Alice

‘Moody. Where the hell have you been all morning?’

Gallagher’s sciatica was playing up badly, hot pain shooting down the back of his left thigh.

‘Sarge?’ Alice looked around to see where the voice was coming from, before spotting the two feet on the floor sticking out from behind Gallagher’s desk. It was like the house had just landed on the wicked witch’s sister, right down to the stripy ankle socks.

She walked around the table until she was standing beside his head.

‘Moody, you have ugly shoes. What are they, Clarks?’

‘They’re €100 Birkenstocks and they’re the comfiest shoes on the planet, I’ll have you know. Just what, exactly, are you doing?’

‘Looking to see if the ceiling needs a lick of paint. What do you think I’m doing? My back is at me again. Here, help me up. Don’t pull me – I’ll use you as a crane.’

Huffing, puffing, cursing, and with far too much bodily contact for either of them to be comfortable, Alice and Gallagher finally made it to the two chairs at his desk.

‘The people of Ireland can sleep safe knowing you two are in charge,’ Doherty called across the office, to a chorus of breathless swear words.

‘Don’t do that again,’ Alice gasped, her hands planted on her knees. ‘I’m a woman, Gallagher – I’m not designed to haul fully grown men off the floor. And here, have you thought about going on a diet? Might take the strain off your back. That, or go for retirement on health grounds. You’re not exactly in great shape for a Guard.’

‘Fuck right off. Jesus, I think I need a morphine shot. Do you reckon we’ve anything in the evidence room?’

‘Nothing they wouldn’t miss.’

‘Nurofen it is, so. Now, tell me where you were.’

‘Ah, now. See, while you were having forty winks on the floor, I was doing some research.’

‘Into what?’

‘Into the earth being round. What do you think? Harry McNamara. I finally understand what he was getting up to all those years in HM Capital.’

‘Dodgy stuff.’

‘Yes, but now I know what they actually mean when they say “dodgy stuff “.’

‘Alice, just a little reminder, because it sounds like you might have forgotten. Harry is the one in a coma. You’re not building a case so the fraud squad can retry him. I hope this is all heading in the direction of you finding a link to Jekyll and Hyde?’

‘Of course it is. I told you, if Carney didn’t have a direct grudge, then he was hired to kill him. And my theory is that it might be linked to what Harry was getting up to over the years.’

‘Ah, yes. You were theorizing at one point about the wife. I’ve been thinking about that. Wouldn’t that be more likely to be a life insurance jobbie? Maybe he was screwing around and she’s a woman scorned. Have you looked into their accounts, by the way?’

‘Patience,’ Alice said, holding up her hand. ‘I haven’t looked at their accounts yet: I’m struggling to get a warrant for that, him being the victim and all. But I did speak to Jimmy Doyle, and he was well aware of the contents of the couple’s accounts during the trial. The McNamaras are still very well off – and probably even more well off than we know. Our lads suspect hidden bank accounts they haven’t been able to find. She works, has a healthy bank balance of her own, and the house is in her name. He doesn’t have a life insurance policy, so she has no real financial motive to do him in.’

‘Weren’t his accounts frozen during the investigation?’

‘No. He had a great salary when he was at HM Capital and they couldn’t find unusual lodgements large enough, or without back-up paperwork, into either of their accounts to warrant freezing them – that’s why they suspect hidden bank accounts.’

Gallagher shifted slightly in his seat and winced, reaching for the pile of drugs on the desk and a bottle of Coke.

‘I’m not a numpty, Alice. I know what McNamara was up to. He was loaning millions to developers all drawn up on the back of brown envelopes, with the payback dependent on property prices climbing ever upwards. That’s the crux of it, isn’t it? That and something to do with moving money around the books when the auditors came looking.’

‘Not bad.’ Alice nodded. ‘But that is, oh, so very surface of the shit Harry was up to. You were right to tell me to look at the personal. You told me to look for problems in their marriage. Well, let me enlighten you.’