Death at Whitewater Church Page 13

  “Tom?”

  Molloy looked up.

  “Was there anything strange about his death?” I asked. “Are we sure it was an accident?”

  Molloy was unfazed. “Impossible to tell. He crashed into a ditch. We can’t be a hundred percent sure, but there was no other car involved as far as we could see. There were no skid marks, other than his own.”

  “His body was released very quickly.”

  “Yes. The postmortem didn’t take long. Cause of death was very straightforward. Head injury caused by the impact of the crash.”

  I said nothing.

  Molloy frowned. “Are you implying that something was missed?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “He died in hospital, remember?”

  “I know, I know.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “So?”

  I sighed. “It’s just it’s a bit of a coincidence, don’t you think? The bones in the church turn out not to be Conor Devitt despite everybody’s expectations to the contrary, and within forty-eight hours his brother is dead, killed in a car accident.”

  “Yes, I do. But I also think that we can’t rule out suicide as a possibility.”

  I didn’t like to think about that.

  “How about the blood alcohol tests?”

  “There was no alcohol in his system when he died. He was sober when he crashed.”

  Chapter 17

  NOW I WAS hungry. I had just enough time to grab a sandwich and take it back to my desk. I was standing at the bar in the Oak waiting impatiently for Eddie to finish his spat with the espresso machine when I heard someone call my name. I turned to see Alison Kelly sitting by the fire with her son Trevor, the remains of sandwiches and soup on the table in front of them.

  “I was about to call your husband,” I said.

  “We’ve saved you a phone call, then. We’ve just been dropping some food up to the wake – stuff from the restaurant.”

  “I’m sure that’ll be appreciated.”

  “Well, you do what you can, don’t you? Ray and I felt bad for them. We couldn’t help feeling we were part of it in some way, with that whole business with the church.”

  “It’s hardly your fault.”

  “I know, but we felt one of us should go last night, to show our sympathy. Ray would have been there, too, but he’s a bit under the weather. I didn’t know too many people there though, I was surprised. Apart from you, of course.”

  “And Lisa – you knew Lisa?”

  “Oh yeah,” she said dismissively. “I know Lisa from the bank in Buncrana. But I thought I might know some people from years back, from when I used to live there.”

  “And you didn’t?”

  “No.” She looked wistful. “Though I suppose I was just a child then. Funny how you can get caught up with these sentimental notions about a place. I was so homesick for Whitewater when we went back to the States that I built it up into some kind of Utopia in my mind. Stupid really, the way you can allow yourself to be swept away by something, when it’s the here and now that’s important.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “It was one of the reasons we bought the church – stupid sentimentality.” She smiled ruefully. “Or rather, it’s one of the reasons I persuaded Ray to buy the church.” She gestured at the empty seat next to her. “Sit down, join us.”

  “Thanks, but …”

  “Go up and order us a couple of coffees, would you, Trevor?”

  “No, really I can’t, I’m afraid,” I told them. “I have to head back to the office.”

  Alison looked disappointed. “Okay, if you’re sure. Just one then, Trevor, could you?”

  Her son nodded amicably and sauntered up to the bar.

  “What did you want to talk to Ray about?” Alison asked. “I can give him a message.”

  “Well, it was both of you really. It’s the church. Liam tells me the buyers are going ahead with it.”

  Her face brightened. “Yes, so I believe.”

  There was a hoot of laughter from the bar. I looked up to see Eddie and Trevor bent double over the bar with tears running down their faces.

  Alison smiled. “Pair of idiots. I’m not sure which one of them is a worse influence.”

  Her son strode over, handed her a cup of black coffee, and returned to the bar. I decided to keep my opinion to myself on this occasion.

  “Not much I can say though; I had some wild moments myself when I was younger,” she said as she produced some diet sweeteners from her bag and dropped two into her cup. “I’ve had my fun.”

  “Anyway,” I said, “I’ve checked with the guards and they’ve finished what they had to do up there, so we can get Paul Doherty back in and start the ball rolling again as soon as possible, if you want.”

  “Great. The sooner we get that place off our hands, the better I’ll like it, I can tell you.”

  My name was called, and I turned to see Eddie waving a small brown package and takeaway cup at me and putting it on the counter.

  “My food’s ready,” I said. “I’ll give you a shout after I talk to Paul.”

  I didn’t get a chance to touch my sandwich. Leah was on the phone as I got back in the door of the office.

  “Hold on, she’s here,” she said, putting the call on hold. “Ben,” she told me. “It’s your mother.”

  I could feel my limbs freeze.

  “Ben?” Leah gave me a curious look.

  “Sorry. Put her through. I’ll take it upstairs.”

  My legs felt like lead as I climbed the stairs. I sat at my desk and pressed the incoming call button.

  “Sarah?”

  “Ben, Mum.”

  “Sorry. I keep forgetting. I know you don’t use your first name anymore.” There was a shake in her voice. I had heard that shake before. I felt a sudden chill.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s your dad.”

  “Is he sick? What’s happened?”

  “He’s not very well. I’m not saying he’s in any danger or anything, but he’s had a bad fall and he’s in the hospital. He’s very down.”

  “What do you mean by ‘bad fall’?”

  “He was on the roof.”

  “What was he doing on the roof, for God’s sake?”

  “He was cleaning out the gutters.”

  “Ah, Mum, surely you can get someone in to do that kind of thing?”

  “He likes to keep busy,” she said quietly. “Helps to keep his mind off things. He’d love to see you.”

  “Has he said that?”

  “No, but I know your father. Would you think about it?”

  “I’m very busy at work at the moment, Mum.”

  “It’s been a long time, Sarah. A long time.”

  “I know, Mum.”

  “Two years. You used to come more often.”

  I hesitated. “I think it’s better this way, don’t you? Less painful all round. For everyone.”

  “No, I don’t. Anyway, he’s coming home on Friday if you’d like to come for the weekend, maybe? Or even just the night. You wouldn’t need to go to the hospital.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  * * *

  I hung up, stared at the phone for a second, and immediately dialed again. Nature hates a vacuum. I needed to fill my mind with work.

  Paul groaned when he heard my voice. “This is the phone call I’ve been dreading, isn’t it?”

  “Very possibly.”

  “I met Liam in the square. He told me the church buyers are back on board.” His tone was resigned.

  “Then yes, it is the phone call you were dreading. How soon can you get up there?”

  “Saturday morning?”

  “Great.”

  “And it’ll be first thing. There’s no way I’m going back up there close to dark. I’m beginning to feel that the place is cursed. I’ve had nothing but bad luck since I was up there.”

  “You sound like Kelly. Any news on your break-in?”

&n
bsp; “What do you think?”

  I was about to hang up when I had an idea.

  “Paul? This might sound a bit odd, but would you have any objection to me coming with you on Saturday?”

  I could hear the smile in his voice.

  “Absolutely none. You’re a complete bloody weirdo, but none.”

  “That’s settled then. I’ll meet you up there about nine?”

  “You’re on.”

  Leah appeared in the doorway with something in her hand.

  “You left your sandwich downstairs. Do you want it?”

  “No thanks, Leah. I’m not hungry anymore. You can throw it out.”

  “You must be joking. In this weather? There’s some pretty hungry-looking robins out the back that’ll be glad of it.”

  “Grand.”

  She didn’t move from her position in the doorway.

  “Anything else?” I asked.

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, grand. My dad had a fall, so he’s in hospital. He’s all right though.”

  She said carefully, “You don’t get to see them very often, do you? Your family.”

  “No.”

  “Suppose it’s not easy, living this far away.”

  “No.”

  “Donegal’s kind of a long way from anywhere.”

  “Yes.” I for Interrogator sprang to mind.

  Thankfully, the front door opened, and I was rescued when Leah bounded downstairs. Phyllis’ voice sounded up the stairs and my muscles relaxed. I couldn’t help but smile when I saw her. Today she was in highly patterned orange, from top to toe. She looked more African queen than Donegal bookseller.

  “Great outfit, Phyllis.”

  She beamed. “Thanks. Kampala, about ten years ago. I thought it might cheer things up a bit. Everything is so bleak at the moment.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “Actually, that’s why I’m here. We were thinking of getting a wreath for the funeral tomorrow, from the drama group. What do you think?”

  “Good idea. Count me in.”

  Phyllis leaned her large bosom on the reception desk and showed no sign of leaving. It didn’t escape me that she could have phoned about the wreath. I took the hint.

  “Tea, Phyllis?”

  “Lovely. It would be nice to take the weight off the old bones,” she said.

  “Leah?” I asked. She nodded, handing me over her empty mug with a grin. “Yes, please.”

  I went into the little kitchen at the back of the waiting room and Phyllis trailed in behind me.

  “So what do you think of this whole business?” she said.

  “You mean Danny Devitt?”

  “The whole lot, the bones in the church last week and now Danny this week.”

  “Do you think the two are connected?” I asked.

  “Don’t you?” She looked at me as if trying to read my face.

  “I’m not sure,” I said slowly, filling mugs with tea and rooting in the cupboard for some biscuits. I knew it wasn’t yet public knowledge that Danny’s DNA had been found in the crypt. Molloy had told me that they had decided not to release that information until after the funeral, out of consideration for the family. “What makes you think so?”

  “Well.” She lowered her voice. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

  “Go on.” I handed her a mug.

  “Do you remember that weekend after the body was found, before we knew it wasn’t Conor, I said I had seen Danny in the town and he was very drunk?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, he was saying some very queer things.”

  “What kind of queer things?”

  Before Phyllis had a chance to reply, I heard the front door open, followed by voices.

  “Let’s go into the front room,” I said.

  I put Leah’s tea on her desk and left her to deal with making an appointment for the young couple at reception while Phyllis and I went into the front office, Phyllis taking the chair while I perched on the desk. Despite the radiator, the room was not warm, and judging from the noise outside, the wind was gathering force again.

  “Jesus, it’s freezing in here.” Never one to suffer in silence, Phyllis gripped her mug with both hands.

  “Sorry, it needs insulation, this room. Where was it you were talking to Danny Devitt?”

  “On the street. After I talked to you.”

  I looked at her suspiciously. “I thought when I met you, you said you had seen Danny going into the Oak?”

  A stubborn look flickered across her face for a second and was gone. “Okay, okay. I went in after him. I wanted to see if he was all right. I was worried about him. I used Claire as an excuse. Asked him how she was.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He was kind of rambling. He kept talking about the cold, the cold ground. That it would all be grand now, now everyone would know, that it would all be out in the open.”

  “Everyone would know what?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. He was very drunk, mind, he was probably raving. I thought maybe he was talking about Conor’s body in the cold crypt. At that stage we still thought it was Conor.”

  She blew on her tea. Her brow was furrowed, and she looked as if she was trying to make her mind up about something.

  “Was there something else?” I asked.

  She bit her bottom lip. “It’s just that it reminded me of a conversation I overheard at Christmas. That’s what bothered me.”

  “Christmas?”

  “Christmas Eve just gone. You’ll think I’m a right busybody, eavesdropping on other people’s conversations. But it was in the pub. I was up at the bar; the place was packed – you couldn’t help hearing what other people were saying.”

  “Of course you couldn’t.”

  She leaned forward. “I overheard Lisa telling Danny that she was getting married to Alan Crane. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for her to tell him, what with Conor and everything, and Danny did seem really upset. He didn’t approve of her choice of husband.”

  “Not surprising, I suppose. Apart from her relationship with Conor, Leah said Danny had feelings for Lisa himself.” I took a gulp of my tea. Phyllis was right. It was the only thing keeping the chill out.

  She nodded. “I think everyone knew that. No, it was what he said after that was so strange. I didn’t think much of it at the time – I just thought it was Danny being his usual odd self. But then last week he said exactly the same thing.”

  “Go on.”

  “He went off on a kind of rant about the cold ground. Just the same as he did last week. He wasn’t making any sense. Poor Lisa just stood there, didn’t know what to do. I felt so sorry for her. I’m sure she was only trying to do the right thing, telling Danny that she was getting married. And she certainly had no reason to feel guilty, not after six and a half years. When he’d finished his rant, he just left. Full pint on the bar, walked out of the pub. Left her standing there.”

  “And that was – what? Six weeks before the bones were found?”

  “At least. It was Christmas Eve.” Phyllis sighed. “Oh, maybe you’ll say I’m imagining all kinds of things because of what’s happened, but he had a sort of haunted look about him, if you know what I mean.”

  I pictured Danny’s face at the office the last time I had seen him. I knew exactly what she meant.

  She put her mug on the desk. “You don’t think he could have done something bad, do you? Killed someone? And then driven himself into that ditch on purpose – out of guilt?”

  “I don’t know, Phyllis. I just have no idea.”

  The old wooden windowframes rattled suddenly, and we both jumped. The chill in the room made the conversation we were having feel even more bleak.

  Phyllis straightened herself, cleared her throat, and made a valiant attempt to change the subject.

  “So, did you get around to having a look at those plays?”

  Chapter 18

  MICK BO
URKE WAS sitting in the waiting room when I arrived in the next morning.

  “I thought he was coming in this afternoon after the funeral,” I whispered.

  “He asked if you’d mind seeing him now instead,” Leah explained. “You don’t have anything else on. I cleared your diary for the funeral.”

  I checked my watch. “Okay, give me two minutes to get myself organized and then send him up.”

  Bourke was formally dressed for the funeral in black suit and tie, which did nothing to camouflage his ruddy, outdoorsy complexion. He took the seat I offered him and immediately started to deliver what sounded like a prepared speech, concentrating hard on the desk in front of him as he did so.

  “I’m sorry for coming early. When I thought on it again, I realized I wouldn’t be in the humor for doing this after the funeral. I thought I’d be better doing it when I’d made up my mind to.”

  I wasn’t sure if he meant that he would be drinking after the funeral or that the funeral would weaken his resolve.

  “What is it that you have decided to do, Mr. Bourke?”

  He sat up in his seat. “I’ve decided to try and get my money back.”

  “What money would that be?”

  He looked me in the eye for the first time. “Lisa said she was going to come and see you yesterday.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Bourke, I don’t follow. You’ll have to explain things to me. Start at the beginning.”

  He took a deep breath. “It’s Conor Devitt, you see.”

  “Yes?”

  “Conor was taking money from me for a long time. I didn’t know it until after he disappeared, but he was. A lot of money.”

  “I see. How do you know?”

  “Well, he was working for me for years. Since he was a schoolboy. I took him on after his father died. And the wife, well, she always did the books, you see.”

  “Your wife?”

  “Aye. Until her sight got bad there a few years back. She had to have a cataract removed y’see. Wild nasty things, cataracts. Three months she was, on a waiting list to get them removed in Letterkenny. Bloody health service.”

  My patience was wearing a little thin.

  “Conor, Mr. Bourke?”

  “Oh, aye. Well, when she couldn’t do the books no more, I got Eithne to do them.”

  “Eithne?”