Unfaithful (40 page)

“
I don't want to accuse anyone wrongly, especially when that is precisely what has been done to me,” Mark replied indignantly.

“
Maybe it was your own son, Christopher?”

“I'm sure he
wasn't too impressed when he found out about your numerous affairs.”

The detectives were testing him to gauge his reactions but he didn't take the bait.

“My son would never do anything to hurt anyone!” Mark replied angrily. “It has to have been Henry Whitington-Smyth.”

The police tried to make some headway during their hours of interviews but Mark didn't budge.

“What happened to the emails between you and Henry?”

“I don't know,” Mark shrugged nonchalantly. “I know my emails were hacked.”

“I suppose the emails between you and the mystery blackmailer were hacked too?” Detective Leary couldn't help the sarcastic tone creeping into his voice.

“
That's the only explanation that makes sense to me. If you don't believe me you should contact my email provider.”

“
Don't you think it's peculiar that the emails sent to “devils-revenge” have survived but your lengthy correspondence with Henry, which you claim lasted for many months, has disappeared without a trace?”

“
It must have been the Irish accomplice, someone who had access to the computer at M&R Photography.”

“Who might that have been?”
Detective Leary asked bluntly.

“
I can't say. There's no way that I'm going to put an innocent person in the same position as me. All I know is that there must be someone out there trying to set me up.”

He went on to berate Detective Leary for putting him through t
he embarrassment of an arrest. “I have nothing to hide. I would have been completely happy to have come in under my own steam.”

“It’s the
procedure in an official investigation that suspects be arrested and detained.”

“
I have my reputation to think of.”

Dete
ctive Leary stared at him. “From everything I've heard your reputation wasn't in great shape before we arrested you.” He couldn't resist the jibe at Mark. The other man's smug disposition was starting to grate on his nerves. Mark had the good grace not to respond. Detective Leary hadn't liked Mark from the start of the investigation. There was something about him that irritated him and he was fairly certain that the man was guilty. However the detective was an honourable man and he was determined that every bit of evidence would be examined, no matter how exhausting.

Slowly but surely a damning picture was beginning to emerge. The police found that not only were there phone calls which neatly fitted with the ti
ming suggested in the emails between “devils-revenge” and “assassin_hire” but another pattern was slowly forming. The emails already seemed to suggest that whoever had been emailing “assassin_hire” had not only been following Mark's movements and possessed an intimate knowledge of his life, but also was actually travelling with him. The phone records perfectly substantiated the theory. The calls also suggested a closer relationship with the blackmailer than Mark had suggested. There were calls which lasted for almost half an hour at a time, more than long enough to explain the flirtatious relationship in the emails. The police were starting to think that not only was Mark their culprit but he was the only person who could have possibly made all the calls.

Mark was feeling the strain of the mountain of evidence that was building against him so made one last passionate plea to the Director of Public Prosecution's to have the case dropped.

“It will cost those I love far too dearly,” he wrote. “I'm worried about my wife. She’s only just beginning to recover from the post-natal depression which has plagued her for months and I'm worried about the amount of stress this situation is causing her. She's taking my predicament very badly. How can you be so cruel as to put an innocent woman through this terrible ordeal? The situation is putting me under so much strain that I've even considered suicide. If you go ahead with these charges you'll be responsible for at least two deaths. Surely no criminal conviction is worth such a high cost in human life.”

Of course, the
Director never entertained such dubious correspondence and immediately saw straight through it as nothing more than an ill-conceived attempt to stop the investigation. It was obvious that Mark's pleas were in vain because he was arrested again and brought before the courts where he was charged with conspiracy to murder and with soliciting Savannah Kingston to murder Penelope Garrett, Shona Morgan and Rebecca McNamara.

Savannah Kingston was also charged with conspiring to kill the three women and had to face additional charges of demanding the money with menaces from Penelope Garrett, robbing the office of M&R Photography and handling stolen goods.

However, Savannah's barrister complained that his client had been locked up in jail since her original arrest and the incarceration had not been easy for her. He argued that it was unfair to keep her incarcerated while Mark had only been recently arrested. He warned the judge that his client was becoming withdrawn and depressed and that her health was deteriorating alarmingly. She had diabetes and her condition wasn't being helped by her stint in prison. He demanded that his client's rights should be recognised and that she be released as soon as possible. However, Savannah remained in prison while the Book of Evidence was assembled.

Chapter 10

It was a bright summer’s morning in the vibrant tourist town of Westport, County Mayo. There wasn't a cloud in the clear blue sky and the sea was calm and still. The summer season was in full swing and the tourists who sat outside the pleasant cafes which dotted the sea front were in buoyant mood. Most people enjoying their early morning coffee were utterly oblivious to the fact that the latest sitting of the town's District Court was about to take place. Westport's District Court was in session only six times a year and the court list was usually short; generally lasting no more than a few hours. Offences mainly consisted of public order cases, road traffic charges and the occasional licensing dispute.

However, this
was no ordinary day in Westport. Police cars already clogged the streets around the tiny, slightly dilapidated courthouse, and inside, the seats were already full of eager spectators. Television crews and photographers were in place, anxious to be at the forefront of the unfolding action.

This was the morning that police had been
anxiously awaiting. An extensive and complex investigation had at long last brought charges of conspiracy to murder against businessman Mark McNamara and nightclub hostess, Savannah Kingston; a very unlikely pair!

A noisy posse of photographers and journalists had gathered around the courtho
use; all waiting impatiently for the arrival of Mark and Savannah. The previous afternoon Savannah had been due to go on trial charged with extortion and burglary, but the charges were dropped by the prosecution. She was released and immediately arrested again, charged with conspiracy to murder. It was this sudden change in events which caught the attention of the media.

The arrival of Mar
k and Savannah at the courthouse sparked a flurry of excitement among the waiting photographers and television crews. Savannah entered the courtroom, neatly dressed in a knee-length skirt and matching tailored jacket. Her face was pale and tear-streaked and devoid of any makeup. Penelope and Shona stared at the petite blonde woman, amazed that this apparently meek woman could be involved in a devious murder plot.

Mark sat opposite her, flanked by two police officers. He wore a dark suit and tie with a blue shirt which emphasised his tanned skin. He glanced at Savannah and muttered under his breath. Rebecca watched her husband
carefully. She knew he was a lot of things but she still found it difficult to believe he wanted her dead. There was no way he would want his children to be without their mother and he'd done everything possible to gain her forgiveness for his affairs. She didn't know how she would have coped without him when post-natal depression had taken its dark grip on her. There was a time when she'd thought they might even be friends! How could the man who she'd loved for so long have turned into such a monster? It was mind-boggling.

Rebecca remembered the many happy times
they'd shared in Westport throughout the years. They'd spent lots of weekends socialising in the town and had enjoyed sailing on Westport Bay with Christopher when he was a small boy. She didn't want to believe the allegations against her husband. He had always enjoyed the high life but was he really willing to go to such extreme lengths for money? It was only one of the many intriguing questions which Rebecca would ask herself over the following weeks of the gripping trial.

Mark denied the charges brought against him while Savannah had nothing to say in response to the charges brought against her. Both accused were remanded in custody but Mark’s lawyer said he would be applying to the High Court for bail at the earliest opportunity.

No sooner had Mark and Savannah left Westport on their way to prison than news spread like wildfire of the sensational story. The gossips quickly turned the story from fairy tale to local legend. Rumours crept like mould in the damp humidity of the summer, the wettest for many years. However, when the media descended they were met with polite smiles and stone walls. Westport was too small a place to share gossip without having one eye open to see who was listening.

Prosperity may be apparent in
some of the narrow twisting streets left over from medieval times but the population of Westport is still only six thousand, many of them immigrants who have flocked there over the years. There are those who mutter darkly about the town becoming more cosmopolitan, who cling to the old Westport where decades were needed before an interloper from the next parish became one of their own. But the story that had hit the headlines did not concern any recent arrival. Rebecca and Mark were well-know and popular in the community and their story was received with a mixture of embarrassment and shock. A few people rubbed their hands over the juicy scandal but most shook their heads in wonder.

For all of its new-found multi
culturalism not much had changed in Westport over the boom years. The big supermarkets had only opened in the last few years and greengrocers still thrived among the narrow streets while the regular market stalls on the main street were still going strong. The pubs sported wood-panelling and old Guinness signs with floors of flag stones or tattered red carpets.

Westport was
clearly feeling the failing fortunes of a flagging economy, although the tourists still streamed into town. The maze of streets hid the numerous for sale signs and there was consternation when several well-established businesses failed, but the boutique clothes shops remained. They catered for the ladies who lunch and there were many lunching in Westport. Several shops had dresses which sold for thousands of euro. They were not the shops that feared closure as the penny-pinching began; their patrons who didn’t need to worry about where the next pay cheque was coming from.

Mark enjoyed a powerful social standing which he enjoyed flaunting and there were many who had stories about his lord of the manor attitude.
The locals knew Mark enjoyed the high life but few could comprehend what had happened in court that morning. Nobody wanted to believe the allegations against him. Many of the questions asked around the town that summer’s day would present shocking answers in the weeks of the fascinating trial which would take place in Dublin’s Four Courts; the highest court in Ireland.

Chapter 11

Finally, the much awaited opening day of the trial arrived. It was the final showdown. Mark's letters and pleas had fallen on deaf ears and the only thing left for him to do was try to charm the jury. The airless courtroom was packed with lawyers, police, the accused and the general public with members of the media pushing forward, straining to hear what was going on. Hoards of barristers had gathered for the day to day business of the courts, ensuring that every legal detail had been dealt with before the case came before the judge and jury.

The wooden benches were packed with the rather be
mused jury panel who were staring at the organised chaos which was exploding around them. Most were there unwillingly and were waiting impatiently for their chance to explain to the judge why they couldn't perform their civic duty. Others were glancing around anxiously, trying to spot the accused people among the crowd. Some were trying to guess at the story they would watch unfolding in front of them. They chatted amongst each other, attempting to work out if any of the stories which they'd read in the newspapers would be presented for their entertainment. “Jury service may be an important part of the justice system but I have better things to do than waste my time watching something boring,” one woman sighed.

Several people glanced in Mark's direction. He cut quite a dashing character in his dark suit and could easily have been mistaken for one of the lawyers. Savannah was a petite blonde presence who sat smiling easily while her lawyer stood a short distance away
, deep in last minute discussions with the rest of the legal team. The jurors surveying the courtroom, trying to ascertain the accused parties, didn't even notice her. A few reporters who were gathered glanced curiously in Mark's direction but the case had barely registered in the media's consciousness. The newsrooms were slow to get excited about a conspiracy which had failed to lead to murder.