Death at Whitewater Church Page 19

  “It’s fine. Really. Thank you for looking into this for us.” Lisa looked up at me brightly, mask back in place. She stood up and started to put on her coat.

  Alan didn’t move.

  “I’ll ask her,” he said firmly.

  I followed them down the stairs to find Liam McLaughlin, the estate agent, chatting to Leah at the reception desk. He nodded to Alan as he passed.

  “Fuck, I can’t take that man,” he said under his breath when the door slammed.

  “Why is that?” I leaned on the counter beside him.

  “Used to play golf with him. Had to stop – I couldn’t take his temper. He nearly brained me with a nine iron one day. Had to be pulled off me.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. He was losing badly in a charity tournament last summer in Buncrana – organized by Kelly, as a matter of fact – in aid of the hospice. I made the mistake of saying something smart while he was trying to take a shot.”

  “That’s not like you.”

  “Scared the bejasus out of me, I can tell you. He wasn’t kidding.”

  I noticed that Leah was looking at me as if she wanted to say something. She had an anxious expression on her face.

  “What’s up?”

  “The man from the Law Society is here. He’s in the waiting room. Shall I send him up to you?”

  “I’ll go in and talk to him myself in a minute. Was there something you wanted, Liam?”

  “Oh aye. Ray Kelly’s in hospital. I told Alison I’d let you know.”

  “God. Is he all right?”

  “Don’t know, to be honest. I know he collapsed a few months back on the golf course. I remember Alison was away at their pub in London and had to come back. But it was never said what was wrong with him, and I don’t like to ask when it’s not offered.” He lowered his tone. “Although between you and me, I think he was in hospital in the States while he was over there.”

  “Oh.”

  “Alison said they were to come in and see you tomorrow?”

  “That’s right.”

  “She wanted to know if there was anything she could take Ray to sign and could you get it ready for her if there was.”

  “Will do.”

  The rest of the afternoon was spent immersed in Law Society financial regulation compliance. Hideous stuff. I was utterly trapped, with no hope of escape to see Mary Devitt. I ran to and fro from the filing cabinet on the orders of the auditor, finding receipts, tracing cheques and lodgements, my mind drifting constantly to what I would say to her when I finally got to speak to her. I left the office at half seven, head pounding, and decided I would drive up to her first thing in the morning.

  I slept badly, got up early, and headed to Lagg Beach for a swim before breakfast. It was a beautiful morning, bright and crisp. As I clambered over the rocks down onto the beach, I thought about my last swim and my encounter with Claire Devitt. Alan Crane was a thoroughly dislikable man, but it didn’t stop me wondering what he had meant by his comment about Claire’s behavior at the wake. I remembered her sudden reappearance in the kitchen in that red dress.

  The swim cleared my head and nearly gave me a heart attack at the same time: the intended effect. It also gave me an appetite for breakfast. A mound of toast and scrambled eggs later, I drove up the narrow lane towards the Devitts’ old farmhouse. I had tried to ring before I left the cottage, but there was no answer.

  In the daylight, with the cold blue sky behind it, the house looked quaint, like something from an old John Hinde postcard. I almost expected to see a scruffy-looking red-haired child with a donkey and a basket of turf in front. I pulled into the yard and parked the Mini next to the porch.

  The door was open. I knocked loudly. There was no response so I stepped inside and called down the hall. Finally, I heard a voice coming from the kitchen. I wasn’t sure whether to follow it or not, but before I could decide, Mary Devitt herself strode up the hall looking surprised to see me. Her hair was swept back behind her ears and tied up with a red scarf. She was wearing blue overalls splattered in paint and had an equally splattered rag in her hand.

  “So you’re the artist?” I said.

  “Sorry?”

  “I noticed your paintings the night of the, er …” I looked again at the canvases of bright color on the wall. “They’re very good.”

  “Oh yes, they’re mine.” She smiled. “Although you’d better not describe me as the artist in front of Claire. She’s the one who went to art college, you know, as she’ll be sure to remind you.”

  “I’m sorry for turning up unannounced like this. I did try to ring.”

  She wiped her hands with the rag. “Oh, I never answer the phone. In my experience it’s rarely good news.”

  “How are you doing?” I asked.

  “I’m fine.” She corrected herself. “I will be fine.”

  “I thought we could continue the conversation we were having the other day, if that’s okay with you?”

  “Oh yes.”

  I waited for her to ask me in, but she didn’t. She seemed to be working something out in her head.

  “I presume you came by car?” she asked.

  “Yes. It’s outside. I parked in the yard.”

  “Maybe we could go for a walk on the shore. I need some shale for something I’m working on.”

  “Sure, of course.”

  “Just give me a minute. I’ll see you outside.”

  I got back into the car and started the engine. A couple of minutes later, Mary joined me, dressed in a man’s sheepskin coat, which looked like a relic from the 1970s. She had a large wicker basket on her arm, which dwarfed her even further.

  “Lagg?” she said.

  “Great.”

  As I drove out of the yard, a black-and-white sheepdog loped across in front of the car, head bowed. I braked suddenly.

  “Jesus!”

  “Sorry about that,” Mary said. “It’s Fred. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s miserable without Danny. I just don’t have enough time for him.”

  I drove on, heart still pounding, out the lane and down the hill towards the turn-off to the beach. Mary sat silently beside me with her basket on her knee gazing out of the window. Suddenly, despite all my planning, I wasn’t sure how to broach things. But I didn’t need to.

  “The sergeant told me that Danny’s accident is being investigated,” she said.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m glad. Andy tells me that you had something to do with that.”

  I wondered when he had passed on that particular piece of information. “Not exactly.”

  “Well, I thank you, Miss O’Keeffe – for whatever it was that you did. As you know, I was very disturbed by the circumstances of what happened to Danny. I’m relieved that it’s being looked into.”

  I said awkwardly, “Garda McFadden mentioned something to me about Danny’s behavior being a bit odd before he died.”

  She sighed and rubbed the condensation from the passenger window with her palm. “Danny was a very different boy from his brother. Conor internalized everything – you could never tell what he was thinking. He was a typical eldest child, I suppose, always had to handle everything himself. But Danny wore his heart on his sleeve. He was kind. You could see that he loved Lisa McCauley with all his heart, from the time they were kids. He never hid it.”

  I hesitated. “That still doesn’t excuse him from hanging around her house at night though.”

  She continued to gaze out of the window. “Have you looked closely at that relationship, Miss O’Keeffe? The relationship between Lisa and her new husband?”

  “Well yes, a little.”

  “It’s not good, is it?”

  I made a noncommittal noise.

  “Alan Crane is a violent man,” she said quietly.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Have I seen him hit her, you mean? No, nothing like that. But I know the signs. Believe me, I know them very well. I spent fifteen year
s trying to cover them up.”

  I looked across at Mary Devitt. She was staring straight ahead of her. Suddenly I understood why this woman had coped so well with her husband’s death. It had been a relief.

  * * *

  The beach was deserted, and the tide was out. It was no less cold than it had been an hour earlier, but it was clear as a summer’s day. Glashedy Island was visible in the distance, looking like a lump of coal that had been flung there by some giant, thousands of years before. I walked along the shore beside Mary Devitt as she peered at the rocks on the ground in front of her, stooping down every so often to pick up something that caught her eye – a shell, the remains of a crab, a bit of seaweed.

  “Do you think Danny was trying to protect Lisa then? From her husband?”

  “I couldn’t say for sure because I don’t know and I didn’t ask. You have to allow your children to make their own mistakes, Miss O’Keeffe. I do know that even if Danny got things wrong sometimes, he would have been trying to do what was right.” She paused. “I also know that he loved Lisa with all his heart, and that husband of hers is a most unpleasant man.”

  I bent down to pick up a particularly striking piece of pink quartz with silver veins running through it. I handed it to her.

  She arched her thin eyebrows. “You have a good eye.”

  “You mentioned something to me about Danny the day of the funeral, something that you said you didn’t want to share with me at that stage. Do you mind me asking what that was?”

  She replied, this time without hesitation. “Danny told me he had killed his brother.”

  I stopped in my tracks. “What? When did he tell you that?”

  “Not long before he died. I didn’t believe him, of course. I thought he meant it in a metaphorical sense – that he had wished him dead. Danny thought like that, like a child. If he wished someone dead, that meant he was responsible for them dying.”

  “Why would he have wished him dead?”

  “Lisa, of course. Conor took Lisa away from Danny, or at least that’s the way he saw it.”

  “Did Conor see it that way, do you think?”

  “No. I think Conor was just trying to take care of Lisa. Her father died young, you see.”

  “Yes, I heard. He was killed, wasn’t he? The night the Sadie was blown up.”

  Mary nodded. “He was the pilot on duty the night of the hijacking. He was manning the pilot station when he was shot. It can have repercussions when that happens to a child: losing a parent in a violent way like that. It can leave them insecure and needy if it’s not handled properly. I think Conor could see Lisa needed caring for.”

  “And he wouldn’t have thought Danny could do that?”

  “Conor is one of those people who feels he has to take responsibility for everyone else.” Mary sighed. “It can be a bit smothering at times, and I know his siblings found him a little controlling, but he means well.”

  I noticed her use of the present tense when she referred to Conor. This was a woman who wasn’t going to be signing any affidavits, I thought. Especially if the request came from Alan Crane.

  She gazed into the distance. “Poor Conor. I think when he was young he tried to protect us from his father’s presence, and then to make up for his absence after he was gone. An impossible task, especially for a child.”

  “Do you think he actually loved Lisa?”

  She smiled. “You’d have to ask him that, Miss O’Keeffe.”

  Chapter 26

  IT WAS AFTER ten o’clock by the time I made it into the office. Leah looked at me curiously, but I didn’t offer an explanation.

  “Where is he?” I whispered. I kept expecting a gray suit to jump out from behind a filing cabinet and ask me to trace a cheque.

  “He’s in the front office going through the books. He says he won’t need you this morning. I can get him whatever he needs.”

  I looked at my watch. “Just as well. I have to be in court in half an hour.”

  She nodded in the direction of the waiting room. “Alison Kelly is waiting for you though.”

  “Damn it, I was supposed to get back to Liam before she came in.”

  “It’s all right, she’s four hours early. Her appointment wasn’t until two.”

  I stuck my head in the door of the waiting room. Alison was sitting, legs elegantly crossed, staring at the wall opposite. When she looked up, her dark eyes appeared deeper set than usual, with heavy shadows underneath.

  She stood up. “I’m sorry. I know I’m not supposed to be here till this afternoon, but I have to get to the hospital.”

  “It’s okay. I have a little time. Come on up.”

  She followed me up the stairs. Even her tread seemed somewhat heavier than it should be.

  “How is Ray?” I asked as I closed the office door behind us.

  “Not great, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?”

  “I wish there was. There’s nothing much anyone can do.” She took a deep breath. “Ray has a brain tumor. He was in remission, but it’s back. We’ve only just found out.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “He was given the all-clear about two years ago. But we’ve lived with the possibility of it returning for a while.”

  “And it’s serious?”

  She nodded. “We had a scare a few months ago, but it’s definitely back this time. With a vengeance. That’s why we went to the States recently. New treatment, last-ditch attempt. But it didn’t work, unfortunately.”

  “I see.” I offered her a seat.

  She sat down heavily as if she’d just run a mile rather than walking upstairs.

  “Ray was exposed to radiation on a building site he worked on in the States when he was about nineteen, long before there was an awareness of the dangers. We have an ongoing civil case over there; another reason we went over. But I can’t see it resolving in time to be of any use to us now. That’s why we’re so desperate to sell this damn church.”

  I sat down opposite her. “Oh?”

  “We need cash. So we can get away for a while in the time that Ray has left.”

  “It’s at that stage?”

  “Yes. He hasn’t long. To be honest, the church was the last thing I thought we’d have to sell. I hoped we’d be able to hold on to it. But none of our other properties are moving.”

  “Everything’s a little slow at the moment,” I acknowledged.

  “Although we’re selling the pubs now, too. All of them. At least we know they’ll sell, even if we have to take a cut on the asking price.”

  “Is that necessary?”

  She sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. I’m just about to go and arrange it. We’ll be gone by the time they’re sold, but Liam’s agreed to handle everything for us. We want to be able to spend the last bit of time we have left together without the stress of having to run a business. Do the traveling we always planned to do.”

  “Of course. I understand.”

  She gave me an odd look. “Do you?”

  “I think so.”

  “I wonder.” Her eyes flashed suddenly. “I’ve always thought that life was too damn short, that you should grab it by the throat and take whatever happiness you can while you can, but that’s taken on a whole new meaning for me now. I’m not sure you can truly understand that, unless you’re faced with losing the person you love.” Her tone was unexpectedly angry.

  I looked down, chose not to respond this time, not to play whatever game she was playing. I suspected she just needed to vent.

  Maybe she realized it herself. For whatever reason, she pulled back. “Anyway, look, one thing’s for certain. All our assets have to be sold, and I need to know that you can process the sales quickly when they come through. If you can promise to do that, and at a good fee, we’ll use you.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “If not, I’ll find someone who can.” The edge was back.

  I started to go through the contr
acts for the sale of the church, and Alison was immediately in focused, capable mode. She took notes on the outstanding documents I required, said she would organize tax-clearance certificates, and took the envelope of declarations I needed her husband and herself to sign and return.

  “There are some documents in there that need to be witnessed,” I said. “Now, anyone can witness them, but if you’d rather I did, I can bring up a set to the hospital and do it. That’s no problem.”

  “I’ll talk to Ray and see what he wants. He may not be there very long. There’s not much they can do for him at the moment, so he’ll be sent home in the next day or two, I expect.”

  “Okay. Whatever you need, I’ll do.”

  Her eyes softened unexpectedly. “You know, it’s so strange, he doesn’t even look that sick. Sometimes you’d never even know.”

  “I wish there was something more I could do.”

  She put the envelope in her bag. “This is all we need. To push this through as quickly as possible.”

  “Just as well that English couple came back on board,” I remarked.

  She nodded. “I hope to hell they stay put this time. Is that everything?”

  “Almost. I’m still waiting on planning documentation from the County Council. They said they’d call us when they had the file copied. And I’ll also need a copy of Paul Doherty’s survey.”

  “You’ll have that this afternoon.” She stood up. “I’m going up to meet him now. He wants to check a couple of things with me.”

  Before she reached the door, she paused and turned. “Please don’t mention Ray’s illness to anyone. We’re keeping it to ourselves for the moment. He doesn’t want people to know.”

  “Of course.”

  Leah was finishing a call when I came down the stairs.

  “I’m going to head over to the County Council offices,” she said, standing up and reaching for her coat and scarf. “That planning file on their sale is ready.”

  “Good. I think we need to get moving on it as quickly as possible.”

  By six o’clock the audit was finished, and I felt obliged to take the man from the Law Society for something to eat before he started the drive back to Dublin. I hoped that didn’t count as bribery. Leah came with us. He left shortly after seven, anxious to make the capital by midnight.