The Silent Dead (Paula Maguire 3) (18 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

‘Right, everyone. Now Kenny has gone, I can’t stress enough how much pressure we’re under to solve this. I’m afraid we’re looking at overtime for the foreseeable future. Let’s review what we know.’

Fiacra was squinting as Guy spoke, trying to piece together the clues. Paula’s own head hurt. Guy was scribbling things on the whiteboard – he’d learned this in some management class and insisted on it, even though the rest took the piss behind his back.

‘So we have Dominic Martin’s van, the clues leading to the families . . . the notebook and so on, and the fact there was obviously some important occurrence at the end of March, when John Lenehan stepped down. From what the Walshes say, it’s possible Kenny and the families were working together – however far-fetched that seems.’

‘And Flaherty knew he was going somewhere,’ Paula said. ‘He may not have known where, or when . . . but he said goodbye to his daughter.’

Guy nodded. ‘Right. Corry wants us to go back to Flaherty’s house to see if we can find any clues about why he wasn’t in the van with the Walshes. He was definitely in the caves, we found his DNA. So why did they not pick him up with the others? And how did he know to change his will before he disappeared?’

‘But none of the others knew they were going,’ Gerard said. ‘Except for that text of Ni Chonnaill’s – but it mightn’t of been her, of course.’

‘I think someone knew she had children and wanted to make sure they were all right, even though they were kidnapping their mother.’ Paula tried to work it out. ‘I wish we knew who fathered her third child. If you remember the court testimony, Lynch called her a whore a few times – maybe she cheated on him while they were together. If we knew it might give us a lead.’

‘How’d we know who to test, though?’ said Fiacra grouchily. ‘Do you not, like, need the fella’s DNA to prove it?’

This conversation was the last one she wanted to be having right now. ‘Yes. But perhaps we could screen any men she knew, work colleagues and so on, her former boyfriends. Someone will have an idea.’

‘That’ll be more work for me, I suppose,’ Gerard grumbled. ‘Seeing as you can hardly drag yourself round the office, let alone out on interviews.’

Guy shot him a look. ‘I’ll see about getting you some back-up, DC Monaghan.’ His eyes lingered on Fiacra, then he seemed to think better of it. There was Bob, of course, but he was suspended and could hardly be sent to interview Republican families. That was the hard part of Guy’s job, skipping over the tripwires of religion, politics, and the grim, looming past. An outsider, he did it with aplomb – one of the many things she admired about him. ‘Anything else?’ He held his pen poised near the whiteboard. The surface had become a tangle of clues and connections, nothing making any sense. ‘We need some new angles, and fast. I’m having to justify our work on this to the Chief Constable, and so far I’ve got nothing to say.’

Paula heard herself say, ‘The best thing to do would be to keep on looking. Bring in aerial search teams if we have to. The others have to be somewhere, if they’re still alive.’ Searching was expensive, and often fruitless, but it was either that or go back to interrogating people who’d had their hearts torn right out of them, and she just didn’t think she could do that any more.

Luckily, at that point, Avril stuck her head into the room. ‘Everyone, you’re wanted up the hill. DCI Corry has Dominic Martin under arrest. They’ve matched samples from his shoes to the mineral from the caves, and they’ve lifted Lily Sloane for questioning too.’

Even in the unflattering lighting of Ballyterrin police station, Lily Sloane was beautiful, her skin luminous, her hair shining under the fluorescents. She was wearing jeans and Uggs and chewing on a fingernail. She looked up when Gerard and Paula went in – Corry had decided it was best to continue the rapport they’d supposedly built up, even though last time this had resulted in Lily crying.

‘Hi, Lily. Are you OK?’ asked Paula.

‘Well, not really. What am I doing here?’

‘We’ve arrested Dominic, I’m afraid. We just need to ask you a few questions about him.’

‘What sort of questions?’

Gerard sat down, clearly trying to curb his usual hard-man approach. ‘I’m sorry. We need to check where everyone was on the day the Mayday Five disappeared. It’s called eliminating from enquiries. He’s already told us he doesn’t have an alibi. But if Dominic messaged you that day, say, or if you spoke to him, it might help us let him go. Do you see? Would he have texted you?’

‘Not while driving,’ she said, stern.

Gerard almost smiled. ‘Of course not. But during stops? Do you keep his messages?’

She looked blank. ‘Messages?’

‘Your texts,’ said Paula, getting a little tired of Lily’s ingénue act. The girl was twenty-three, after all, not fifteen.

‘I get loads,’ she said vaguely. ‘My phone doesn’t keep them after a week or so. They like get erased.’

‘The phone company should have them.’

‘I don’t know.’ Lily went back to chewing on her nails.

‘Do you remember where Dominic was on the first of April?’ Gerard was still pushing on.

‘When was that?’ Lily was vague, distracted.

‘When the Mayday bombers went missing.’

‘Duh. I mean, like how long ago?’

‘It was a month ago, Lily,’ said Paula, shifting forward. The baby rolled with her. ‘You need to tell us if you know anything. It could be very serious if you don’t and we find out later you lied. Dominic says he was out on the road that day. Were you with him?’

‘I don’t go with him,’ she said, sulkily. ‘I’ve got my college course. Probably I was there.’

‘Do they take attendance?’

‘Yeah. Usually.’

‘So we can check if you were there.’

‘You could if you could be bothered.’

Paula and Gerard exchanged a glance. Paula began to speak quietly. ‘Lily. I know you want to protect Dominic. I know you’ve all been through hell. But three people have been murdered, and another three are missing, and we have to follow that up, no matter who they were. We have a lot of evidence linking Dominic to the crimes. He might go to prison for a long time. You can help him.’

Lily was staring at the table, her long hair pooling on it. ‘How?’ she said in a small voice.

‘Tell us everything you know.’

With trembling hands, Lily was reaching under the table into the rear pocket of her jeans. She unlocked her phone with a click and passed it to Paula. ‘Look. I want you to.’

Paula scrolled up the message list, trying not to read them but getting a general impression of smileys and kisses from Lily, a more restrained tone from Dominic. Contrary to what Lily had said, they went all the way back to 1st April. There were several from that day, but all from Lily asking where he was and was he missing her, the kisses gradually dropping off as the day went on, culminating in CALL ME PLEASE.

Paula looked up. Lily’s head was drooping, so her caramel hair pooled on her lap. ‘Did he ever call?’

‘Later. He got busy, he said. He doesn’t like to answer when he’s driving. He’s . . . he’s very good.’

‘Lily.’

A small sob came in answer. ‘What will happen to him?’

‘Well, we can check his phone data. He might have made business calls that day. And we can talk to his customers – he keeps records?’

‘He writes it down in a little book. But some days he just goes up into the hills to see where they can put a windmill or something.’

‘A wind turbine?’

Lily was anxious now, wanting to help. ‘Yeah. One of those things. Can you check that?’

‘I’m sure we can. Now one last time, Lily – if you know anything about these disappearances, you really have to tell me now. You might have seen that the mayor is also missing now, and we think it’s connected. It’s very serious.’

‘I – I don’t know anything.’

Gerard jumped on it. ‘Ms Sloane, please tell us. Have you ever heard Dominic or anyone else talk about revenge, anything like that?’

‘It’ll help Dominic if I tell you?’

‘Of course.’

‘Well – I don’t know if this has anything to do with it. I don’t go to all the meetings. I have college and stuff. But one time I went – it was after the court case all fell through, you know. There was talk in the meeting about what to do next. John was in charge. You know old John. He always talks to me like I’m five. Anyway, Dominic stood up and he started shouting. He said we had to do something. Did John not understand these people had killed his child, and was he supposed to sit back and take it? John said they’d killed his child too – you know, Danny, that was his son, he was at my school – but there wasn’t anything left to do. All the money was spent and they just had to leave it in God’s hands. Dominic said where was God when his wee girl was dying under him.’

‘And what did John say?’

Lily’s face was streaked with tears on one side. She’d put on heavy make-up to see them, thick mascara on her one good eye. It was a terrible thing to see, someone with one missing eye trying to cry out of it. Paula knew it was unprofessional, but she moved to the other side of the table and awkwardly put her arm round the girl.

‘He said . . . he said he didn’t know where God was, and if he thought about it too much he’d lose his faith, and he couldn’t because that was all he had left now. That’s all I know. Honest.’

Paula looked at Gerard over the girl’s shaking shoulders. He nodded reluctantly. ‘Come on, Lily,’ she said. ‘Let’s get you a cup of tea or something.’

‘Can I go home?’ she sniffed.

‘You can go home for now, yes.’

As she led Lily into the reception area, the girl bolted and ran into the arms of a woman wearing an expensive jumper and jeans, who from the resemblance had to be her mother, Katrine. Only forty-five herself, she had shorter, highlighted blonde hair, and the same turquoise eyes as Lily – except hers were intact.

‘Mum!’

‘What’s going on here?’ Katrine Sloane fixed them with a cold glare over her daughter’s shoulder. Lily was several inches taller. ‘How dare you arrest her without me or her father?’

‘She’s twenty-three, ma’am,’ said Gerard, following behind. ‘It’s perfectly legal. Anyway, she wasn’t under arrest, we were just questioning her.’

‘I’m not saying it’s illegal,’ she snapped. ‘I’m talking about basic human decency. Have you people no idea what my daughter’s been through?’

‘Just take me home,’ Lily wept, her voice muffled in her mother’s shoulder. ‘Please, Mum. Get me out of here.’

Gerard looked at Paula again, sighed. ‘Corry wants you to observe the interview with Martin.’

‘Mr Martin,’ said Corry briskly. ‘I’m sorry we’ve had to take you in today. We’re sympathetic to your loss, please believe that.’ She was sitting across the table from him, Gerard at her side. Paula was watching from outside the room.

He sat relaxed in his chair, watching Corry from his green eyes. He wore jeans and a blue T-shirt with paint on it. ‘But I’m here in the interview room.’

‘It’s unavoidable. You were caught on camera making death threats to people who later turn up murdered. You own a van of the same description as one seen at the crime scenes, which we are reliably informed was used to pick up the victims – and one of them actually died in it. You must see we had to bring you in.’

‘It was stolen,’ said Martin calmly. ‘Terrible time, when you can’t leave a vehicle without it being stolen.’

Gerard leaned in. ‘Bit of a coincidence, isn’t it? With your link to the bombers.’

He met their gazes steadily. ‘Could be I was targeted. An easy suspect.’

Corry made an impatient gesture. ‘There’s reported stolen and there’s stolen, Mr Martin. I think we both know the difference, so let’s not waste each other’s time. You had the means to carry out the kidnap and we found mineral traces from one of the crime scenes on your shoes, the sea caves down at the coast.’

He eased back in his chair. ‘Well, I go there a lot. I used to take my daughter. Amber. She’s dead now, so I go alone.’

Corry looked at him closely. ‘I was working that day,’ she said, changing her tone. ‘I was in the control room when the warning came in. We missed it.’

He said nothing, but his jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.

‘I just wanted you to know,’ she went on. ‘The dispatcher who missed the warning lost her job. Of course, we get hundreds of threats all the time. There was no code word and the warning was vague. But it was in my power to stop it, Mr Martin. It was in my power to save Amber, and I didn’t. I’m so sorry.’

He looked away – score one for Corry. ‘It was no one’s fault but the people who primed and set the bomb,’ he said. ‘I’ve never blamed anyone else.’

‘But still. We felt responsible. My supervisor put a gun in his mouth.’

Dominic almost smiled. It was one of the most chilling things Paula had ever seen. ‘Collateral damage,’ he said.

Corry stiffened. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘That was the phrase they used, wasn’t it? The Ireland First lot. They hadn’t meant for children or women to die – that was just unfortunate. There’d been – what was the phrase they used?’ He paused as if trying to recall. ‘I can’t remember.’

Corry watched him. ‘I’m not sure what you mean, Mr Martin.’

‘Oh, I’m sure you do. It was reported quite widely in the press. They got their voices heard, that lot. My daughter meanwhile had barely learned to talk. She could say three words. Do you know what they were? One was “doggy”. One was “no”.’

‘Mr Martin—’

‘The other was “dada”. A daddy’s girl even then – well. Do you have children?’

Corry ignored him. ‘Where were you on the first of April, Mr Martin?’

‘Out on the road, like I said. I was siting a new wind turbine. Planning laws, you know – it’s a nightmare.’

‘You were in your van?’

‘Yes, of course. Can’t get my equipment in the Lotus.’

‘You were in your white transit van.’

‘Yes.’

‘Alone.’

‘I work alone, yes, and the reception up there is dire.’ He smiled. ‘Not that more masts are the answer.’

Corry put a picture on the table. ‘For the tape, I’m showing Mr Martin image forty-two, a white transit van proceeding down Bluebell Road, home of the deceased Callum Brady. Is that your van, Mr Martin?’