The Gamal (48 page)

—Yeah.

—Well she looked out for him. Along with James Kent. They were very good to him you know. Involved him when others would have left him behind.

—Yeah.

Next thing my bleddy father started sobbing like a girlygirl again.

—It’s OK John.

—Jesus Christ ’tis all so sad, the father wept.

—Will you call that doctor so John?

—I will.

—I’m going to head back in if you don’t mind.

—Of course.

—Sorry for the interruption again.

My mother nodded that ’twas fine. He came over and knelt in front of me.

—You’ll be OK Charlie. You’re after getting an awful shock.

He’d his big strong shovel of a hand on my shoulder, then he patted my head. Well not patted really. He leaned in close so that his forehead touched mine. He worked his fingers right into my scalp, saying ‘You’ll be all right Charlie. You’ll be all right.’ He was checking to see if I’d had a shower cos he took a sniff of my fucking hair to see if ’twas washed as well, before slapping me softly on the cheek and saying,

—You’ll be all right Charlie. You’ll be OK. I’ll call into you again soon. Look into my eyes Charlie . . . Yeah, the pupils, he’s in a fair bit of shock I’d say. You better ring the doctor right away John.

—OK.

—I’ll be leaving ye so. There’s been no formal identification yet but half the parish were below around so ye needn’t be telling anyone I called because they’ll only be thinking Charlie did it. I just didn’t want ye finding out over at Mass. Sinéad’s family have been told obviously. The body is still at the scene while the forensics are finishing. Goodbye for now, and again, I’m very sorry to be the bearer of such news.

—Goodbye and thanks Tony.

—Bye, my mother said too.

The door closed and opened a sec later.

—Sorry again, there was just the one question. Margaret if you could just for one second.

My mother went out to him as she was asked to. This time he left the door open and watched me when he was talking.

—Do you know what time Charlie came in last night? The mother went thinking for a minute. She bit the fingernail of her small finger.

—’Twas about half twelve I’d say. Maybe before it. I was still up watching telly.

—What were you watching?

—Ahm . . . oh . . .
Columbo
.

—Was it any good?

—Yeah . . . not bad.

—What channel was it on?

—Ahm . . . BBC I think.

—Grand. One other little thing. Was Charlie wearing those clothes last night?

She looked in at me.

—Why do you ask? Yes. The shirt anyway cos I ironed it for him. I made him wear it to be respectable-looking. He’d go out in his work clothes if you let him.

—And the shoes and the jeans?

—I don’t know, you’d have to ask himself.

—He can’t talk.

—Well I don’t know. Well they’re the only shoes he has so yes he’d have worn them I suppose yes. The only other things he has are his work boots.

—Can I see them?

My father interjected then.

—Jesus Christ Tony.

—I’d like to be able to eliminate your son as soon as possible because people are talking.

—Let them talk. What if I don’t show you the boots?

—I’d just put that in my report. But you don’t have to show them to me. I’ve no warrant or anything to search or take property or anything like that at this stage.

—Well Tony, with all due respect, listen to me now. That boy in there adored that girl. Adored her. And by Christ he’d never let harm come to her, let alone hurt her himself.

—Let me see the boots so John.

My father stormed off to the utility room and came back with my filthy work boots and my runners which were clean.

—Now. They’re his boots. They’re his runners. He’s wearing his shoes.

Detective Crowley opened the front door.

—Throw them down there on the footpath.

My father did. The detective took a quick look.

—Have you any work boots yourself? Or runners?

—I’ve Wellingtons. And runners yeah.

—Get them John if you wouldn’t mind.

—Jesus Christ Tony I can’t believe this.

—A quick look is all I want.

I could see my mother hugging herself and looking at the ground scared. Then she came in and sat by myself. My father came back with his runners and Wellington boots and dropped them on the footpath with the others. Detective Crowley picked up one welly and one runner and said, ‘They’re fine. None of that earth is fresh.’ With that he turned and walked straight back into the house.

—Just want to see how Charlie is. It’s possible he’d come out of it fairly quick.

My father followed him back in. Getting agitated my father was now.

—How is he now? Any change?

—He’s pretty much the same I’d say.

—There are several different types of shock. Did ye ring the doctor yet?

—No.

—Do it now sure.

—My mother went out to the hall to ring.

Detective Crowley stood and faced my father telling him some big long yarn about how he’d come across the type of shock I was in loads of times. ‘Can happen to victims, culprits and witnesses,’ he said, ‘Or close friends or relatives of the victim on hearing the bad news.’ He kept talking and his eyes glued to me.

—I remember one time, when I was working in Dublin there was a lad about the same age as Charlie and he killed his girlfriend in some mad fit of jealous rage. The first words he spoke was, ‘Thank you,’ and that was to the judge who’d just sentenced him to twenty-five to life in the court case which was over two years after the crime. Can be a serious thing, this type of shock. Post-traumatic shock they call it. I think Charlie’s is just standard shock though. You can die from it you know. The reduced blood flow. I think Charlie is OK. He might faint is the only thing. If ’twas medically serious he’d have palpitations or his lips would go blue. It’s just a psychological shock. But that can present its own difficulties. The doctor will be filling you in. Tell the doctor if he’s on any medication or anything. Is he generally on medication no?

—No. Nothing.

—No anti-depressants ever or anything like that?

—No. Nothing like that ever no.

—OK. I better be off. I hope you won’t take all the old questions personally John.

—Ah sure . . .

—It’s business John. It’s only business.

My mother came back in then.

—Doctor Reid will be here in a few minutes.

—Will she? That’s good. Stay with him and keep him warm. Don’t give him anything to eat or drink. The doctor might send him up to the hospital you know. I was just saying to John, Margaret that I’m sorry about all the old questions. I just want to get Charlie out of the loop as quick as possible because his name is only being bandied about unjustly.

—OK Tony.

—Take care for now.

—Bye.

He was finally ready to go now, not because he’d needed to say all that stuff, but because his partner was finished taking samples of earth from the assorted footwear outside on the footpath unknown to my poor good ignorant parents. Maybe this young detective they had working with Detective Crowley wasn’t such a fool after all. Crowley knew I could see his partner’s handiwork from where I stared out the window in a trance. His green X-ray eyes watched me like a fucking hawk while he spun my father the spiel about shock to bide his partner time to fill the evidence bags with the little bits of earth from the boots and wellies and runners. You couldn’t be up to them.

—Goodbye and God bless, said Detective Crowley, and he turned to face my parents one last time, ‘ ’Tis an awful business surely,’ he said.

More of Dinky’s Evidence

—So you left The Snug, the bar, at approximately 2:30 a.m., is that so?

—I think so, yes.

—You had been talking to Sinéad for much of the night and you got her coat for her as you were leaving, is that correct?

—Yes.

—Did she ask you to do it?

—No, I don’t think so, but I knew what it looked like and when I got mine I got hers too.

—I see. And was she waiting for you?

—No. I think she’d gone to the bathroom so I waited for her.

—Were you waiting on your own?

—Yes.

—I see. And did she ask you to walk her home?

—Yes.

—Can you remember her exact words?

—I think she said, ‘Will you walk with me?’

—I see. And tell me what happened when you reached the gate of her house?

—She kept walking.

—To where?

—Past it. I said nothing, I just walked with her.

—Did you feel at this point that you might have an opportunity to kiss her?

—Ahm . . . I don’t think so, no. We were getting on well like, just talking about old times and James and stuff. And like the future and stuff, she was telling me she was planning on trying to get a place of her own in Ballyronan and I was telling her about my plans to build a house too.

—I see. And you walked down along Pontoon road, is that correct?

—Yes.

—And at what point did you leave the road?

—Well, she walked into the woods and I walked with her.

—Were you surprised by this?

—Not really. It was a nice night and we were having a nice talk.

—So where did you both end up?

—Down by the river. On the bank near the bridge. She sat down first and then I did. She cried a little then and I put my arm around her.

—Did you try and kiss her?

—No, she kissed me.

—She was crying and she kissed you? Is that what you’re saying?

—Pretty much.

—Pretty much? Yes or no?

—Yes.

—And what happened then?

—She took off her blouse and her bra.

—Really?

—Yes.

—And then?

—We had sex.

—Where exactly?

—On the river bank.

—Was it consensual?

—Yes. Totally.

—In your statement to the gardaí you said it was all over quite quickly and that it was, and I quote, ‘gentle’. Could you explain what you meant by ‘gentle’?

—Ahm . . . that was a lie. I didn’t want them to think there was any force involved because I knew Sinéad was dead and that I was under suspicion.

—And now that so much of your blood and skin was found under the victim’s fingernails, you have changed your story to what?

—Objection, Your Lordship.

—Sustained. Ask specific questions please.

—Very well, Your Lordship. Tell me. How do you explain so much of your skin and blood being found under Sinéad Halloran’s fingernails?

—She was scrawling me very hard during sex.

—What parts of you?

—My chest and neck and face.

—Did you think this was strange?

—Yes.

—Was it painful?

—Yes, but it was just passion, I thought.

—Did it ever cross your mind that Sinéad didn’t want to have sex with you?

—No.

—I put it to you now that you raped her. And afterwards, realising what you’d done you knelt on top of her and strangled her.

—I didn’t.

—How then, were your fingerprints and palm prints all over the torc necklace of the victim that was found at the scene?

—Because she asked me to take it off her.

—Why wouldn’t she just take it off herself?

—I don’t know.

—Despite all this evidence you still deny that you raped and murdered Sinéad Halloran, is that so?

—Yes.

—You seem very calm, Mr Hennebry. If I was wrongfully accused of something I don’t think I’d be so calm.

—Objection, Your Lordship, totally irrelevant.

—Sustained. Please stick to the facts only in my court.

—Very well, Your Lordship. Is it true that when the gardaí interviewed you first, that they found that you were wearing make-up on the cuts you had on your face and neck?

—Yes.

—Where did you get the make-up?

—My mother’s room.

—Why did you want to wear make-up, though? I don’t understand. Wouldn’t an antiseptic cream be more useful?

Dinky’s voice started to go all shaky now.

—I did it to cover up the scratches.