A uniformed officer named Coleman, from Dun Laoghaire Garda Station, drove Jimmy the barman home from the pier. Coleman was a big, pink-faced man in his fifties, and his skin seemed to give off a salty smell like boiled ham.
During the drive, Jimmy felt sicker than he would have expected. Hardened guy like him, bartending for a decade, seeing all kinds of shit, he thought he’d be able to handle seeing a dead body.
Turned out, he wasn’t.
Coleman seemed to sense that, when he took Jimmy’s statement at the East Pier. Hence the ride home.
Jimmy wanted to roll down the window, but it wasn’t his car, so he contented himself with holding his breath, and trying to forget what he’d seen.
Working at the pub had turned Jimmy off alcohol. On mornings, while his customers nursed hangovers, Jimmy liked to walk the pier.
This morning, he’d gone to the side of the East Pier, where he could look out over the sea, towards the Martello Tower to the south. The sea had been calm, much calmer than the previous day. He’d stepped onto the rocks at the water’s edge. Once he found his balance, he took a minute to meditate. It was nothing fancy, just closing his eyes, and taking a few slow breaths. A simple routine, but it calmed him.
When he opened his eyes, he caught sight of a patch of seaweed clinging to the rocks near his feet. After a moment, he realised it wasn’t seaweed.
It was hair.
A woman’s body floated in the water, face down.
Embarrassingly enough, Jimmy had gone to bits after that. Hadn’t even been able to call an ambulance. Another passer-by did that – an old man who recognised the dead woman as Kate Long.
Paramedics and cops were soon swarming the area, and Jimmy was ushered to an ambulance where he recovered from the shock.
Kate used to come into the pub once in a while. She was a stunner. Nice lady too. Did a bit of acting. Once she’d been featured in the local newspaper.
Jimmy stared out the window of Coleman’s car, watching the streets pass by, but not really seeing anything.
The shock, which had prevented him speaking much, was beginning to wear off. But the image of Kate Long, floating face down, was burnt into his retinas.
Jimmy rented a room in a house with four other guys, over on De Vesci Terrace. The car passed Melanie and Tom Flynn’s place and eased to a stop outside Jimmy’s door. His housemates would be at work, and Jimmy had a day off today, so he would be alone.
“You want to come in for a cup of tea?”
“No, I better be going,” Coleman said.
“Okay, yeah.”
Jimmy didn’t move at once.
Coleman kept looking at him. After a moment, he unfastened his seat belt. “Ah, sure, why not?”
*
After getting up late, Robert had tea and toast, with lots of butter and lots of marmalade. Then it was time for Baxter’s walk. He clipped Baxter’s leash onto his collar, then searched for his jacket while the dog waited impatiently.
Robert called up the stairs, “Louise? Where’s my green jacket?”
“What green jacket?”
From her tone, Robert concluded that her mood hadn’t improved so far today.
“The one with the yellow stripes.”
“Did you look on the coat rack?”
“Of course, I did. And it’s not in the wardrobe either.”
“I don’t know what to tell you then. Are elves stealing your clothes?”
Robert scowled. Perhaps he really was going senile. The jacket should have been right there on the rack, but there was no sign of the damn thing. Baxter began to whine.
“Alright, alright,” Robert said, picking out another jacket. He led the dog outside.
They walked down the road towards the sea, going onto Queen’s Road. It was a slight deviation from their familiar route, and Baxter resisted, trying to pull Robert towards the library.
“In a minute, boy.”
Louise said that Kate had been found dead in the water next to the East Pier. As they approached, Robert saw that the pier was open but an area to the side was blocked off by tape.
“What a shame,” Robert said to himself. He shook his head sadly. “She never did amount to anything.”
He stood looking at the scene for a minute before letting Baxter pull him back to the usual route. On Crofton Road, they passed Tess and Gareth’s house and continued on to De Vesci Terrace, a lovely road with a row of elegant houses. Of course, a lot of them were subdivided into less than grand apartments, and some of the houses needed a bit of work done.
As they approached Melanie and Tom’s house, which was one that needed a lot of work, Robert let Baxter off the leash.
“Go on, boy. Do your business.”
Baxter darted through Melanie’s gate. Robert kept his distance. That was best so that he could claim plausible deniability if Melanie or Tom happened to be home. After half a minute, he moved a little closer to make sure Baxter was doing the job.
“Good boy. Come on now.”
Baxter came tearing out of the garden, like a killer fleeing a crime scene.
Robert put the leash on him, and they continued walking, down the terrace past Jimmy the barman’s place. When Robert glanced at the house, he saw Jimmy and a Garda standing inside the front window, looking back at him.