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Wainwright’s flat was located on Crow Street just around the corner from the famous Temple Bar Pub. Walsh spoke with a manager who provided them with a key.
When they arrived, they were surprised to meet Mary leaving the flat carrying a shopping bag. She froze when she saw Maddock and the others approaching.
“Hello, Orla,” Mary said.
“Mary.” Orla gave a curt nod.
“I thought you lot were avoiding her.” Mary said to Maddock and Bones. She cast a meaningful glance at Walsh.
“We’ve decided to help one another find the killer,” Maddock said.
“Well, it certainly isn’t me.” Mary blanched, took a step back. “I was returning something of Andrew’s. I know he is gone but it just didn’t seem right to keep it.” Her voice cracked and she swallowed hard.
“What did you return?” Walsh said.
“A book Michelle borrowed from him. I left it on the table.”
“What is in the bag?” Walsh asked.
“Personal effects. Some things no one else needs to see.” Mary clutched the bag to her chest. “I did no wrong. This is nothing to do with what happened to him.”
“I’m afraid I will need to make that determination,” Walsh said. “Show me.”
Mary turned beet red. She leaned in and whispered something to Walsh, who nodded. The pair moved a few steps away and turned their backs on the two men. Walsh took a quick look inside the bag.
“You will have to leave these with me until the case is closed,” Walsh said.
“But they aren’t connected...” Mary began.
“Until the case is closed, I can’t know what is evidence and what isn’t.” Gently but firmly, Walsh took the bag from Mary. “I give you my word I will put them somewhere secure and return them to you at the proper time.”
With only the greatest reluctance, Mary agreed. After promising not to leave the city without notifying Walsh, she hurried away.
“What was in the bag?” Bones asked.
“Racy photographs.” The corners of Walsh’s mouth twitched. “Of the Polaroid variety.”
“Polariods?” Bones let out a laugh. “Do they even know it’s the digital age? These days, we do that on our phones.”
“Wainwright still used an AOL address,” Maddock said.
Bones winced. “Enough said. Still, good for them. Never too old to have a good time.”
The flat was sparsely furnished, with only a few pieces of artwork to add personal touches. Books were stacked two high and two deep on the lone bookshelf. Maddock scanned the shelves for the volume he sought.
Wainwright’s clue referred to the author, Bram Stoker. Wainwright did not care for American football and referred to the Miami Dolphins, the team Maddock supported, as the Porpoises. Maddock’s favorite player was Dan Marino. Stoker was born in Dublin at a home on Marino Crescent. Impaling Pen was another Stoker clue—referencing Vlad the Impaler, whose atrocities inspired the character Dracula, a novel penned by Stoker.
“I don’t see Dracula,” Bones said.
“We’re actually looking for a book called The Snake’s Pass,” Maddock said.
“Never heard of it,” Bones said.
“That’s because it’s a book and not a movie or television show.”
“Screw you, Maddock.”
“It’s a book about a treasure hunt,” Walsh chimed in.
“And the villain is a man named Murdock,” Maddock said.
Bones chuckled. “So, that’s what ‘you villain’ meant!”
“I don’t understand,” Walsh said.
“Wainwright found it funny that people are always getting my name wrong. Murdock and Maddox are the most frequent offenders.”
“Hold on,” Orla said. “Your name isn’t Murdock?” Her deadpan expression cracked into a smile, and she winked. “Only joking.”
They expanded their search to the flat’s other rooms. Maddock quickly found the book he sought. It was lying on the kitchen table.
He opened it and flipped through. Here and there, Wainwright had underlined single letters. He turned back to the first chapter and mentally assembled the letters.
“That must be the book Mary returned,” Orla said. “The one she said Wainwright lent to Michelle.”
“That is strange,” Walsh said. “If Wainwright intended this book as a clue, why would he lend it to Michelle?”
“I’m not sure,” Maddock said. His mind was on the clues. He took a pen and notepad off the kitchen counter and began jotting down letters.
WHERE LOU SPAT THE BIT
There were more underlined letters, but Maddock understood this first clue immediately.
“What does it mean?” Walsh asked.
“Wainwright just told us where to go next.”
