‘So, ye’re no nearer catchin’ the swines then?’ Ned said to Brendan and leaned on the desk holding his head in his hands. Outside the lashing November rain beat against the windows.
Brendan frowned. ‘No.’
‘Have ye questioned Paddy Hogan?’
‘Sure, I went out to the Hogan’s place ages ago to talk to him and his mother, but I’m not sure he had any direct involvement. He could account for his whereabouts that night.’
‘So, where was he?’
‘He says he was at home and that Father Ryan had been out to dine with them that evenin’.’
‘Huh! And ye believed him?’
‘His mother confirmed it.’
‘Ye know as well as I do she’d lie for him. The sun comes out of his backside where that one’s concerned.’
‘Well every swan thinks their own signet’s whiter than the rest,’ Brendan said taking a bottle of whiskey from his drawer. He poured them both a shot. ‘C’mon now, Neddy, drink this, ye look as though ye need it.’
Ned thumped the table. ‘The feckin’ names they called her an’ all! English soldier’s whore! Ye know yerself, Brendan, she never goes out, except to help in the shop with the girls or in the bar for Nellie. She’s not even been out with anyone other than Paddy and she has certainly never gone out with a soldier! I’ll kill ‘em if I ever find out who ’twas did that to her.’
‘Best left to me,’ Brendan sighed, ‘though to be honest, Neddy, ‘tis goin’ to be difficult to nail these bastards. I’ve got nowhere with the enquiries in all this time. I know this so-called company of Irish National Volunteers has sprung up - but to harm a woman is unheard of! Everyone I talk to says the same; they cannot imagine who would do such a thing.’ He took a sip of whiskey and scratched the back of his head. ‘I wasn’t goin’ to tell ye, but Paddy even put in an appearance here a while back askin’ if I’d found out who did it.’
‘G’w’on away wit ’ ye, he never did!’
‘Sure he did. Now he’s either innocent, or he’s more canny than I’d given credit for. I’ll keep me options open at present and see which way the cards fall.’
Looking thoughtful Ned rubbed his chin.
‘Well, thanks for all ye’re doing, Brendan. Maeve and I won’t forget it.’
‘Look, Neddy, even if ye weren’t me cousin I’d be after this bunch of scum. We don’t want this kind o’ thin’ creepin’ in here. Ye don’t know where ’twill end. But I think we’re goin’ to have to lie low for now, and then maybe I’ll get a tip-off from someone.’
Ned took his cigarettes out, lit one and blew the smoke upwards. He sat thinking, sighed, and then leaned forward to flick ash into a saucer.
‘Ye know Cat’s set on goin’ off to England to live. She’s had an invite to go to Louis’ sister and family for a while. Apparently there’s plenty of work to be had in the Woolwich Arsenal packin’ ammunition for the war.’ His voice had a strained tone. ‘Now her hair’s grown back some, she says she’s goin’.’ He picked up the whiskey glass, but just sat staring at it.
‘Jesus, Ned, ye’ll miss her, and so will we. We all will. What a state of affairs that she has to run away to another country. It makes me sick to the heart.’
Ned shifted in his chair. ‘God save us, I don’t know what Maeve and I will do without her. Not just for the help on the land, but she’s the very breath in our lungs. I feel certain Paddy Hogan had somethin’ to do with this. It has to be him, or some connection don’t you think?’
He sat silently swirling the honey-coloured liquid round and round in his glass until Brendan broke into his train of thought.
‘Ye know, Neddy, even if I thought Paddy was at the bottom of this, how d’ye prove it? If he says he was with Father Ryan on that night, I’m not about to go and question Father Ryan about it.’
‘Why not? What’s to stop ye askin’ him?’
‘Fear, I suppose.’
‘Of what?’
‘I’m afraid that I may hear Father Ryan tellin’ me somethin’ I don’t want to hear.’
‘I’m not with ye, Brendan.’
‘Well, ’tis true Father Ryan did go out to Hogan’s that night, but I have no idea what time he left.’
‘So, d’ya think Paddy was usin’ the visit as a sort of cover?’
‘Could be, but I have no proof, Neddy. I can’t go questionin’ a priest about his movements, especially if he’s Paddy’s alibi; there’s no tellin’ where that one would lead. And anyway, even if ’twas Paddy, there were others too accordin’ to Cat.’ Brendan lifted his glass. ‘Sláinte.’
‘Sláinte, Brendan.’ Ned sipped the whiskey. ‘I see the way the land lies with these fiends. They’re too slippery for the likes of us, especially if they’re hidin’ behind a priest’s cassock.’
‘Maybe. But as a policeman I won’t just look the other way, they’ll thrive on that kind of inaction, to be sure. I shall have to find other means of discoverin’ the truth. They’ll slip up eventually.’
Ned got up and walked over to the window; his eyes welled with tears.
‘Do what ye have to Brendan. I won’t be expectin’ miracles. Cat’s leavin’ and I feel we’ve lost the battle already.’
* * *
The railway station was full of people boarding the boat train.
‘All aboard,’ the guard repeatedly called as he walked along the platform slamming doors. Young folk were hanging out of the train windows saying their last tearful goodbyes to families, reminding each other to write as soon as they could.
Ned watched it all as though in a dream. He saw the family huddling around Cat, pressing rosaries and medals of Our Lady into her hands, and he couldn’t speak. He thought Maeve looked pale as she tearfully kissed Cat goodbye.
‘Lord above,’ he heard her say, ‘I never thought I’d see ye go, mo chuisle.’12
He wanted to say so too. Wanted to shout out, ‘Don’t go Cat,’ but an appalling grief had gripped him and he could find no words to ease his pain.
The guard was shouting for everyone to stand back when Ned suddenly snapped out of his reverie. He pushed his way forward and elbowed the girls, Tom and Maeve aside. He went to Cat; pulled the collar of her coat straight; held her face in his hands and kissed her. Then his face wet with tears, he stepped back and watched her climb into the carriage and close the door.
A whistle blew and the train eased its way out of the station, swaying along the track until, smaller than a pinhead in the distance, it disappeared from view.
12 mo chuisle – my darling (pronounced ma cooshla)