An ordinary semi with an unkempt garden stood forlornly completing the row of fourteen similar residences. Clements hesitated for a brief moment surveying the structure. He studied the lawn, which had all the attributes of a wilderness playground. It became apparent that the occupants were reasonably young, as the evidence of toddlers lay half-hidden in the grass. Thoroughly unimpressed by the scene he morosely strolled to the front door, which bore witness to the dwelling’s lack of maintenance. Steeling himself he stepped up to the portal, the paint-work of which was blistered and faded in places. He pressed the bell and was not surprised to hear the electronic tone of a Taiwanese chime. Clements cocked an ear trying to decipher the familiar refrain. He was humming in unison as the door slowly opened to reveal a slightly overweight Sadie Stitt. ‘Come into the parlour,’ beamed Billy.
‘What?’ asked the bemused woman.
‘Come into the parlour now and make yerself at home,’ sang the stranger by way of explanation.
‘Are ye a fuckin singin salesman or somethin, cause if ye are, yer howlin up the wrong tree,’ she informed him through a wide grin.
‘Agh now, don’t ye be tryin te tell me that ye don’t know the tune yer own door bell’s playin.’
‘Shit aye, I must have that neutered one of these days. But in the meantime, I’ll start again, who are ye and what do ye want? Hope yer not one of yon Mormons, cause if ye are I’ve bin short changed. They’re usually big good lookin fellas,’ she chuckled.
‘Is that yer pleasure then Mrs., John Wayne we a beggin box?’ retorted Billy.
‘Do I have te stand here all day in me bare feet, or are ye gonna tell me what the fuck it is ye want?’
‘Okay Mrs., hold yer horses. I’ve come about a mutual friend and I don’t think she’d want us discussin her business on the doorstep. Know what I mean?’
‘Who are ye talkin about? What’s yer name anyway?’ replied Sadie.
‘John Brown and our mutual friend is, sorry was Clara Blackmore.’
‘Oh God help us,’ she screamed in blind panic, all the while backing into the house, trying to close the door in his face but Clements was too strong.
‘Take it easy Sadie, nobody’s gonna hurt ye honest. Calm down will ye, just calm down.’ The terrified woman kept reversing, never taking her eyes off the intruder. ‘What do ye want Mr., please don’t hurt me. Look the kids are at school,
they wont be back for ages. I’ll do what ever ye want,’ she pleaded looking toward the stairs.
‘God I’m sorry Sadie,’ replied Billy, trying to allay the distraught woman’s fears. ‘I swear te God I didn’t come here te harm ye. Look here’s me hand and here’s me heart,’ he said, placing his right hand across his chest. Slowly he moved to a chair by the fire and eased himself into it. Feeling a little less frightened she asked, ‘What is it ye want Mr.? I don’t know nothin.’
‘Clara was yer friend. Do ye not want the bastard who did those terrible things te her and the kids te get what’s comin te him?’
‘Of course I do, what do ye think? Clara was the only real friend I ever had and as for what that animal did te those poor wee children. He deserves…’ Sadie could not finish her tirade as her body was suddenly wrecked by shuddering sobs. Her heart-rending grief sent torrents of tears streaming down scarlet beefy cheeks, streaking them with cheap mascara and giving her the appearance of a grieving clown. Clements was at a loss; he had no experience at comforting the distraught. Still he awkwardly put an arm around the wailing woman’s shoulders rocking her gently to and fro. ‘Please stop crying Sadie, I didn’t come here te upset ye, ye have te believe me. Our only concern is te catch the man who committed this crime. He has te pay Sadie, he has te suffer worse than Clara and her kids.
Her sobs became sniffles as she fought to bring herself under control,
‘Sorry, I thought ye were him. Stupid eh, but I haven’t really slept since that night, ye know how it is.’
‘That’s understandable Sadie. Where do ye keep the tea and stuff? I’ll put the kettle on and we can have a chat after we’ve had a cuppa, alright?’
‘Thanks, I could murder a cup. The kitchen’s through there,’ he was informed, her meaty finger pointing the direction. Like most Irish housewives Sadie believed unwaveringly in the medicinal qualities of tea. Her demeanour changed miraculously after the first swallow.
‘Feelin better love?’asked Billy, showing genuine concern. Encouraged by her timid nod, which accompanied the hint of a smile, he decided to forge on.
‘Okay first question, did ye see her after she arrived back from England?’ Sadie appeared shocked by the question.
‘How do ye know she was over there?’ she queried anxiously, once more on the defensive.
‘She was invited te meet someone, a colleague,’ he lied. ‘Look, let me try te help ye out here. I can see ye still don’t trust me.’ The frightened woman eyed him warily. ‘Right, after George was lifted she received an invitation and some spendin money, correct.’
‘Aye she did,’ answered Sadie suspiciously.
‘And she was confused, so she called ye cause ye’re mates,’ continued Clements. ‘She thought that ye could give her advice seein yer auld man’s in the Kesh.’ Sadie answered his revelations with the slight nod of her hilighted head, still unsure of the stranger’s motives. ‘Ye also told her that someone was probably tryin te see her alright, just as they had done for yerself, when yer man got taken,’ again a nod.
‘Clara’s case was different from your one Sadie. Considerin the circumstances of George’s arrest. The operation was a shambles and we wanted to know why the army were in the area. To be straight we ye Sadie, yer mate was under suspicion. Wait a minute now before ye interrupt,’ demanded Clements, as the woman began to rise from her seat. ‘Don’t get yer knickers in a twist Sadie, we know that Clara had nothin to do we it. Slowly Sadie regained her seat assured that her friend’s honour was not in question. ‘Anyway, we had no way of telling whether or not she was guilty at the time. That was why she was brought over the water, to be questioned. After talkin to her for a bit, it became obvious that she had no idea of George’s outside interests.’
‘I’m beginnin te understand, you people make me sick,’ she spat. ‘No way could it have bin an accident, oh no, somebody had te be a traitor, for yer never wrong. Well ye were wrong twice this time weren’t ye? Poor Clara didn’t even know yon fucker was capable of bein a member. I hate te speak ill of the dead but if he and the likes of ye went out and worked for a livin, she would be alive today. Jasus, she was so upset when the peelers wrecked her wee house, she went to the citizens advice bureau to ask what te do. Where were the brave boys then eh?’ she screamed, disintegrating once more to tears. ‘If she had known he was a member she would have coped better with the situation. She would have tried to get in contact we ye. Come te think of it, that would have put the cap on it. Guilty as charged. After yer bloody package arrived she was nearly at her wit’s end and that’s when she rang me. I hurried over when I heard the state of her on the phone. It was me who told her about help from ye know where. Oh Christ I suppose that makes me a tout now, is that why yer here?’
‘No Sadie, that’s not it at all. As a matter of fact what ye have just said is exactly what she told us, word for word. No one is blamin ye for helpin a friend in need. The only reason I am here is te possibly pick up a clue as te who killed her, honest. Now to get back to the first question. Did ye see or speak te her after she got home?’ No I feel guilty about that,’ answered the bedraggled housewife, ‘I got some messages in for her but when I got te her house I realised that I had left her key on the mantle-piece. I had te get te town for the sales, the boy needed new shoes. Ye know how it is. Anyway I left the carrier bag on the doorstep with a note explainin the problem and promised te ring her that night. One thing led te another and I didn’t get the chance. So the last time we spoke was before she left for England.’
‘She never called when she got in?’
‘No I told ye, she probably never got the chance. God I hope that bastard rots in hell,’ which was the cue for a fresh outburst of weeping.
‘Sorry I had te put ye through that, it must be desperate for ye but we have te know every detail if we are gonna catch the bastard. If anything strange comes back te ye, anything at all givus a bell. Here’s a contact number Sadie,’ he offered quickly, scribbling on a piece of paper. ‘I don’t have te tell ye not te mention it te anybody. One last thing, how are ye fixed for cash? Do ye need anything? What about the house? It looks like a coat of paint wouldn’t go amiss, if ye don’t mind me sayin.’
‘Naw the auld place is all right but I could always use a few bob. I’ve bin on the bones of me arse for two years. The kids are gettin bigger and it’s hard to keep up we shoes and the like. The wee buggers keep growin outa them, ye know how it is, There she had said it again, the fact was, Clements had not an inkling of how it was, he was oblivious to the cost of raising a family but was beginning to understand. ‘Say no more love, some-one will be round te give ye a wee hand and regards the cash ye can rest assured that matter will be taken care of right away. Well then, best of luck Sadie. If we catch him ye’ll be the first te know.’ Clements was up and through the door before she could say a another word. ‘I don’t know what te make of him, still every cloud has a silver lining,’ she said, as she observed the stranger disappear behind the tattered hedge.
Making his way to the main road Billy mulled over the events of the past week. The more he thought about it the more convinced he was that the IRA could not possibly be involved with the Blackmore deaths. His hatred for the republican movement was deep rooted but he had an undeniable respect for its members. ‘This atrocity was not their doin, I’m sure of it,’ he muse aloud. He assumed that the murder of the postman was somehow tied into the equation but how? Why would anyone want to torture innocent children? Clements was beginning to realise what a sick mess he had become involved in. Convinced that he was dealing with a maniac, he pondered, how do nutters think? What is the catalyst that makes them behave the way they do? If the killer is a homosexual, why would he make the boy have sex with his sister? What perverted pleasure would he derive from watching that? Fear and frustration were eating at him. The inability to formulate a plan of attack was a nightmare. How was he going to achieve something that he had absolutely no training for? He concluded that he needed assistance. Some form of guideline to follow. The realisation of his ineptitude forced him to consider his only option. A meeting with his superior was imminent and that is where he must make John aware of his shortcomings. Decision made he strode purposely to his vehicle and onward to his own side of town where he would down a few pints and try to forget the whole sorry affair, at least for tonight.