister's shoulder. "Things happen in families, that's all. We will
get through this, and you're not going to have to deal with this family
business all alone. We're going to stick together in this mess, so
don't you fret about it."

I had to admire their determination. The woman who had frowned when
her mother frowned, nodded when her mother said anything, stood up when
her mother did, had revealed herself to have some backbone in the face
of three murders and what was beginning to sound like insolvency. And
her sister had shown that no matter how shallow she might appear, she
was essentially good-hearted and a no-nonsense kind of person, and she
would do what she had to do as well.

"I'm sure you'll both be fine," I said. "And if you need any more
information at all, please write or call me," I said, handing them each
a business card. "I have e-mail, too."

They both smiled, Eithne wiping away her tears. They had lovely
eyes, and friendly smiles. "Thank you. You may very well hear from us,"
Fionuala said.