The Doll's House (28 page)

‘Sit down, Clodagh.’ He gestures towards the bed.

I do as he asks, as if I’m on auto-pilot. He sits beside me, and I look up at him, my eyes taking him in, as if he’s a stranger, not the man I married.

‘You took the photograph, Martin,’ I whisper. I place it on my lap, both my hands on top of it.

‘I didn’t take any photograph, Clodagh.’

‘Didn’t you?’ I know he’s lying. He’s the master of lies when he wants to be.

He smiles, the kind of smile an adult would give to a child playing silly games. Martin could convince the world of anything if he set his mind to it. When he’s angry or hurt, he hits out, blaming others for his own shortcomings. Another thing I discovered after we were married. He’s doing it now. He’s pretending he’s kind, and that I’ve somehow imagined that the photograph of Dad and his old friends has made its own way into his briefcase.

‘Of course not, Clodagh. Why would I want your photograph?’

‘I don’t know, Martin. Why would you?’

‘You’ve been under a lot of strain lately, with rehab, Ruby leaving, your mother and all.’ The back of his right hand gently strokes the bruised side of my face. ‘You need to rest.’ He stands up, pulls across the bedroom curtains, making the room darker. He takes off my shoes, placing them neatly together among the piles of clothes on the floor. He lifts my legs, his other arm around my shoulders, easing me to lie down, taking the large throw at the end of the double bed, covering me with it as I curl sideways, bringing my knees up to my chest, feeling my tears create a pool of damp on the pillow. ‘You need to relax, my dearest Clodagh. Let me take care of everything. I’m going to get you something to help. I have some sleeping pills. Nothing too strong, just enough to help you get some sleep.’

My eyes stare back at him. The tears are taking his shape out of
focus. His body looks large and looming. I feel afraid. It’s a different kind of fear from before. It’s not the terror of a wife worried about being battered by her husband. It goes far deeper, as if the world is caving in on me.

When Martin returns with the tablets and the water, I swallow both tablets together, unsure if my own husband is trying to kill me and unsure if I care.

‘Martin.’ My voice is faint – as light as a summer’s breeze.

‘Yes?’

I’m remembering the garden I visited with Gerard Hayden, and I want that peace more than anything else right now.

‘Martin, why did you take away all the photographs of me?’ I wait. There is nothing but silence, until I’m finally lost in sleep.

O’Connor’s eyes were red and tired, as Mark Lynch knocked on his office door.

‘I’ve got something on Keith Jenkins’s buy-out of Hamilton Holdings.’

‘I’m listening.’

‘Jenkins was flash with money at the time – you know, expensive car, renting an apartment in Ballsbridge near to Montrose, eating out in expensive restaurants.’

‘So?’

‘He might have given the appearance of being financially sound, but in reality he was far from it.’

‘So where did he get the money to buy Hamilton Holdings?’

‘Precisely.’

‘Lynch, would you quit playing bloody games? If you have something to say, just say it.’

‘We have another player in the field, an Alister Becon.’

‘That smarmy politician?’

‘And also the owner of the boat that facilitated Adrian Hamilton’s last journey out to sea.’

O’Connor stared at Lynch for a few seconds, as if the last piece of information was gliding through his brain. ‘Have you spoken to Becon?’

‘Briefly, sir. He said “the accident”, as he called it, was a very long time ago, and he denies any involvement with the buy-out of Hamilton Holdings.’

‘What makes you think he was involved?’

‘I got talking to a contact in RTÉ.’

O’Connor raised his eyebrows. ‘Mixing in famous circles, are we, Lynch?’

Lynch ignored O’Connor’s comment. ‘As Isabel Blennerhasset told you, Adrian Hamilton was influential in getting Jenkins his first break in television. Back then everyone who got to be anyone knew somebody. When Hamilton croaked it, there were questions asked about where Jenkins had got the money from to buy out Hamilton Holdings.’

‘And?’

‘Alister Becon was loaded and a close associate of both Jenkins and Hamilton, not to mention Jimmy Gahan.’

‘Don’t tell me, Lynch, another old college bud.’

‘Indeed.’

‘So why did Alister Becon do the deal via Jenkins? Why didn’t he buy it himself?’

‘My friend had a couple of theories on that too.’

O’Connor finally indicated that Lynch should sit down. ‘I’m all ears, Lynch.’

‘It seems the relationship between Becon and Hamilton’s widow was strained. She would have been more inclined to take the money from Jenkins than Becon.’

‘Sounds like this is going back to what Deborah Gahan said.’

‘There were certainly rumours about Jenkins and Lavinia Hamilton being close.’

‘So why did Becon want to play the hero?’

‘I don’t know, but three out of the four of them are now dead.’

‘Which shines a very bright light on Alister Becon, even if it is only rumours.’

‘He’s not an easy man to get answers out of, sir.’

‘Politicians rarely are, Lynch. But he won’t be playing games with us. He’s right in my firing line. It could also tie in with Kate’s theory about there being other players in the field. Alister Becon would be an interesting addition to the mix.’

Standing up, O’Connor walked across the room to clear his thinking. ‘We might not be the only ones with Becon in our sights.’

‘The killer, you mean?’

‘Yeah, the killer – or there’s another possibility, getting back to Kate’s theory.’

‘The guy’s description doesn’t fit. He’s a lot shorter than Jenkins, and I doubt he would be capable of bringing either Jenkins or Gahan down.’

‘Lynch, his types rarely do their own dirty work. They have minions for that kind of thing. If Kate is right, and there is string-pulling going on, we need to get everything we can on him. I want to run his profile by Kate.’

‘The guy has some Republican connections. He had a minor role in the gun-running scandal of the seventies.’

‘Good friends with people in that circle?’

‘You know the way it works. Once you’re part of that crowd, you’re never out of it.’

‘That’s all we need, Lynch, some Provo activity to get Butler hot under the collar.’

‘I’m only telling you what I heard.’

‘I know that, Lynch.’

‘Do you think they could be involved?’

‘I doubt it. It’s not their style. A couple of bullets to the head would do it for them. These killings are far too messy for those boys to be part of it. No, Lynch, I think Kate’s right. There’s something more going on here than simply taking a couple of guys out of it.’

‘The Republican connection does complicate the Becon situation.’

‘You mean it might make him feel even more bloody protected in his ivory tower.’

‘Probably.’

‘Lynch, see what Undercover can tell us about Becon and his friends.’

‘Will do.’

‘Mind you, I still want to know more about why Hamilton Holdings collapsed in the first place. If this thing goes back to then, we need to have a complete handle on the ins and outs of it. Anything else from the CAB guys?’

‘Hamilton invested high in some property company that went belly-up. Shoddy workmanship and a list of parties suing to strip Hamilton of everything he had. Becon’s name came up there as well, as a part-owner, only he was better protected than Hamilton with a limited shareholding. Hamilton took most, if not all, of the risk. Gahan had a minor part in it too.’

‘Right, Lynch, keep digging. In the meantime, I also want to find out why Alister Becon became so charitable.’

‘Guilty conscience?’

‘I doubt it, Lynch. His kind doesn’t do guilt. No, there’s more to this, I know it.’

‘As I already said, sir, I’m not sure you’ll get any answers out of him.’

‘Plenty of professional tribunal training, has he?’

‘I’m just saying.’

‘Well, let’s see how he feels about being the next potential victim. There’s nothing like a life-threatening event to concentrate the mind. Right, Lynch, what’s keeping you? We’re off for a little chat with Mr Becon.’

‘You’re in charge.’

‘Glad you understand that, Lynch,’ he said, with friendly banter in his voice. ‘Now get Becon on the phone. I don’t want to waste my time on a house call if he isn’t there.’

‘He’ll be there all right. I told him we might be paying him a visit.’

‘A regular mind-reader you’re turning into, Lynch. We’ll need to let Butler know we’re putting the squeeze on Becon. He won’t be happy about us upsetting politicians. He’ll probably want to keep in Becon’s good books for his new career – whenever the hell he gets out of this place.’

‘You heard those rumours too, sir?’

‘I hear everything, Lynch, even if I let most of the crap slide on past me.’

‘Right.’

‘Oh, and, Lynch, we’ll need to phone Kate Pearson along the way. See how she thinks this all fits in. Becon doesn’t strike me as someone harbouring a sense of personal failure. Maybe he isn’t our man, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t pressing someone else’s buttons.’

Stepping out into the night chill, O’Connor looked at the cars parked on either side of the road. ‘Did you happen to find out, Lynch, what type of car Becon drives in his spare time?’

‘A 2010 black Mercedes.’

‘And his wife, what about her?’

‘A Land Cruiser.’

‘Does a lot of mountain driving, does she?’

‘I doubt it. Charity work mainly.’

‘A right pair of do-gooders. I can’t wait to meet them. You can do the driving, but don’t break any green lights.’

‘I won’t.’

‘What have we got back on Dominic Hamilton and Clodagh McKay?’

‘He’s clean, but she picked up a driving ban a few months back, drink-driving.’

‘Right, we’ll be chatting with them soon too.’

Getting into the car, O’Connor’s mobile rang. Martha Smyth’s call was brief. O’Connor turned to Lynch. ‘Looks like the labs in the UK have brought in information earlier than expected. It seems our pal was driving a Volvo S60.’

‘So the chief has his image for
Crimecall
.’

‘Yeah, don’t you love it when things start coming together?’ The next call O’Connor made was to Matthews. ‘I assume Martha Smyth has filled you in?’ Lynch closed the driver’s door as O’Connor continued, ‘We’ll need a list of owners. There can’t be too many Volvo S60s bought in the middle of a bloody recession.’ Then, looking at Lynch, ‘What’s keeping you? Get driving.’

Kate could tell O’Connor was highly charged while discussing Alister Becon. Becon certainly sounded like a man who could do his fair share of string-pulling, and the financial connection with Hamilton, Jenkins and Gahan was a further tie. Money might be behind a lot of the events, but at the core, there was a strong emotional undercurrent. The level of aggression, the ancillary factors, including the missing ring, the hotel receipt and the overwhelming need on the killer’s part for his victims to end up in the water, all pointed one way. This was personal.

After O’Connor’s call, Kate decided to phone Hennessy. He wasn’t happy to hear from her. Initially, she put his coolness down to her not being directly involved with the case. She had initiated the phone call on the basis of a connection with the Rachel Mooney attack, and the two other sexual assaults, though she knew it was unlikely that Susie Graham’s case was connected. The perpetrator in the Mooney case liked successful career women, and Susie Graham didn’t fit that profile.

Thankfully, Hennessy’s mood shifted the more questions Kate asked, and he became a little more relaxed once she’d assured him O’Connor wasn’t involved. She remembered O’Connor telling her that he and Hennessy weren’t on the best of terms. In the interest of getting the information she wanted, she told Stuart Hennessy that O’Connor was unaware of her phone call, which was the truth. Once that was out of the way, he was happy enough to talk.

‘Stuart, will you talk me through it from the beginning?’

‘As you know, rules and structures are there for a reason. The
regulation rape kit was used. It’s our first point of evidence-gathering, and the initial link to identify the attacker. The tests were carried out at the Sexual Assault Treatment Unit in the Rotunda hospital. Susie Graham was examined there first. Medication was administered to help fight off any potential infection, and the standard follow-up appointments were made for blood-test results.’

‘Who carried out the SATU evaluation?’

‘Lucy Majors. She’s one of the principal SATU nurses at the unit. We work very closely together. Once the bloods are back, the unit will take it from there, and monitor any need for further psychological care. We’ll be keeping an eye on Susie to see how she’s coping.’

‘How is she now?’

‘It’s never easy, Dr Pearson, but as far as possible in these matters, our aim is to give the victim back a sense of control. SATU do an amazing job. Things have moved on from the old days. Nothing is done without explanation and permission. Susie Graham was under age, so the consent of the parent, the mother, was also sought.’

‘What did you get?’

‘The girl came to us within twenty-four hours. I know, Dr Pearson, you’re involved in the Rachel Mooney case, so you’ll be aware that up to seventy-two hours after the attack, sperm is still alive and can be found for as long as seven days after the incident, even if the victim has washed.’

‘Go on, Stuart.’

‘The victim hadn’t been licked or bitten but the bruising on her upper arms and the inside of her thighs was acute.’

‘And psychologically?’

‘It’s hard to tell the extent of damage right now. The girl was subdued, very vulnerable and nervous. I know some people believe that reliving the event mentally is another trauma, but I’ve worked with SATU for some time now, and it’s my firm belief that once a victim attends the unit, they’ve taken their first step, both physically and mentally, in the healing process.’