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Authors: Anna Sweeney

BOOK: Deadly Intent
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‘Oh, that's right, we got on like a house on fire all week – and why wouldn't we, considering we both came from the same part of the country?' A gleam of energy reappeared in Maureen's face. ‘You know the old saying, that it takes one to know one? Well, that was very true about myself and Oscar. You see, he was a man who knew how to get a kick out of life, unlike poor Dominic.'

‘I suppose Dominic was jealous of Oscar, then?'

‘Of course he was jealous, and who could blame him, but I told him to have sense and not to nag me about it.' Maureen met Sal's eyes and seemed to take encouragement from them. ‘I mean, I was doing very nicely having an admirer like Oscar Malden, but really, it was just a bit of sport – a little flirtation between friends, that's what I called it.' She stroked her wedding ring gently as she warmed to her account, her fingernails a deep purple-black that matched her hair. ‘It wasn't easy, though, because I realised that Oscar was just as jealous as my poor husband. So I tried to explain the situation to him in the hotel. It's not meant to be, I said to Oscar, but he didn't take it too well, I regret to say.'

‘And he left the hotel then, or what?'

‘Exactly. He walked out on me and I was worried that I'd hurt him, which I'd honestly hate to do to anyone. Live and let live, I always say.' Maureen glanced quickly at Sal and then Nessa, as if to check that they approved of her account. ‘So then I wanted to tell him that I was sorry, and I left a message on his mobile asking him to phone me back. But he never did.'

Maureen stared into space for a moment, and Nessa watched the door, hoping they would not be interrupted. She was so glad that Sal had agreed to come along, however reluctantly.

‘That's why I decided to follow Oscar, you see, so that he wouldn't think I was a heartless bitch. But I must have got lost on those little roads in the hills. My shoes got so tight that they cut into me, and I couldn't see a single signpost anywhere, or anybody to help me. I wish I could blot out that whole day, I really do. God help us, I never saw so many stones in my life, I felt they were coming alive on the hillsides and closing in on me from those ugly high walls along the byroads! Surely it would be better to get rid of the whole lot of them and build some neat little fences in their place?'

Sal laid her hand gently on Maureen's arm, to comfort her.

‘If only I could turn the clock back! But how could I know then what was in store for us?' Maureen gazed at Sal and spoke forcefully. ‘I have to tell you it scares the hell out of me, wondering what will happen to Dominic and how I'll manage when I leave this hospital.'

Sal held Maureen's hand, taken aback at the fear showing in the older woman's eyes. But after a few minutes, Maureen looked down again at her album and turned back a few pages. She seemed to have arrived at a new understanding.

‘I'll have to accept it sooner or later, won't I? The only explanation that makes sense is that he attacked me brutally because I refused to abandon my husband for his sake.'

‘Oscar attacked you?' Sal almost whispered it.

‘It's so hard for me to face up to it, that a man like him would be capable of it, but that's how it is. And then Dominic must have arrived on the scene and defended me in the only way he could.' Maureen smiled nervously. ‘It's an awful situation but maybe some good will come of it in the end. Why would I be afraid of anything, tell me, when I'm married to a man who was prepared to do that for my sake?'

Maureen lay back again and Sal leafed through the album, turning it towards her mother from time to time. Each photo was captioned carefully with the name and date of the newspaper in which it had appeared.

Nessa was preoccupied with what they had just heard. Even if Maureen was telling the truth, it was not enough to stand up in court without corroboration. She was clearly a very unreliable witness, and was also very unlikely to condemn her husband in front of judge and jury. But if Dominic thought she might do so, she had good reason to be scared. Nessa wondered whether the gardai were biding their time, awaiting Dominic's own confession.

‘Where's my bag?' said Maureen suddenly. ‘I hope those nurses haven't taken it away. They're so nosy, I've to hide everything from them.'

She rummaged under her pillows and among the bedclothes. She was agitated, like a child who had lost a favourite toy. ‘Has anyone seen my bag? I had it a while ago, I know I did.'

Nessa and Sal both stood up and scrutinised the mess around the bed. They found the bag under Sal's chair, and handed it to Maureen, who pulled a plastic bottle out of it. She opened it and sucked thirstily at the orange-coloured liquid it contained. ‘Oh yes, I promise you, Maureen will get the better of those nurses yet, with their silly rules. It's a free country, after all.'

Sal's hand was on her mouth as she watched her. Nessa kept her own eyes on the bedclothes, afraid her daughter was about to giggle. Clearly, Maureen was not savouring a fruit drink for the sake of its vitamins.

‘I'll tell you what worries me,' she said presently. She sat up and arranged the pillows to her satisfaction. ‘It's taking the gardai a long time to catch the person who killed poor Oscar Malden, that's what. I don't know what's going on, but I've passed on my suspicions about a few individuals.'

Nessa almost exclaimed aloud. Maureen seemed to have erased everything she had said five minutes earlier, and was off on a new tack, fortified by continuing sups from her bottle. The events of the past week were taking a heavier toll on her than Nessa had anticipated.

‘Look at Oscar's son, for example. Far too quiet if you ask me, and not a bit fond of his father, was he? It's the quiet ones you have to watch, that's a well-known fact.'

‘You mean Fergus? It's hard to imagine—'

‘Listen to me a minute, I saw how things were between the pair of them. We went on some trip or other, to Killarney I think it was, across those big scraggy mountains.' Maureen's eyes were brimming with enthusiasm again. ‘Myself and Oscar were trying to have a nice friendly chat as we walked along by the lake, but his son followed us every footstep, like a shadow. It was like something you'd see in a horror movie, the way he kept stalking us.'

‘But Fergus is the sort of person who wouldn't, like, kill a fly.'

‘Don't depend on it. Oscar told me he was very concerned about his son. He gave him every advantage money could buy, he said, and got no thanks for his trouble.'

‘But they came on holidays together, all the same?'

‘True enough, but I believe Oscar decided to go home early because they'd had a row.' Maureen took a final gulp before screwing the top back on her bottle. ‘Take it or leave it now, but that's my opinion of the matter.'

‘And what was your opinion of the others in the holiday group?' Sal asked the question while Maureen fussed with her bag, pushing the bottle under a pile of tissues.

‘The others? Well, I can't say they bothered me either way. I do my best to get on with people – rich or poor, old or young, they're all the same to me. Mind you, there was one young woman I didn't take to. She had one of those new names – Zelda, was it?'

‘I think you mean Zoe,' said Nessa. ‘And her sister's name is Stella.'

‘OK, Zoe then, if you say so. Well, I'd a pain in my ear listening to some of the ridiculous things she said. Do you remember that place we visited, the great big mansion with a view of the sea?'

‘You mean Bantry House? The weather was beautiful while we walked around the gardens.'

‘That's the one, and a fine place it is indeed. Well, we were all enjoying ourselves nicely until Zelda started pronouncing about the moneyed classes of Ireland, as she put it – which means anyone who ever made a decent few bob for themselves, like Oscar Malden or indeed myself. Her idea was that nobody should be allowed to get rich while we've poor people in the world. Honestly, as if that would work in a million years!'

‘What did you think of her sister Stella?' Nessa asked slowly. She was afraid that their visit had become undignified, but her curiosity was keeping her in the room.

‘I don't remember much about her, except that she was quiet. Too quiet, actually, just like the son, Fergus. Two of a kind, when you think of it, and my guess is that there was something going on there – eyes across the table and what have you. Yes indeed, it wouldn't surprise me one bit.'

‘Stella must be at least seven or eight years older than Fergus,' Sal interjected.

‘What's that got to do with it? I think he's the type of fellow who'd be led on by an older woman.' Maureen yawned conspicuously. ‘But God only knows, I'd a lot on my mind that week and it wasn't my business to worry about other people.'

She dropped her head back on the pillows and Nessa nodded to Sal that they would leave as soon as possible. But after a minute, Maureen sat bolt upright again and looked at Nessa as if she saw her properly for the first time. She opened her album and turned the pages urgently.

‘Oh, Christ almighty, I've just remembered what Dominic told me about you! You're the owner of the guesthouse, of course, and you're married to that foreigner, the dark suntanned one like this girl here.' She looked from Nessa to Sal and back to her album. ‘Dominic is going to kill me if he hears I let you in the door! I must be going gaga in this godawful hospital.' Her voice grew louder. ‘So just get out right now, will you? He told me how you attacked him and that he hasn't had a minute's peace from the gardai ever since.'

Nessa murmured some bland reply but Maureen turned her back to her, pulling the bedclothes over her shoulders.

‘I'll have a little sleep now and everything will settle down. Then Dominic will come in with another bottle of orange for me.' She seemed to be talking to herself. ‘And didn't he say he'd bring me a nice visitor today? A friend of his from the papers,who wants to help us, that's what he was on about.'

Nessa and Sal slipped out the door. Neither spoke a word until they were halfway down the main hospital stairs.

‘Oh my God, I
so
can't believe how sad she is!'

‘She's much worse than I'd imagined. And I'm sorry you got to see her like that, Sal, but I really appreciate that you came here with me.'

‘I thought she was OTT when she was with us at Cnoc Meala, but now she is seriously losing it. I thought I'd choke when I saw the album!'

Nessa put a protective hand on her daughter's back as she steered her towards the main door.‘It's frightening to see how the whole episode has affected her. She really can't handle it, and she needs somebody to look after her, poor woman.'

‘Do you believe what she told us about her conversation with Oscar down at the hotel? That he was heartbroken and jealous over her?'

‘I believed her, just about, while she was saying it, because she seemed so convinced of it herself.'

‘But it doesn't add up, does it? Oscar was hardly that utterly desperate, considering he'd women all over the country panting to get into bed with him.'

‘Maybe he led her along, all the same, and Maureen added on her own fantasies,' said Nessa. She took a deep breath as they stepped outdoors. ‘What took me aback most, though, was how she changed her story completely, as if she'd said nothing at all about Dominic being guilty.'

‘Yeah, and then blaming Fergus instead.'

Nessa paused as she tried to straighten her thoughts. ‘Well, what I'm wondering now is whether she realised that she'd said too much about Dominic, and wanted to send us off in a different direction? She could be more manipulative than we've given her credit for.'

‘She's a total drama queen, no question. But I can't believe she's capable of acting a part from beginning to end?'

‘Maybe not. But if she did let a bit of the truth slip out early on, she might have decided to cover it up by acting as if she'd lost her marbles?'

‘I don't think she can tell the difference between truth and lies, Mam. Can you just imagine being some poor garda sap, taking down reams of interview notes from her and trying to make sense of them?'

FIFTEEN
Saturday 26 September, 11.10 a.m.

D
ominic stood at the bar and ordered a drink. The place was quiet, as most of Cork's Saturday shoppers had not yet earned a break from their labours. Two men dressed in dark suits came in from the street, and nodded to each other when they saw Dominic.

In the mirror along the back of the bar, his eye caught their movement. He spoke hurriedly to the barman, took another quick look in the mirror and walked off. He almost knocked over a low stool in his haste to reach the double doors at the end of the bar, which led further into the hotel.

‘So what's burning your heels then, you blaggard?' Conor Fitzmaurice muttered curses under his breath while he and Redmond Joyce followed Dominic through the inner doors. They found themselves in a wide corridor, adorned with small windows in which local craft and cosmetic products were displayed for the benefit of tourists. They spotted Dominic heading for the main stairway at the end of the corridor, and the lifts to the upper floors of the hotel.

Sergeant Fitzmaurice called out to Dominic just as a group of people exited one of the two lifts, laughing boisterously. It took a few minutes for the gardai to get past the group, by which time the lift door had shut and their quarry had eluded them.

Redmond signalled that he would take the stairs while Conor awaited the second lift. They had glimpsed Dominic pressing the up button, but there was no sign of him at the first- or second-floor landings, and Redmond was almost out of breath as he paused at the next set of stairs. As well as several floors of bedrooms, he remembered that the hotel had a basement car park. There was nothing to stop Dominic changing course midway, and driving off into the city streets in his car.

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