Alice

‘See, the thing is, unless something fundamentally changes at a later date, this thing hasn’t a snowball’s chance of going to trial. Harry McNamara’s death is incidental in that regard.’

Alice tried not to look sucker punched as the Director of Public Prosecutions laid out the facts as he saw them. He was a pompous man, prim and prudish, his shirt buttoned tight to his neck. He didn’t like her, Alice could tell. Her or all women, she wasn’t sure. But she’d a notion that if she was about six stone lighter, had a peroxide job and wore blouses that revealed her bra colour, he’d be a little bit more indulgent, whatever conservative persona he tried to put across. It was always the quiet ones.

Beside her, Gallagher bounced his knee up and down, impatient for the briefing to finish. The Carney episode was done. He wanted the best detective in the station on other cases. Tight resources meant they’d given it all the time it was going to get.

‘JP Carney has been officially diagnosed as temporarily insane during the commission of a crime. His previous record of clinical depression – which you were unaware of – has contributed to the veracity of that conclusion. You have failed to establish any definitive link between the perpetrator and the victim that could have raised concerns. The suspect handed himself in, confessed to the crime and participated in all subsequent examinations, interviews and treatment. It’s an open-and-shut case for the judge. I know it’s quick but with a case this high profile, it was always going to move swiftly.’

Seeing the look of abject misery on Alice’s face, the director unfolded his arms and spread his hands on the meeting table, trying to be conciliatory.

‘I’m sorry if this comes as a disappointment to you, DS Moody. All I can tell you is that my office is inundated with open prosecution files and honestly, one that is wrapping itself up like this is no great loss to us. Harry McNamara was the victim of a terrible crime but ultimately, it would seem Carney had no motive for his murder and there was no premeditation. It was just damn bad luck that it was McNamara’s house Carney happened upon. If any evidence to the contrary comes to light, then we can re-examine things. But surely, with all of the work you have on, you’re happy to see this finalized? There’s no need to get so upset, young lady.’

Alice turned to Gallagher, then back to the DPP, her face incredulous.

Her mouth began to form the word.

‘F—’

‘Thank you, DS Moody, and thank you, Director,’ Gallagher interjected. ‘It was good of you to tell us in person.’

The man nodded and slapped his folder shut.

‘Fucking twat.’ The words exploded out of Alice’s mouth when he was gone. ‘Sometimes I wonder what bloody century I’m in. So that’s it. Carney’s going to walk.’

‘He’s not walking anywhere. He’s going to be in the Central Mental Hospital for the foreseeable.’

‘It’s as good as walking. Aren’t you a little suspicious that the DPP’s office aren’t pursuing this any further because Harry ran rings around the fraud squad and got away with that one? Doesn’t it seem like they’re in a bit of a rush to close up? It’s only been a month. I know this is a high-profile case but, seriously, to close the file on Carney already just to look like you’ve got it solved? That stinks.’

‘Jesus, Alice. Take off the tinfoil hat. Can’t you let it go?’

‘No, I bloody well can’t! You’ve been to that hospital with me, Sarge. It’s not exactly hard labour. And if he keeps being the model patient, he’ll be released well before anything he’d have got for a prison term.’

Gallagher sighed. Alice had such a high solve rate that this case was demoralizing her far more than it would anybody else. He really didn’t want it to affect other investigations he planned to send her way.

‘Alice, you’ve exhausted every avenue on this, haven’t you? You said so yourself. There doesn’t seem to be any sphere in which the two could have met – am I right? And Carney has nothing on his record. Nobody in his family worked with McNamara or anything like that?’

She shook her head, despondent.

‘Carney is the ultimate outsider,’ she said. ‘Doherty can’t find any family bar the half-sisters in England that he didn’t even know about. With the father dead and the mother not speaking to our English counterparts, I don’t even know if Carney has shagging grandparents. He lives alone and there’s no girlfriend or a best friend. His neighbours say there used to be a young one on the scene but she’s long gone and they don’t know him at all. It’s apartments – everybody keeps to themselves. We had one or two of his old mates ring in just so they could be involved, and all they wanted to do was tell us he was a loner and a weirdo. But again, it takes time. People might be nervous about getting in touch. Not wanting to get involved. Eventually, they’ll talk. We might get somebody who knew Carney properly coming forward.’

‘What about through his work?’ Gallagher was trying to be helpful, but even he felt he was reaching, and he hadn’t spent the hours on this that Alice had. ‘He was in office supplies, wasn’t he? Could he have met McNamara through that?’

Alice scoffed.

‘Harry McNamara didn’t deal with that end of things. The company Carney worked for serviced virtually every business in Dublin city centre and quite possibly dealt with HM Capital, but it folded in 2010. The owner opened a new, similar but smaller venture, and Carney went back to work with him until that closed too. There are no files from before the first bankruptcy. And even if Carney went to HM Capital, say he did just bump into McNamara there, that doesn’t give him a reason to kill him. He’d have to have had an ongoing interaction with him.’

‘His other jobs?’

‘Most of the places Carney worked in are either defunct or won’t talk to the cops. I don’t know – he could have met McNamara in a pub one night or fixed his car for him … but how am I supposed to find out if he did? He’s either an unlikely assassin or a really bloody good one.’

‘You seem to have looked under every rock, Alice. The wife has nothing more?’

‘Sweet FA. She claimed she was telling me everything, but since the funeral she’s clammed up. Most of Harry’s background I got from that financial expert, anyway – the aunt of that girl who claimed he’d raped her. Nina Carter. I sense … ah, I don’t know if my intuition is even working right any more.’

‘No, tell me,’ Gallagher said. He was being uncharacteristically kind, Alice thought. Indulgent rather than his usual smart-arse, dismissive self. She didn’t like it. She preferred it when he was ribbing her.

‘I could swear the wife’s holding something back. I don’t know if it’s even relevant, but Harry was a more of a bastard than she’d have us believe.’

‘So, what? She’s protecting his honour, now he’s dead?’

‘I dunno. She definitely wants to know what Carney is up to. I believe that. So maybe she’s decided that whatever she’s holding back has nothing to do with the case.’

‘That depression stuff – how come we didn’t know Carney had been treated for it?’

‘He didn’t tell us. His solicitor and the doctors at the hospital have access to his medical file. We weren’t aware of it until they presented the DPP with their case files. In record time. How can I be expected to match that pace with our lack of resources? You know legal aid threw themselves into this one. Working-class victim versus corrupt banker.’

‘When did Carney have the depression?’

‘In 2010, apparently. Handy, right? Two years later he’s getting away with murder on the basis of temporary insanity with a history of mental illness.’

Gallagher stood up. He placed his hand awkwardly on Alice’s shoulder.

‘It looks like that’s it then, DS Moody. Time to let it go.’

‘Do you know what bothers me the most, Sarge?’

‘What?’

‘It’s him not being found guilty of anything. He’s getting the best of both worlds – admitting to killing McNamara but not being found guilty of it in a court of law. I don’t know why he went after him and then handed himself in, but I do know there’s a reason for it.

‘It drives me mad that we’ll never know what his motive was.’