Chapter 9
They stood by the rusty gate now marked with white and blue crime scene tape. Moments later, a familiar voice filtered through the air as Macdara made his way toward them. After their close call Siobhán had to hold herself back from hurling herself into his arms. It was terrifying how fragile life was. Behind him on the path was Danny MacGregor, or should she say Garda MacGregor. It had been a while since their days at Templemore Garda College, but she could see straightaway that it was the same jovial Danny. He wasn’t overly tall, shorter than Macdara, but he was strong and handsome. His blond hair was cropped closely, and his hazel eyes had the usual playful glint as he grinned at her. She may not have made it through training without Danny’s encouragement. “O’Sullivan!” he called out from several feet away. Macdara frowned.
“Danny!” He broke into a jog, then embraced her, lifting her off her feet and whirling her around in a circle. The ground was still spinning after he set her down. “You look a mess, O’Sullivan,” Danny said, plucking a leaf out of her hair and roaring with laughter.
“Right, you two know each other,” Jane said. “What a happy reunion.”
Siobhán brushed dirt off herself. “We were nearly run over.”
“What did you just say?” There was Macdara, at her side, his voice filled with concern.
“A car nearly plowed into us. Jane saved us.”
“Eejits are always speeding on that road.” Danny shook his head in disgust.
“No,” Siobhán said. “I mean yes, they were speeding, but . . . I’m telling you . . . it was aiming for us.”
“Up there?” Macdara pointed to the road.
Siobhán nodded. “I didn’t see any tire tracks.”
“We’ll check it out,” Danny said. “I’m glad you’re alright.”
“Such a small world,” Jane said, her face turning toward Macdara.
“This woman was the star of our class at Templemore.” Danny pulled Siobhán in with an easy arm around her shoulders. “I worshipped her.”
“Did you now?” Macdara’s tone was clipped.
“Don’t listen to a word of it,” Siobhán said lightly. “Danny was the one everyone worshipped.” She leaned in as Danny laughed. “He broke the record for the tires every time.”
“The tires?” Jane said.
“We had to carry them while running through an obstacle course,” Siobhán said. “Everyone always dreaded it. Except for Danny here.”
“It was only to best you,” Danny said with a wink.
“That settles it,” Macdara said. “He’ll be grand on the case. As long as the solution depends on him running fast whilst carrying tires.”
Danny laughed again, but Siobhán was simmering. Jealousy wasn’t Macdara’s best color. Siobhán went to introduce Danny to Jane. “It’s a small village,” Jane said, cutting her off. “We know each other.”
“Six months into the job and I have my own murder probe,” Danny said. Excitement danced in his eyes.
“How lucky for you,” Jane said. Siobhán could tell the family resemblance from their sarcasm.
All color drained from Danny’s face. He was on the pale side of Irish pale, which was saying something, and now his face was nearly translucent. He stammered apologies to Jane.
“The forensic team is here; don’t you worry, everyone is focused on finding the killer.”
Jane nodded. “As you should be.”
Macdara moved to Siobhán’s side. Just then another guard rounded the bend. He was in his sixties and weathered, as if years of rain and wind had sculpted his face. “Jane,” he called, “is that you?”
Jane smiled at the sound of the voice. “Yes, Sergeant Eegan. Danny was just telling us how thrilled he is that me mother was murdered,” Jane said. “Apparently, it will be good for his career.”
“What’s that now?” Sergeant Eegan said, settling on Danny with a glare.
Danny’s face flamed red. “A misstatement is all; apologies again.”
A smile played at the corner of Jane’s mouth. She was enjoying taking him down a peg. Interesting. Siobhán was going to have to find an artful way to grill Macdara about his porcupine of a cousin.
Macdara introduced Siobhán and Detective Sergeant Eegan, and then talk turned back to the subject of murder.
“We haven’t concluded it was murder,” Sergeant Eegan declared, looking around as if performing for an invisible audience. “Is there any chance your mother took too many sleeping tablets?”
“Not unless you count a nip of whiskey,” Jane said. “It was her cure for everything.”
“Maybe she took too many nips?” Eegan asked hopefully. He searched their faces for agreement.
“Unlikely,” Macdara said. “Unless you’ve ever encountered a whiskey that causes one to foam at the mouth.”
“And there’s an overturned teacup at the scene but no whiskey bottle,” Siobhán pointed out.
“And the fact that the door was ajar and the main window broken,” Macdara finished.
Eegan frowned, then shifted his weight to the other foot as if one was better than the other for contemplating the matter.
“It certainly looked like foul play to me, Sergeant,” Danny said. He glanced at Jane as if bracing himself for another snide remark. “The foam and bruising around her mouth.”
“Exactly,” Siobhán said. “And her hands neatly posed.” She was eager for him to lay out his plan of action. They had to wait for the arrival of the state pathologist, but they could begin questioning the townsfolk. Something wild went on Friday night and by Saturday morning Ellen Delaney was dead.
“Settled?” Sergeant Eegan said. “Because this green lad says so?” He jerked his thumb to Danny. “Better be careful who you believe around here, little lassie.”
Siobhán stuck out her hand, which was very adult of her given she wanted to use it to punch Garda Eegan in the face. “I no longer go by ‘little lassie,’ ” she said with a smile. “You can call me Garda O’Sullivan.”
“Would you look at that,” Garda Eegan said, turning to Macdara. “Ye are coming out of the woodwork. Well, don’t you worry, we’ve got it covered with Cork City. We’ll know as soon as the toxicology report comes back. In the meantime this is my crime scene and you’ll have to stay out of it.”
“I need to fetch my luggage bag,” Jane said.
“Not possible,” Garda Eegan said. “It’s evidence now.”
“It arrived with me. After me mam was already dead. It can’t be evidence.”
“It’s in my crime scene and my crime scene will not be contaminated,” Garda Eegan said.
Siobhán placed her hand on Jane’s arm. “We’ll sort you out in Kilbane. I’ve two sisters. Between the three of us you’ll be grand. We can even do a bit of shopping if you’d like.”
“I’d like to get my bag.” If Siobhán wasn’t mistaken, a look of panic rippled across Jane’s face. Was there something particular in the suitcase she was worried about?
“Why don’t you mark the bag as an exhibit to go through quickly,” Macdara suggested. “Perhaps it could then be returned.”
“No,” Garda Eegan said. “I will not be rushed or have anyone interfering. Either of you.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Jane said. “Get detecting.”
“They’ll be waiting for the pathologist to arrive,” Siobhán explained. “That may delay matters.”
Garda Eegan folded his arms. “We’ve been given permission to move the body to Cork University Hospital. The pathologist will meet us there to do her postmortem. I’ll be sure to mention the sleeping tablets.”
Siobhán was getting tired of smiling, which was her signature move when dealing with men who didn’t want to listen to a woman. If that failed, she usually paired it with a dose of heavy sarcasm. “With your theory, Ellen Delaney must have busted her own window, ingested a deadly toxin, smothered herself with a pillow, then peacefully folded her hands over her dying body.” She stopped for a breath. “And I suppose her truck drove off on its own with her handbag and mobile?”
Eegan’s eyes scanned her, from head to toe, and back up again. His eyes flicked to Dara, as if searching for backup. Macdara simply stared back. Eegan shifted his weight, removed his cap, put it back on. “I’ve heard some of them tablets can make you do things in your sleep. Order items off the internet.”
“This village cut off our internet,” Jane said.
“You’re welcome,” Eegan replied. “I bet she would have been ordering all kinds of things and you’d be stuck with the bill.”
“We can help,” Siobhán said, mostly to Danny, who had gone so silent she’d almost forgotten he was here.
“How can you help?” Garda Eegan asked before Danny could utter a word. Not only had the poor lad been sent to this village, he wasn’t even allowed to flex his considerable skills. Why on earth did he stay? If Siobhán’s memory served, his girlfriend was from this small village and she had no desire to relocate.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Garda Eegan said. “Go home. We’ll take over from here.”
He was certainly in a hurry for them to leave. “Have you ever had a murder in Ballysiogdun?” Siobhán asked.
“This would be the first,” Danny said. The other guard cut his smile with a look. “Not that we’re happy about it. Not in the least. ’Tis terrible.” Poor Danny. They all kept staring, and he kept talking.
“My cousin is an excellent detective,” Jane said. “So is Siobhán O’Sullivan.”
“I won’t be reading my CV to either of you,” Garda Eegan said. “If you’ll excuse us, we have work to do.”
“Did you find Ellen’s handbag or mobile phone in the cottage?” Siobhán asked. “Do you have an eye out for her truck?”
“Her truck is key,” Macdara said. “Unless you think a fairy drove off in it?”
“Good day.” Garda Eegan whirled around and strode away. With a last look and a shrug, Danny followed.
“The victim is my aunt,” Macdara called after them. “We’ll steer clear of your official inquiries, but I will be staying until we’re good and ready to leave and I expect regular updates on the investigation.”
Siobhán placed her hand on Dara’s arm and gave it a squeeze. “Do you know if they found her handbag or mobile phone?”
“They asked me to stay back. I don’t think so, but I wasn’t privy to everything. Nothing has been removed yet though.”
“You’re sure you didn’t see it?” Jane was starting to sound desperate.
“Other than the papers on the counter, and the items we mentioned in the bedroom, the cottage was sparse.”
“Papers?” Jane’s alarm was obvious. “What papers?”
“A stack of papers on the kitchen counter,” Macdara said. “Maybe from her teaching days?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jane said. “She didn’t keep anything like that. The only thing she ever kept on the counter was her bottle of Powers. Good luck if you ever stole dat.”
“I’m only guessing as to the contents of the papers,” Macdara said. “We didn’t look.”
“How could you not look?”
Now Jane was needling at Macdara. Siobhán’s patience was stretching. She told herself she would not snap. Siobhán felt a presence, and looked up to find Danny, half hidden near the tunnel of trees, trying to catch her eye. She made her way over to him. “Did you get a look at the sink?” His voice was low.
She shook her head. “Why?”
“Text me when you’re alone.”
She glanced over her shoulder where Macdara was watching them. “Alone?”
Danny’s eyes flicked to Dara, then looked away. “His aunt is the victim.”
Siobhán nodded. She didn’t want to keep secrets from Macdara, but Danny was right, Macdara was too close to the victim. And she wanted to know what was in the sink. She would tell him all about it later. Catching a killer was the priority. Wouldn’t Macdara do the same if he was in her position?
“These guards will clear out in a few hours,” Danny continued. “Text me then.” He turned and disappeared.
“What was that all about?” Macdara sounded suspicious.
“He was just confirming that they would be on the lookout for the car that almost ran us down.”
“I see.” He didn’t believe her, but he didn’t want to start an argument in front of his cousin. Siobhán shifted her gaze to the farmhouse in the distance. Squeals of children playing rang out from their front yard. The handsome, peeping farmer was high on her list. “While they’re doing all this waiting, what do you say we pay your closest neighbors a visit?”
“Those teetotalers?” Jane sneered. “Good luck. The Madigan women are to blame for all of this. They led the crusade against the cottage.”
“They’re the closest to the crime scene as well,” Macdara said.
“Our neighbors, the killers,” Jane deadpanned. “Guess there goes borrowing a cup of sugar.”
“Maybe you should check into your local inn for a few hours, get some rest,” Siobhán said. Jane had been through a lot; she was wound up.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You need me to get in the door.”
“Besides,” Macdara said, “I’d feel better if we stuck together.” He gave Siobhán a look. “At all times.” Was he trying to warn her not to meet Danny? He’d asked for her help. He had to let her do it her way. If she told him what Danny said, would Macdara agree to step back and have her meet Danny alone? Normally, but he was jealous when it came to Danny. Those were the facts. Too close to the victim, and clouded by jealousy. She had to get a look at that sink, and Danny wanted her to come alone. She trusted Danny, and to him, Macdara was a stranger. Siobhán was going to have to walk a tightrope with this one, and she already feared she was getting too high up without a net.