I CAME TO, my head pounding. There were bright lights all around and my eyes hurt. I was confused to see Molloy’s concerned face peering down at me as I struggled to speak.
“Where am I?” I tried to sit up.
“Glendara Hospital. Don’t move. You’ve been shot.”
“What?”
“It’s okay. You were only grazed, but you shouldn’t move for a bit. You were knocked out when your head hit the wall.”
I lowered myself back down. “What happened?” was all I could manage. Two- or three-word sentences seemed to be my limit.
“Raymond Kelly’s dead. Conor Devitt shot him.”
“And Alison?”
“Alive – thanks to you. She’s in custody with Conor. The bullet grazed you en route to its actual target: you deflected it.”
I nodded – then winced. It was beginning to come back to me.
Molloy sat on the seat beside the bed, his long legs stretched out in front of him. “We arrived as the second shot was fired. Too late to save Kelly, unfortunately, but in time to stop anything else from happening. You were unconscious. I thought …” His face clouded. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re all right. Though why the hell did you go up there?”
“I’m nosy,” I croaked.
Molloy produced a slight smile.
“How did you know?” I asked.
“Mary Devitt called us. We found your car at the church.”
My throat was dry and I asked for water. Molloy handed me a plastic cup from the bedside locker. I drank thirstily, feeling a tiny surge of energy as I did so; my brain was starting to wake up.
“Why didn’t Ray Kelly come armed?” I asked. “He must have known what he was facing when Conor called him.”
“He probably didn’t care enough to put up a fight, especially when he knew about Conor and Alison. He was aware he was going to die anyway – it seems he only had weeks. Alison is singing like the proverbial canary. She keeps saying it was Kelly she loved. It’s a shame he had to be dying for her to realize it. Strange woman.”
“Conor seemed to think she was too afraid of Kelly to leave him.”
“It probably suited her for him to think that. She certainly knew all about Kelly’s past, but I suppose it was the only way Conor would have understood her staying with Ray.”
“So she had two men who were prepared to risk their lives for her.” I shook my head. It hurt a lot. “What about Conor? How is he doing?”
“He hasn’t said a word since we brought him in. It’s as if he’s in shock.”
“He saw Kelly, the night of the Sadie, as a child,” I said.
“So I understand. Kelly was in the IRA briefly in his late teens. After the bombing of the Sadie, he took off to the States for twenty years. Thought he was safe enough to come back by then, I suppose, persuaded by his wife. But Conor recognized him and vowed revenge.”
“And fell in love with his wife in the process,” I added.
Molloy nodded. “They hadn’t seen each other since they were children, apparently. When they met again, they started an affair. But it seems it meant more to Conor than to Alison. He wanted her to leave Kelly, which she wasn’t prepared to do, but she couldn’t end it with Conor because he knew about Kelly’s past. She was trapped. It all came to a head the morning of Conor’s wedding. Alison had told Conor that Kelly was going to the States for a few weeks to bring back some equipment for the bar, so Conor decided to confront him before he left. He got Kelly up to the church by pretending he was going to withdraw his objection to his planning application.”
“And instead he confronted him about the bombing,” I put in. “But why didn’t he tell him about the affair, if he was trying to get Alison to run away with him?”
“He didn’t have a chance. Kelly quickly overpowered him, knocked him out, and left him for dead in the crypt. Kelly had told Alison he was going to meet Conor at the church, so when Conor didn’t turn up for his wedding, and she didn’t hear from him, she went up there on her own and found him that night. It was Alison who came up with the plan of dressing Stephen McFerry’s body in Conor’s clothes, and putting it in the crypt, so that Kelly would think it was him when he got back from the States. By that time the body would have been sufficiently decomposed to be unrecognizable.”
“They must have used that passageway between the graveyard and the church,” I said. “That explains why those planks came away so easily.”
Molloy nodded. “Yes. As it turned out, Kelly was content to leave the body there untouched for years. It looks like all he did was put a padlock on the gate to the crypt. Didn’t even go in to view his handiwork. I suppose the risk of leaving the body there would have been less than moving it. Especially since no one knew about the crypt.”
“Apart from poor Danny,” I said.
“Yes.”
“I presume Kelly would have moved the body before he sold the church if Liam hadn’t—” I stopped mid-sentence.
“Jumped the gun?” Molloy smiled. “It’s all right – I know. He came to the station, told me the whole story. You’re right. As a matter of fact, it looks as if Kelly started to dig a shallow grave in the old graveyard but he didn’t get a chance to finish the job. Maybe he was too weak, or the opportunity to go to the States for treatment came up.”
“So, Conor did what Alison wanted and disappeared – went to England?”
Molloy nodded. “He’s been working there on the building sites in London. Amazing no one happened to run into him really, over the years. He was sure he’d convince Alison to leave Kelly and start a new life with him. It turns out they’ve been meeting up every few months for the past six years. She was afraid to end it because of what he knew about Ray, and so it went on, until the body was found.”
“And poor old Danny got caught in the crossfire,” I said.
“Yes. He was using that cottage of his beside the church as a workshop at that stage. It seems he saw Conor and Ray both go up there the morning of the wedding, but only Ray come back. So he went up to investigate and found Conor locked in the crypt, with a cut to his head where Ray had hit him. They had a row, shouting at each other through the gate, and Danny ended up leaving Conor there so he’d miss his wedding.”
“Danny must have thought it was his big chance to get Lisa back.” It was very sad. “His mother said he was like a child in many ways. And of course he knew about Conor and Alison – he’d seen them together. Another reason for him to want Conor to miss his wedding.” I paused. “But when he went back the next day to let Conor out and saw the body through the gate, why didn’t he go in? He’d have immediately seen it wasn’t Conor if he had.”
Molloy shrugged. “Danny was the one who found his father’s body. Maybe something snapped when he saw what he thought was his brother’s body and he just couldn’t handle it. He’d left Conor alone for twenty-four hours with a head wound, after all. He must have been horrified by what he’d done. He disappeared himself for a while after that. Had a bit of a breakdown, by all accounts.”
“Poor Danny,” I said. “Imagine carrying that guilt for all those years, thinking he was responsible for his brother’s death, when all the time local people were wondering what had happened to Conor. He must have been completely haunted by it. I wonder if that was why he moved into the cottage – so he could maintain some sort of a vigil over what he thought was his brother’s body?”
Molloy sighed. “Possibly.”
“So, on Christmas Eve when Lisa told him she was getting married, he was so overcome with guilt again that he went up there and wrapped the bones in a blanket and put a pillow beneath the skull.” I shuddered at the thought. “He couldn’t bear the idea of Conor being there alone in the cold crypt, because of him. As far as he was concerned, he’d caused his own brother’s death for a girl who was now marrying someone else. Not only did Conor not get to marry Lisa, but he didn’t either.”
“His big mistake was talking to Alison, telling her what he knew. He couldn’t have known how dangerous she was. And how desperate. Especially with the pressure Conor was putting on her.”
“And she really did it to protect Ray?”
“Who knows what her real motives were,” Molloy said. “Whether she actually loved him, or loved the security he provided, who can tell? If Danny had talked to us or even to Ray, it would all have come out and she would have lost everything. Her parents lost everything here when she was a child. She wasn’t going to let that happen again.”
The door opened suddenly and a nurse stuck her head in. She saw Molloy, mouthed the words, “I’ll come back,” and closed the door again. The garda uniform has that effect.
Molloy stood up. “I’d better get going. Your bag’s in your locker, by the way. We took it from your car.”
“Thanks for coming.”
His brow furrowed. “You had me worried.”
I smiled weakly. “Sorry.”
He paused. “Ben, you know …”
I held my breath.
“I’m sorry I haven’t …”
“Yes?”
He shook his head. “It’s nothing. I’m just glad you’re all right.”
Before he reached the door, he turned back. “I nearly forgot. Two messages. Maeve’s feeding Guinness for you and Phyllis said to tell you she’d be in later. She’s a little busy this afternoon. You see, she’s acquired a new dog.”
I could feel a smile creeping across my face. “Fred?”
“Yep. And she also has to get over her shock at Eithne O’Connell being arrested for her involvement in those burglaries.”
“What did you just say?” I forgot, and tried to sit up again. Not such a good idea. Pain shot through my leg and I felt sick.
Molloy quickly came back over. “Careful.” He pushed me gently back onto the pillow.
“Eithne? Robberies? Really?”
“Yup. Someone put Bourke under some serious pressure to give her up.”
“Conor Devitt?”
“That’s right. Looks like he put his father’s shotgun to use before he even made it to the church. Threatened Bourke with it.” Molloy grinned. “Bourke’s made a complaint against him. Thinks there might be money in it. It’s not going to be much use to him where he’s going.”
“But how did he know? Conor, I mean.”
“About Eithne? I don’t think he did. I think he was just trying to make Bourke keep Eithne away from Claire before he took off again. But faced with a shotgun, Bourke of course got the wrong end of the stick and in a stunning display of chivalry told Conor that it was his sister who was behind the robberies, but that all the money was going to charity. No doubt thinking that would absolve him, get Conor off his back.”
“I saw Conor having a row with Eithne a couple of days ago. I thought it was about her giving Claire drugs.”
“I think that’s what it was about. Eithne denies it, despite what Conor thought. Says she was trying to help Claire get off them, that Claire has been buying them on the Internet for a while. But who knows? She denies any involvement in the robberies, too, of course.”
“Do you think Bourke’s telling the truth?” I asked.
“Well, Bourke’s business suffered badly after Conor left, and he robbed a couple of places he was doing work for. Bourke’s greedy, always has been. And he has an expensive taste in wives. Eithne found out what he was up to through doing his books, and she agreed to keep it to herself on the basis that they split the proceeds and she gave her share to charity, or had Bourke do it for her. Convinced herself everyone was insured so it didn’t matter. But it seems she couldn’t stop herself from managing the whole thing, feeding Bourke information about when people would be away. A pharmacist would be in a perfect position to do that; selling makeup for weddings, anti-malaria tablets for exotic holidays, that kind of thing. It makes sense. Bourke’s not the sharpest tool in the box. He’d have been caught long ago if it weren’t for Eithne.”
“Jesus.”
Molloy gave a wry smile. “According to Bourke, Jesus is why she did it. Running the local chemist in a small town gave her a view on the shallow nature of the way people lived, after her time in Uganda. Big weddings, cosmetics, perfume, expensive jewelry, holidays. She thought society was becoming too unequal. Thought that she’d do a little redistribution of wealth, even things out. Must have seen herself as a latter-day Robin Hood. We arrested her last night while you were on your way to the church to do your own superhero bit.”
After Molloy left, the nurse came in and gave me some painkillers. But I couldn’t get to sleep. I switched the light back on, reached across to the bedside locker, pulled out my bag, and found the book on Inishowen I had bought on my way to Dublin. I turned to the back, the chapter on the twentieth century, and leafed through it slowly. A word caught my eye. Sadie. I stopped, turned back the pages.
IN 1985 A British cargo ship the Sadie was hijacked and blown up by the IRA. The IRA’s intention at this time was to disrupt the maritime traffic in and out of the port of Derry.
A band of eight IRA volunteers came on board the Sadie via the pilot boat, which left from the tiny maritime community of Whitewater. They entered the pilot station and took the pilot hostage, with the intention of forcing him to take them to the cargo ship on board the pilot boat. Unfortunately the pilot attempted to escape and was shot. The IRA men nevertheless succeeded in boarding the ship from the pilot boat. They then informed the captain of their intentions and evacuated the crew of the tanker onto lifeboats, which were set adrift close to the shore. Charges were planted in the engine room and detonated. Two explosions occurred. The first set the ship on fire, the second caused the ship to sink, watched by the crew from the lifeboats. Tragically, two crew members remained on board the Sadie – it is assumed this was unbeknownst to the captain or the IRA cell. These two men, along with the pilot, lost their lives.
Many others were affected by the tragedy. After the bombing of the Sadie, many shipping companies stopped using the port of Derry, resulting in serious job losses. This had a devastating effect on the area, causing poverty and emigration. In particular, the small community of Whitewater – where the three deceased men lived and the pilot station was situated – was all but destroyed.
No arrests were ever made in connection with the bombing of the Sadie. The perpetrators all wore balaclavas and were never identified.
I closed the book and felt it fall from my hands with a soft thud, as the painkillers finally began to take effect.