They had been gone for less than three hours, but Claire could feel the change in atmosphere as soon as she got back to the station. It was going to be one of those cases. Murders were far from unusual in Dublin, but most were related to drugs, crime or what the media loved to call ‘gangland activities’. The discovery of an unidentified body, particularly a woman’s body, in a place like Merview was still rare enough to get even the more blasé members of An Garda Síochána talking. And a good thing too, she thought to herself as her mind replayed images from the apartment. It wouldn’t be pleasant to live in a world where that was taken for granted.
So the head swivels she and Flynn encountered when they got back to base were to be expected. Particularly when the others noticed they’d brought a passenger. But she avoided catching anyone’s eye as she ushered the young estate agent through the main office and down the corridor that led to the station’s interview rooms.
Number 3 was free. Not that there was anything to differentiate it from the other two. Collins Street Garda station had been built in the 1950s by an architect who seemed to have studied social housing in Russia. Before perestroika. The interview rooms were small, windowless and painted a grim shade of cream. The smoking ban meant that the air was slightly less stale these days, but traces of nicotine staining remained on the ceiling and the walls. The bare light bulb would have been familiar to viewers of crime dramas, and the much-abused furniture was perfectly in tune with the ambience of the room.
Claire closed the door and watched as Cormac Berry folded himself into one of two metal chairs that stood either side of a scuffed melamine table. The seats themselves were rock hard, designed to keep arses uncomfortable and their owners awake. She lowered herself down into her own chair and waited for the ache in her back to subside. Flynn, who had walked in behind them said nothing, but stood by the door, his eyes fixed on the grimy wall.
Claire took out her notebook and pen. The session would be videotaped, but she was a longhand woman at heart. The electronics were useful. But sometimes it was only when she read back information in her own handwriting, with her own scribbles reminding her of tone or emphasis that its importance became clear. Even the seemingly innocuous stuff could turn out to be useful later on.
Besides, it gave her something to do with her hands.
She uncapped her pen and smiled at Berry.
‘Now. We’ll try and keep this as straightforward as possible.’
The young man blinked again, a tic Claire was finding increasingly irritating, and tugged at his jacket.
‘Do I, like, need a lawyer?’
Oh, here we go. The battle hymn of a generation reared on US cop shows. God be with the days when people answered questions first and worried about the ramifications afterwards. But Claire kept her tone neutral.
‘You can, of course, call your solicitor if you want, Mr Berry. But really at this stage we just need you to tell us exactly what happened. We’re just taking an initial statement.’
‘Yeah, okay. Cool.’
He paused again and looked down at his fingernails. They were too long and too clean, Claire decided. A sure sign of a fella who didn’t break his back at the day job. Okay, working in an estate agency was hardly equivalent to mining coal, but somehow she reckoned an ink stain or something would have made him seem a little more effective. The silence lengthened and she decided to start with a few gentle questions.
‘You could begin by telling me your full name? And occupation?’
He looked up at her gratefully as if he hadn’t expected things to be that simple.
‘Yeah, sure! It’s, ehm, Cormac Berry? And I work for O’Mahony Thorpe, they’re, like, based in Rathmines?’
O’Mahony Thorpe. Claire wrote the name on a blank notebook page. It was a familiar one, and not just because she’d seen it written outside the Merview complex. It had taken herself and Matt almost two years to buy a house – at the top of the market, naturally – and in that time she’d dealt with every legitimate estate agency in the city, as well as some shysters armed with nothing more than a clipboard and a mallet.
O’Mahony Thorpe had been one of the biggest firms in Dublin at the time, dealing mostly in detached homes in the rock star/stockbroker belt on Dublin’s south coast. She also had a vague recollection of seeing O’Mahony himself – or maybe it was Thorpe? – bursting out of a pinstripe suit on one of those property programmes that used to jam the airwaves. Advising people on second homes in the sun, and how to release equity on your city pad to add an extra swimming pool.
But that had been then. A few short years and a lifetime ago. It seemed like no one could avoid a bit of slumming these days. Even the ones in the pinstripe suits.
Berry was still talking.
‘So, we’re, like, the main letting agency for Merview. And we got a call from the owner to say the rent on 123 hadn’t been paid this month?’
‘Okay.’
Claire held up her hand.
‘Let’s just go back a bit, please. Tell me exactly who owns the apartment and what your company does?’
She reddened slightly and felt rather than saw a slight grin on Flynn’s impassive face. That bloody inflection was contagious.
‘What you do.’ She growled, lowering the final word as much as possible.
‘Yeah, sure.’ The young man continued in a stronger voice, clearly happier to be on home territory. ‘We, like, place ads, find tenants, check references, stuff like that?’
‘Right.’
Claire made another note.
‘So, you deal with the tenants on behalf of the landlords? And you found the tenant for this property?’
‘Yeah. About, like, three months ago?’
‘Okay.’
Finally it seemed they were getting somewhere.
‘The guy who owns this place, he, like, used to live there? But he got married and bought a house with his wife. He wanted to sell the apartment but he couldn’t get, like, anything decent for it. So he decided to rent it. He’s moved to, like, Cork so he needed an agent. So he came to us.’
‘And that’s usually how these things go?’
‘Yeah. We put the ads online and stuff.’
‘And what happened then?’
‘Well. This guy was, like, kinda desperate …’ Berry’s voice trailed off. He swallowed, and stared at his hands, which were by now resting on the table. But his choice of words had been unusual.
‘Desperate?’
‘Well, yeah.’ Berry refocused on her. ‘I was talking to him a few times, he had, like, a new mortgage and stuff and he really needed the funds, you know? Really needed to get the place let. But there’s, like, tonnes of places available in Merview and the rent he was looking for was pretty high. I mean he had it set high because he needed the money, but I, like, told him he wasn’t going to get, like, a grand a month for it. No way. I mean it was madness, there are units out there for, like, six-hundred and fifty …’
‘Is that so?’
Claire jumped, having almost forgotten Flynn was there.
‘Six-hundred and fifty!’ The younger guard gave a small whistle, and jerked his head. ‘Jaysus, that’s some drop.’
‘I know!’
It was the closest Berry had come to being animated. Claire shot her colleague a shut-the-fuck-up look, and nodded at the agent to continue.
‘Okay, so this dude wanted a grand, and I told him that there were too many others on the market, but he was totally sold on getting his money, you know? And then we got this offer, and this guy said he’d take it and …’
‘Hold on a second, please. You found a tenant for the apartment?’
‘Yeah.’
A flush had broken out under Berry’s collar and Claire watched in fascination as it climbed upwards, flooding his cheekbones.
‘We found him a tenant and he moved in two months ago. It was fine until he didn’t, like, pay his rent and …’
‘If I could just bring you back again, please, Mr Berry?’ Claire stared at the young man, who was now bright red and visibly sweating.
‘Can I get you a drink of water or something?’
‘Yeah. Please.’
She motioned to Flynn, who left the room, returning seconds later with an overflowing paper cup. Berry downed half of it in one gulp, but remained silent.
‘And can you give us the tenant’s name?’
Berry stared into the cup. ‘Yeah. Sure. It was … Spanish, or something? Like Solana? I have it written down back at the office …’
Claire scratched the name, or an approximation, in the notebook, but said nothing. Sometimes it was better to leave a gap that could be filled in. After a moment Berry continued.
‘Yeah, so he moved in, we checked references, everything was grand and then he didn’t pay his second month’s rent, so the landlord phoned me this morning and he said there was no money in the account and that your man wasn’t answering his phone and that he was in Cork and could I call round to see what was going on, so I did and there was no answer, and I had a key and it’s like completely legal so I, like, phoned and texted and stuff and there was no answer and I had a key and it’s fine to do that so I went in the door, I opened the door and …’
The young man’s flow of speech halted dramatically and he stared at Claire, tears pricking in the corner of his eyes.
‘I want to see a lawyer. Please.’
‘Yeah, sure. Okay.’
She closed her notebook.
‘If you have someone you want to call, you can do so right away.’
‘Detective Boyle?’
‘That’s me.’
Claire was dying to go to the loo, but she tried not to let her discomfort show as she leaned over the counter that separated the station from the public office. She and Flynn had grabbed a quick coffee while Cormac Berry was making his phone call, and then she’d been sidetracked listening to the messages that had built up on her landline. She’d figured she’d still have a few minutes to freshen up before his lawyer got there. But it looked like Berry had used the BatPhone.
The young woman proffered a slim tanned manicured hand.
‘Ella O’Mahony. I’m a legal representative for O’Mahony Thorpe. I believe you are holding one of our employees here?’
‘Well I wouldn’t say holding …’
It looked like the inflectious disease had spread to the legal profession too, but there the similarities between Berry and his lawyer ended. Although a small woman, barely five foot two, Claire reckoned, Ella O’Mahony seemed to have sucked in every drop of the self-confidence that had drained from Berry during the aborted interview. The face was familiar, too; Claire had a vague memory of reading about her in one of the Sundays. The eldest daughter of agency boss Tom O’Mahony, she’d studied law and then come back to work for Daddy’s firm, presumably with a view to taking over some day. Claire shifted from foot to foot and pointed across the counter at a door marked ‘No Entry’.
‘I’ll come around and get you.’
As she guided the woman through the office there were more head swivels, but this time they were out of admiration. And Claire could understand why. Although her colleagues would never have suspected it – and given her work wardrobe, no one would have blamed them – Claire liked designer clothes. She rarely bought them, the demands of her job meant that black suits and flat shoes were easier to match together on a dark and rushed morning. But that didn’t mean she didn’t like looking at them. She could recognise a Chanel suit when she saw one. Ella O’Mahony was wearing the real thing.
Taking a swift look around the office she caught one of the younger uniforms in the middle of an appreciative eyebrow raise and indulged herself in a look that channelled her old head nun. The man flushed brick-red and buried himself in his paperwork again. Satisfied, Claire quickened her pace and drew level with the solicitor before showing her into the interview room. Cormac Berry stood up the minute she entered, but, after a quick glance from his lawyer, said nothing. Claire paused, and then, channelling her favourite primary teacher this time, gave a bright smile.
‘Right! I’ll just leave you two alone, then. I’ll come back for a chat in a few minutes, yeah?’
She turned and left the room. Dragged the door shut behind her, but slowly, and was just able to catch Berry’s sob.
‘I didn’t—’
But Claire didn’t hear the end of the sentence.
PRIVATE MESSAGE
MyBabba – LondonMum
Hey there got your PM. Was on hols in Spain. Babba loved it. Sorry, thought I mentioned it before we left! Hope you well. Had an amazing time, R loved the flight, no bother at all. Will post details on main forum x