The Rule Book (22 page)

‘Sometimes I have to,’ Brady conceded. ‘Usually I get a lift. There’s no other way of getting to Trim.’

‘You could have got a bus,’ McEvoy offered.

‘The bus takes forever. I’d have spent all day travelling. I went to the meeting and I came back again. That’s it. Your man picked me up the moment I parked the car.’

‘And you went via Rathmoylan?’

‘Rathmoylan?’ Brady repeated cautiously.

‘It’s a small place near to Trim,’ McEvoy offered.

Brady tipped his head back, stared at the ceiling, gently shaking his head.

‘You drove yourself because you needed the freedom to move as you pleased.’

Brady lowered his face, his eyes coming to rest on the table again. ‘I drove as I had no other way of getting there. Okay, I admit I came back via Rathmoylan. So what? I was visiting a family friend. I try and look in on him when I can. He’s ill; got rheumatoid arthritis. He’s the father of a friend from school. I’m on a rota to visit him; see how he’s getting on.’

‘Billy Mullins,’ McEvoy stated.

‘Yeah, Billy.’ Brady raised his eyes, the penny seeming to finally drop into place. ‘Oh sweet Jesus, not Billy. Why would anyone want to kill Billy?’

‘For God’s sake, Dermot,’ McEvoy rolled his eyes, ‘don’t try and act all surprised. You’re crap at it. He’s been dead a couple of hours and you killed him. You burnt him alive! Burnt the whole house down! Decided to add him to your list of victims along with Laura Schmidt, David Hennessey and Grainne Malone.’

‘He was alive when I left him. I swear,’ Brady pleaded. ‘I just made him some lunch, had a chat and then drove back to Dublin. That was it. I didn’t kill him. I didn’t kill any of them. Why would I do such an evil thing? You’ve got it all wrong, Superintendent. I didn’t kill any of them.’

McEvoy leant forward and held Brady’s eye. ‘We have you located at three of the murder scenes. You were out at Glencree, one of your hairs was found on Hennessey’s body, and you were at Billy Mullins’ house at the time he died. You can do as much playacting as you like, but we know you’re the so-called Raven, Dermot – all those stupid cards and notes, trying to camouflage what you were up to. It was pathetic. You might have killed four people, thought you were a class act, but you’re still an amateur. It was only timing that gave you an edge.’

‘No, no, no, no. You’ve got this all wrong. I’ve been set up. I haven’t killed anyone. Anyone,’ he stressed. ‘I’ve done my time and I learnt my lesson.’

‘You really expect me to believe that?’ McEvoy asked. ‘You’re a professional liar, Dermot! You deluded yourself you could get away with it. Tried to delude us with your games, but now you’re going to pay the price.’

‘I didn’t kill them!’ Brady said angrily. ‘I’m being framed. This is … this is stupid.’

‘You’ve just told me that you were in Rathmoylan,’ McEvoy said evenly. ‘You had to because there’re too many people who knew you were there. Now you want me to believe that your trip there was entirely innocent despite the fact that you were also where the other victims were killed. There is coincidence and then there is pattern. These are no coincidences.’

‘I was only at Glencree! I was a leader on the trip there. Of course I was there! I haven’t been to Maynooth or the Phoenix Park in ages. Somebody is setting me up. I’m telling you, I’m innocent.’

‘They found one of your hairs stuck in the paint on David Hennessey’s leg, Dermot. You weren’t as careful as you thought you were when you were playing your game. You were there and the only person there before us was the killer.’

‘Somebody must have planted it to make it look like I was there. David Hennessey is, I mean was, a friend. He helped me out when I was in trouble. Why would I kill him?’

‘I’ve no idea, Dermot. Why would you kill him?’

‘I didn’t kill him! Look,’ Brady said more calmly, trying to gather his panic, ‘I didn’t kill any of them. I’m being framed. Can’t you see that? Somebody is trying to frame me.’

McEvoy clicked off the recording of his conversation with Charlie Deegan. ‘Well?’

‘Well, it seems as if DI Deegan is in hot water,’ Bishop replied neutrally.

‘His suspension stands?’ McEvoy asked, wary at Bishop’s reaction.

‘Leave Charlie Deegan to me, Colm; that’s my territory.’

‘But he’s off the case, right?’ McEvoy asked, seeking at least some confirmation, some reassurance.

‘His conduct will be subject to a full review.’

‘You’re not suspending him?’ McEvoy asked, disbelief in his voice.

‘I didn’t say that,’ Bishop said evenly.

‘So you are then?’

‘I’m going to review his conduct.’ It seemed that Tony Bishop was wary of Charlie Deegan’s network of friends in high places. ‘For now I suggest that Padraig O’Keeffe takes over the Hennessey part of the investigation. He’s familiar with it and he knows what he’s doing. I think you should go home and get some rest. The last couple of days have been pretty intense. How much sleep have you had in the last 36 hours? Two or three?’

‘I need to re-interview Brady now that his legal representative has arrived,’ McEvoy said, quickly forgetting about Charlie Deegan.

‘You need some rest and sleep; some time to mull things over, reflect on the case, put it all together in your mind. What I’m saying is, you can stop worrying now; you’ve caught him. It’s over. It’s just dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s. He thought he was being clever with his cards and chapters; thought he could beat forensics. You can’t kill four people in four days and not expect to mess up somewhere along the way. He’s got his comeuppance. They’re going to throw away the key when they sentence him.

‘Let Barney Plunkett, Jenny Flanagan and Johnny Cronin have a go at him, pick apart his story. Besides it would also give the crime scene people more time to go through his apartment, give you more ammunition to throw at him. You can start interviewing him again in the morning. Pull what all the others have done together and hit him with new stuff. If you’re looking for something to do, go and get a decent dinner and buy a new suit.’

‘But …’

‘No buts, Colm,’ Bishop interrupted, his neck starting to rise red with irritation. ‘Go home, spend time with your daughter, and try and relax. You’ve done a good job. Let everyone else do theirs.’

‘I …’ McEvoy gave up. ‘I guess I’d better go then.’ His exhaustion had suddenly caught up with him; the energy that had kept him going over the last four days suddenly dissipating. He wanted to feel elated; instead he just felt a deep melancholy.

‘Colm, it’s Elaine.’

‘How’s it going?’ McEvoy asked, placing a bag of groceries on the table.

‘I’ve had better weeks. I hear you’ve caught The Raven.’

‘Yeah. Sorry, Elaine, just give me a second.’ McEvoy placed his hand over the phone and spoke to Gemma who had trailed in after him. ‘Just give me two minutes, will you?’ he asked her. ‘I just need to take this call. I’ll put the kettle on.’

‘Whatever.’ Gemma placed a second bag on the table and headed back to the kitchen door. ‘I’ll be watching TV.’ She pulled the door closed behind her.

McEvoy lifted his hand. ‘Sorry about that, Elaine. We have someone in for questioning. He works for Dublin Homeless Co-operative. He was out at Glencree and was friends with David Hennessey and Billy Mullins.’ He started to empty the contents of the bags onto the table.

‘Well, at least my week might get better then. Might even get time to catch up on the paperwork. If I’m really lucky I might even get time on the boat, though it won’t be much fun unless the weather picks up. Look,’ she said, shifting tone, ‘I’m ringing as I’ve just finished the autopsy and I thought you’d want a summary report. Billy Mullins died of asphyxiation caused by smoke inhalation. If that hadn’t killed him then he might not have lasted much longer in any case. Somebody had hit him hard on the head a couple of times. He had quite severe internal haemorrhaging. Probably hit with a hammer given the concentrated nature of the fracture. It’s difficult to say much else given the extent of the burning. With his rheumatoid arthritis and general poor health he was probably a sitting target; unable to get away or defend himself.’

‘He didn’t put up a fight?’ McEvoy asked.

‘From the placement of the blows I’d say he was hit from the side. I think the killer surprised him. Came through the door and attacked him before he knew what was happening. Knocked him unconscious and then set fire to the house.’

‘The poor bastard.’ McEvoy opened a cupboard and placed two tins of tomatoes on a shelf.

‘At least it’s going to stop now, now you’ve caught him. I’ll make sure you get the full report, Colm. I’ll talk to you in the next couple of days, okay?’

‘Yeah, thanks, Elaine.’ McEvoy ended the call.

With the exception of Laura Schmidt, Dermot Brady hadn’t taken any chances. He’d killed his victims before they’d had time to react – sent them to oblivion with a casual ease.

McEvoy poured water from a filter jug into the kettle, turned it on, and finished unpacking the shopping. He couldn’t believe that he had so badly misread Brady in that first interview, or that he hadn’t adequately acted on his subsequent suspicions.

Gemma forked the last of the curried chicken into her mouth.

McEvoy watched her drop the cutlery onto her plate, a satisfied smile on her face. He took a sip of his Rioja and scratched at his head. He resisted the temptation to fish his plastic substitute from his pocket. ‘I’m going to come clean,’ he said guiltily. ‘I haven’t had chance to get you a birthday present. I was meaning to, but, you know, the last few days have been … well, hectic. I’m sorry. The best I can offer is we go shopping tomorrow evening and I’ll buy you something you want.’ He paused, wanting the earth to swallow him up. Despite everything he should have at least got something. How long would it have taken him to buy a card and a box of chocolates? ‘Maybe you could bring a couple of friends along and we could go to McDonalds or the cinema?’ he offered. ‘Your nana and granddad will be here, they could come as well. They’re travelling down tomorrow morning.’

‘McDonalds?’ Gemma replied, disgust in her voice. ‘McDonalds
is for kids. We could go to the Chinese.’

‘Okay, we’ll go to the Chinese,’ McEvoy conceded. A couple of years ago and it would have been mayhem if they hadn’t gone to McDonalds. He shook his head, thinking about how fast she’d changed in just a short space of time. Maybe he could nip to a late-night petrol station later and get a card.

Gemma started to push herself off the chair. ‘I’ll go and call Aine and Katie and Sarah and Susan and …’

‘Whoa, whoa,’ McEvoy interrupted instinctively. ‘A limit of three, okay? It’s not a school outing.’ He was feeling guilty but he wasn’t a mug.

‘But everyone else has a big party,’ Gemma moaned.

‘We’re not everyone else, are we?’ God, he was beginning to sound like Maggie. A couple of years ago he’d have been all on for the party. Mind you, a couple of years ago he wouldn’t have been organising it. ‘It’s an exclusive party, selected invitees only,’ he added. ‘How’s that sound?’

‘And we can go to the cinema as well?’ Gemma bargained.

‘And we can go to the cinema as well,’ McEvoy repeated.

‘Deal,’ Gemma intoned, heading for the door, seemingly happy that she had got what she wanted.

‘I’m going to see your mother in a minute,’ McEvoy said to her retreating back, wondering how much the following evening was going to cost him. ‘Do you want to come?’

‘Just give me five minutes. I need to make some calls.’