Brothers' Tears (24 page)

‘And within a few hours the man who came to see you was killed. It must be obvious to you that we need to know exactly what was said during that late-morning meeting on Friday.'

‘I can see that.' John was now extremely uncomfortable, though he was trying hard not to show it. He didn't want to tell them what had passed between him and O'Connor, because it wouldn't show him in a good light. But he was shrewd enough to know that these men had a large team who were experts at digging out information which people wished to conceal. If he didn't tell them the truth and they discovered it from someone else, it might land him deep in trouble. He tried to stall them a little whilst he decided exactly what he was going to say. ‘What took place was a private exchange between two men. Dominic wouldn't have wanted me to talk about it now, any more than I do.'

Peach said with the air of a man whose patience is wearing thin, ‘And Dominic is now dead, murdered by person or persons as yet unknown. That alters things quite drastically, as you are surely aware.'

‘Very well. Dominic O'Connor came here to warn me off – to tell me that I wasn't going to benefit financially from any association with his wife.'

‘And how did he propose to do that?'

‘He said what I already knew: that he was a Catholic who didn't approve of divorce and wouldn't consent to it. When I said that that would represent no more than a delaying tactic, he told me he was planning to change his will. Ros would inherit nothing. And she would get nothing if she left him whilst he was alive.'

‘And your reaction to this was?'

‘I told him that I didn't think the law would allow him to behave like that. Women have rights to property, even in a divorce which they have initiated. He conceded she might get the house, or a share of it. But he was a rich man, a partner in a prosperous firm, and he'd get an expert lawyer onto the task. He would deny Ros and me every possible penny. He said he thought I should know this, since it would undoubtedly change my intentions towards his wife.'

‘It must have shaken you.'

‘It didn't. Well, not as much as you might think. I wasn't really surprised that he knew about Ros and me. Discretion isn't Ros's strong point – if he challenged her, she'd be likely to scorn deceit and come out strongly about her feelings for me and her feelings for him. I think he was eventually more rattled than I was. I said I was sure he couldn't leave Ros as destitute as he planned to do, and that even if he succeeded it wouldn't alter my feelings in the slightest.'

John Alderson stopped on that. He was almost challenging them to dispute what he said, because it was important to him that he asserted the depth of his love for Ros. Peach said reasonably, ‘But this meeting must have shaken you to some degree. The discovery that the man was hell-bent on denying you the financial benefits you could have expected from a long-term relationship with Ros must have altered your expectations about the rest of your life.'

‘No. Dominic O'Connor thought he could make me back off. He thought that if I was told I wasn't going to make big money on the deal I'd drop his wife like a used coat. He looked round this place and assessed it, the way you did when you came here on Wednesday. He said that I was unemployed and anything but prosperous. Then he said he was sure I wouldn't want to take on an enemy like him, that I'd see sense and back off.'

‘And did you agree with him?'

John was shrewd enough to know that Peach was trying to nettle him, to make him reveal more of himself than he wished to do. He took his time, trying to estimate what reactions his words would excite in these men who wanted an arrest. ‘I surprised myself a little, I think. I told him that I didn't want him as an enemy. I said that I could understand that he must feel humiliated that someone like me now had the affection of his wife. But I also pointed out that he'd brought this upon himself by taking a string of lovers and treating Ros with contempt. I told him that I wasn't in this for financial gain and that it was insulting of him to presume that I was. I said that the lady would decide on this and that I was confident that Ros would come to me, whatever the financial set-up might be. I then asked him to leave my house.'

‘You sound very organised. You sound as if this is a statement you prepared in case we came to interview you about this meeting.'

John smiled for the first time since they'd mentioned O'Connor's visit here. ‘It wasn't as cool and as logical as this at the time. There was passion on both sides and a good deal of shouting. I've given you the gist of a very animated half hour.'

‘So he came to threaten you, but was met with defiance and sent away without satisfaction. But you now knew that he was determined to deprive you of whatever financial benefits he could. So you thought about it and decided that you had better act quickly, before he could implement his threats. Knowing that his wife would be away visiting her sister, you went there on the evening of the same day and killed Dominic O'Connor.'

‘No. I know it looks bad, which is why I didn't want you to know about that meeting on Friday morning. But the money or lack of it wasn't going to alter my intentions one jot.'

He hadn't realised how hard he was breathing, how emotional he felt, until the CID men rose to leave. He was dimly conscious of Peach warning him coldly that they might require a statement about the events of Friday morning. Then they were gone and he was standing in the empty hall of his house, pressing his forehead hard against the coolness of the long mirror on the wall.

D
CI Peach had not been back in the CID section for two minutes when there was a summons from on high.

‘I need to be put in the picture. I can't form a satisfactory overview of the local crime scene unless you put me in the picture,' complained Thomas Bulstrode Tucker. The Chief Superintendent sounded rather petulant on the internal phone.

Percy looked at his watch. Two minutes to four on Friday afternoon. Par for the course, then: Tommy Bloody Tucker preparing to depart for his weekend whilst a murder hunt continued without him. Peach climbed the stairs with a stoic resignation and watched the lights beside the door flash a succession of commands when he pressed the button beside them. He donned an artificial solicitude as he sat down on the uncomfortable upright chair in front of the directorial desk. ‘Feeling better today, sir, are we?

‘Better?'

‘You were somewhat under the weather on Wednesday, sir. I was glad to hear you got home safely.'

‘Ah, yes. Wednesday. I was overworked.'

‘As a newt, sir.'

‘I suppose I may have been a little – well, unwise.'

‘As a newt, sir.'

‘Look, I don't mind telling you, Percy. As a friend, I mean. I think I might have – well, overindulged a little on Wednesday. Of course, I was perfectly happy—'

‘As a newt, sir.'

‘Look here, Peach, we're not going to get anywhere if you keep repeating that ridiculous phrase. Wednesday is over and done with. Part of history. Do you understand that, Peach?'

Percy was glad to hear that his forename had been abandoned. He felt much happier with the state of armed neutrality which prevailed when Tucker used his surname. ‘Was Mrs Tucker able to minister to your needs satisfactorily, sir?' Percy's face was suddenly suffused with the blandest of his inquiring smiles.

Tommy Bloody Tucker shivered visibly. This was a novel and pleasing phenomenon for Percy. He even felt a momentary spurt of sympathy for his chief at the thought of Brunnhilde Barbara's ministrations to her stricken husband. He didn't think helpless drunkenness was a quality of which she would approve in her spouse, even though Wagnerian scales of excess should have been within her tolerance.

The chief superintendent forced out a concession. ‘It was good of you to see that I was taken home safely on Wednesday.'

‘No trouble, sir. DC Murphy is an efficient chauffeur who can be trusted to maintain silence about the episode.'

‘Good. That's good. It was a bit of an overreaction on your part, of course. I was perfectly capable of making decisions and of driving myself home, but I know you meant well.'

‘I did indeed, sir.' Percy tried to dismiss the vision of himself acting as Jeeves to this unlikeliest of Woosters. ‘I expect Mrs Tucker was overreacting as well, when she rang in and accused me of sending you home as drunk as a lord.'

‘As a lord?'

‘I paraphrase, sir. I think the expression “piss artist” passed between her fair lips, but she seemed to be under considerable stress at the time. Perhaps you could disabuse Mrs Tucker of the notion that I was responsible for your condition on Wednesday. It might keep me out of the stocks.'

Tucker glanced fiercely at his watch. ‘Look, I've no time for any more of your fripperies. Put me in the picture on the progress of your enquiries into the Dominic O'Connor murder.'

‘It's a complex situation, sir.'

‘It shouldn't be.'

Percy was accustomed to his chief's curious reluctance to accept the world as it was. ‘There are several candidates for this one, sir.'

‘Huh! You already have a man in custody for the murder of James O'Connor. The death of his younger brother is surely a connected crime.'

‘That is what we expected to find at first, sir. It appears more certain with each passing day that the second murder has no connection with the first. Dominic O'Connor was six years younger than James and by his own declaration had not much in common with his brother. He had a different circle of friends and business acquaintances. It is possible that there is a connection between the deaths, but we now think that unlikely.'

‘But you still admit it's possible the deaths may have a connection. My experienced nose tells me that we should explore this first.' He jutted the sensitive proboscis aggressively towards his junior. ‘So give me your connection, and let me be the judge of the matter.'

‘Patrick Riordan, sir.'

‘Eh? Who? An Irishman, by the sound of it.'

‘You go to the heart of the matter with your usual perspicacity, sir. Mr Riordan is a former IRA killer who was released from the Maze under the general amnesty, sir. He was a known zealot who cared little for his own safety at the height of the Troubles. Because of that, the security service thought it politic to keep tabs on him, long after the Sunningdale Agreement and the peace settlement which most people on both sides accepted thankfully.'

Tucker showed unusual excitement. ‘Dominic O'Connor was Irish, you know.'

‘Yes, sir. His name and the fact that he was the younger brother of a famous Irish international rugby player rather suggested that to us. He was planning to employ professional protection at the time of his death.'

‘Was he really? Well, it looks as if this Riordan fellow got there first, doesn't it?'

‘It was because of that thought that DS Northcott and I journeyed to Moss Side, Manchester, to interview Riordan on Tuesday, sir. Our findings were summarised in the email I sent you on Wednesday. But you were indisposed on Wednesday sir, weren't you? As indisposed as a newt, one might say. You probably didn't get round to reading my report.'

‘So tell me now, Peach,' directed Tucker, between teeth which were dangerously clenched.

‘Pat Riordan is still working for the unofficial IRA. He regards himself as an avenger. I think he even uses that as an official title. It summarises the work he undertakes. He hunts down men whom the IRA regards as traitors and dispatches them. He regards this as legitimate vengeance and he claims it will encourage others to heed the message and rally to the Cause.'

‘He's a dangerous man, Peach. You need to handle him very carefully.'

‘I shall take note of that, sir.' The adjectives
blindin'
,
bleedin'
and
obvious
flashed in quick succession through his active brain. ‘Riordan was seen in a hire car in Brunton shortly before Dominic O'Connor was killed.'

‘Then you have him, Peach! Pull him in and charge him! I'm happy to have been of service to you in this.'

‘I expect you are, sir. Unfortunately, we need evidence. The CPS would never sanction a prosecution on what we have at present.'

‘Bloody lawyers, Peach! How much simpler our job would be without bloody lawyers!'

‘It would indeed, sir. However, in this case there is also the fact that neither DS Northcott nor I were convinced of the man's guilt. The bullet through the head is much more the approved method of terrorist dispatch than garrotting with electrical cable. People like Riordan seem to favour the bullet as being the soldier's method. But we haven't ruled him out. We're still seeking evidence.'

‘I can't think you've got anyone else who's as strong a bet as this man Riordan. However, I'm a fair man.' He looked truculently at Peach, as if expecting him to debate that. ‘I'm willing to listen to whatever other suspects you may care to parade before me.'

‘Very well, sir. As you are aware, sir, Dominic O'Connor was, on all the evidence we have, the victim of a surprise attack from the rear. Because of that, his killer could well have been a woman.'

‘Ah! A cowardly attack from behind. Could well have been a woman, as you suggest, Percy.'

Peach didn't like the return of his forename with this anti-feminist assertion, but he bore it manfully. ‘O'Connor was a womaniser, which has the effect of increasing the female field. The widow of his elder brother, Sarah O'Connor, is a definite possibility. She's quite a looker and she's one of her brother-in-law's more notable conquests. As you know, Dominic O'Connor ended their affair abruptly. Sarah O'Connor is not the kind of woman who would calmly accept being cast aside by a lover. She drives a distinctive blue BMW Z4 sports car. Such a car was seen within a mile of Dominic O'Connor's house at eight fifty-five on Friday night.'