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Authors: Louise Phillips

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BOOK: The Doll's House
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Caldine Club, Kildare Street

Kate waited beside an open fire on the upper terrace. The place was the ultimate in chic, with rectangular stone tables, blue-and-white-striped couches on one side, pale-yellow-cushioned armchairs on the other. Each chair and couch had its own charcoal blanket with the emblem ‘CC’ embroidered in silver-grey thread.

She took in the two fifty-something females, with their designer bags, and the men in business suits at the far end. All of them sent only a fleeting glance towards her and O’Connor, then returned to their private conversations, except for the attractive waitress, who’d brought O’Connor downstairs to find the manager, Mr Devoy.

Under her arm Kate had the glossy brochure O’Connor had given to her. Flicking through the pages, she read the section on the upper terrace where she was standing – ‘an exceptional delight, superb dining under the Dublin skyline, with glorious music. A place where friends can meet and beautiful memories can be formed.’ Looking down on the street below, at the rough and tumble of the city, Kate was reminded of
Gulliver’s Travels
, and how from on high, Gulliver looked down on the little people of Lilliput.

It wasn’t long before O’Connor reappeared, gesturing to her to follow him. Inside, the building was as impressive as the terrace, reflecting sophistication and history, a place for the rich élite. James Devoy brought Kate and O’Connor into a second dining room. This time it was an empty one.

Devoy was a small man, no more than five foot two, and looked even smaller alongside O’Connor. He had dark Italian features, and
Kate figured him to be in his late thirties. The second dining room was elaborate, its dark solid wood panels carved with floral designs. Again the tables were dressed in a combination of blue and complementary shades. This time the pale yellow was replaced by dark navy, contrasting with white candles and napkins.

‘Mr Devoy.’ O’Connor’s voice sounded strangely out of place.

‘James, Detective Inspector, call me James.’ Kate could tell the manager was already too friendly for O’Connor’s liking.

‘James,’ O’Connor replied, not offering the same instruction back, ‘my colleague tells me you were on duty the night of Keith Jenkins’s murder.’

‘Yes, that’s right.’ Devoy looked uncomfortable with the word ‘murder’. ‘I started my shift at eight, and continued until three the following morning. I have already given your colleague a list of those who attended the club.’

‘Was there anything unusual about Keith Jenkins’s behaviour, or anyone he came into contact with?’

‘We had a full house, Detective Inspector. Mr Jenkins, Keith, drank in the private members bar.’ His voice weakened as he mentioned Keith Jenkins’s name, as if he’d lost someone close to him.

‘So it was a busy night? The drink flowing, was it?’

‘It was a long night, Detective Inspector.’

‘How would you describe Mr Jenkins’s mental state during the evening?’

‘He was his usual cheery, chatty self.’

‘Was there anyone in particular he spent time with?’

‘Only Pete.’

‘Pete?’

‘Pete Moore, the DJ.’

‘Buddies, were they?’

‘You could say that. I think Pete wanted more out of their friendship, if you get my drift.’

‘Really?’ O’Connor made no attempt to hide his curiosity.

‘Don’t get me wrong, Detective Inspector, all our gents behave with discretion. It’s something we pride ourselves on at the club.’

‘Well, in my book, Mr Devoy, the avoidance of discretion usually gets to the truth faster.’

‘All I’m saying is, they were good friends.’

‘I see Siobhan King wasn’t on the list of visitors that night.’

‘No, Keith tended to enjoy certain nights with the boys. She hasn’t been here for a while. The last time must have been over two weeks ago.’

‘And how was their mood on that occasion?’

‘Good. They had dinner downstairs, the public section.’

‘And did they stay for long?’

‘No. They left in rather a hurry, quite surprising.’

‘So what spooked them, James?’

‘“Spooked” might be a bit dramatic, Detective Inspector, but I will admit Keith’s demeanour changed rather quickly.’

‘Maybe a friend of his wife saw the two of them. It’s never good when the
little wife
catches you out.’

‘Perhaps you’re right, Detective Inspector,’ a degree of hostility had come into his voice, ‘but it’s not like their relationship was secret. Either way, if they wished to remain, we could have brought them to dine upstairs. There’s always a private table for special members of the club.’

Kate, who had taken a back seat up until this point, decided to take it gently with the club manager. ‘Mr Devoy?’

‘James, please.’ He turned his attention from O’Connor to Kate.

‘You seem to imply that Keith Jenkins felt uncomfortable in the public restaurant. Otherwise, why suggest the private one upstairs?’

‘Well, when he asked for the bill early, I asked him if there was anything wrong.’

‘And what did he say?’ Kate kept direct eye contact with James Devoy, knowing O’Connor was also waiting to hear the answer.

‘I thought it strange at the time, but then I forgot about it.’

O’Connor stood forward. ‘Forgot about what, Mr Devoy?’

‘Keith said everything was fine, then muttered something about old friends best forgotten. It was a strange thing to say, but you get used to hearing a lot of strange things around here. You learn not to bat an eyelid, one way or another.’

O’Connor, who had been taking everything down, turned another page in his notebook. ‘The diners in the public restaurant that night, you would have a list of them, Mr Devoy?’

‘Oh, yes. We’re very careful when it comes to taking bookings from non-members. I’ll get it for you.’

‘Most kind of you.’

When Devoy had left, Kate couldn’t resist taking a swipe at O’Connor. ‘I see you’re already getting used to this high life, “most kind of you”!’

‘Ah, get off my case. This type of place messes with your head. Ten minutes into it, and I’m already acting like a performing monkey.’

‘Would you put Keith Jenkins into that category?’

‘I don’t know, Kate. Like me, apparently, he came from humble beginnings. The only difference is, I stayed there.’

‘My heart bleeds for you.’

‘You know what they say about new money, Kate? It can fuck you up fast.’

‘Hardly new, he’s been successful for over twenty-five years.’

‘About the same age as his latest female companion,’ O’Connor retorted, with emphasis.

‘Well, apparently men never grow old, O’Connor, if they have enough money.’

‘I’m screwed so.’

Kate laughed, and O’Connor smiled, looking more like his old self. ‘Kate, I was thinking. Maybe at some point the two of us could meet up for a drink.’

‘I’m not sure – it’s kind of awkward. Declan’s away.’

‘It’s just an idea, don’t worry if you’d prefer not.’

‘No, it’s fine – perhaps when my case work gets a little less manic.’

‘Grand so.’

When Devoy returned, he handed O’Connor the list, looking pleased with his efficiency. ‘Anything else I can help you with, Detective Inspector?’

‘No, thank you, Mr Devoy. We know where you are, should anything else come up.’

‘Great.’

Outside, O’Connor received a call from the station. Kate took it as her opportunity to leave, merely waving goodbye.

Why had O’Connor asked her out for a drink? Her head felt in a mess. And why had Declan bloody well not called? Driving to Ocean House, Kate put the conversation with O’Connor to the back of her mind. She had a long day ahead and plenty on her plate, not only this case but working out a strategy for Imogen Willis. But she couldn’t shake the thought that O’Connor wasn’t the kind of guy to ask female friends or colleagues out for a quiet drink, unless there was something on his mind.

Parnell Road

I followed the two of them from the temporary shelter in Camden Street last night. It was the final one on the list, and I was hoping it wouldn’t have room for Jimmy and his pal. Opportunity will beckon soon enough. I need to control my rage. Clodagh has a habit of knowing which buttons to press. I can’t afford to allow silly emotions get in the way.

The first killing was easier than I’d thought it would be, easier than the anger. My mind has slipped all too readily into this half-life. I have held conversations keeping up the pretence. I have even closed my eyes, as if I’m entitled to sleep, as if I remain the same man. And, as night follows day, the next deed will be done.

He’s with that tramp called Ozzie Brennan again. It’s hard to miss that thick grey curly hair of his, not to mention his drink-ridden face. Calls himself a poet, he does. Well, maybe he is. My gripe isn’t with Ozzie. He can write a lament about his friend Jimmy when he’s gone.

I light a cigarette, keen to get some nicotine inside me. The two old lads will be together for the rest of the afternoon. They’ve already picked their special bench, with its folded cardboard layers to keep them snug, and their ringside view of the canal, Ozzie thinking he’s Kavanagh, mourning the dead poet, while Jimmy does what he’s always done: sweet fuck-all.

Give the two of them enough cans, and the boys will start arguing. Night will come soon too, and if they separate, then Jimmy and I can have our date with Destiny. He won’t see it coming. I’ll make sure of that.

Mervin Road

At Ocean House, Kate checked if she’d missed a call from Declan – still nothing. Blast him to Hell. If he didn’t want to check in on their son, that was his problem. Her next appointment wasn’t until later in the afternoon so she contacted Imogen’s social worker to set up the family meeting. After that she began her preliminary report on the Jenkins killing.

There were set norms in the psychological investigative cycle, the first stage of which was information-gathering. Every detail was important, no matter how obscure it might seem. In the early stages of an investigation, there were any number of ways could go, but irrespective of this, the facts as presented were the solid blocks from which everything else followed.

Preliminary Report on the Murder of Keith Jenkins

Compiled by Dr Kate Pearson

Crime-scene characteristics

• Primary crime scene

• Middle-aged male victim, age 57

• Well-known public figure

• Public location – Grand Canal (below Leeson Street Bridge)

• Cause of death: drowning

• Other factors: multiple stab wounds to lower chest

• Slash markings on victim’s right arm

• Knife attack at secondary location

• Estimated time of death five a.m.


Last sighting pending CCTV footage: late-night shop, Charlemont Street

• Wedding ring missing

• Scarf missing (based on witness statements from earlier sightings)

• All other valuables left with victim

• Victim semi-conscious: capable of walking while aided prior to death

• Assailant and victim arrived by car

• Assailant similar in build to victim, with dark brown hair

• Death by drowning within moments of arrival at canal

• Large blood pooling and blood splatters at crime scene; blood type that of victim

• Victim put up resistance prior to drowning

• Deposits below victim’s nails – test results outstanding

• Secondary evidence found at scene inclusive of hotel receipt: awaiting full police report

Crime Inferences

• Crime scene: semi-organised

• Killer capable of overcoming victim with aid of weapon – small double-edged knife, exact type unknown; could be domestic kitchen knife

• Degree of planning: knowledge and use of canal ledge to facilitate drowning

• Minimal human traffic, reducing potential witnesses at time of killing

• Access to knife, or present on person, during initial stabbing

• Access to transport: car

• Victim: well-built male in good health, capable of defence


Slash markings on victim’s right arm consistent with attempted defence

• Knife attack at secondary location severe; victim would have bled to death if left unaided

• Death does not appear to be financially motivated

• Multiple stabs wounds; frenzied attack, then a final thrusting

• Killer capable of planning next move

• Stabbing, although frenzied and indicative of emotionally driven aggression, inconclusive as to principal motivation

• Location and means of killing: appears planned

• Initial attack: also potentially planned

• Celebrity status of victim opens up wide pool of potential suspects

Conclusions

• Killer: male

• Similar in build to victim; possibly similar in age

• Physically capable of overcoming victim with a weapon (knife)

• Stabbing indicates aggressive mental state

• First assault – knife wounds – ‘expressive violent act’, resulting from an outburst of emotional feeling

• Second fatal assault – drowning – ‘instrumental violence’: used as a means to an end

• Killer capable of displaying calmness after initial attack, following through on actions by driving to canal to carry out murder

• Choice of location could be critical

• Cause of death – preferred choice of killer – drowning, could also be critical

• Despite being deserted at time of killing, choice of public place
‘high risk’: fear of being caught not uppermost in the killer’s mind

• If method of killing, location of murder, and timing are not random, choice of victim
unlikely to be random
.

In many ways, it all pointed to the one question that had played on her mind since she had received the first call from O’Connor. Why bring a dying man to the canal to drown him?

She thought about the images pinned on her study wall at home. If she could turn back the clock, what would the dead Keith Jenkins say to her? Where would he tell her to look? Was it his missing wedding ring, the hotel receipt or something else? Semi-conscious when he arrived at the canal, Keith Jenkins would have seen the face of his killer. He would have been aware that the killer had the power to determine his fate. Had Keith Jenkins called out for mercy or, when he had looked into the eyes of the killer, had he known death would be the only outcome?

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