Let's Play Dead (22 page)

“Nell, Barney’s about to leave, but he wanted to thank you first. You have a minute?”

“Sure, I’ll be right down.” I could use the exercise—maybe the blood would return to my brain if I actually left my chair. It seemed to work, because I had a thought as I walked to the stairs, or maybe a series of thoughts. Barney was probably in his sixties and apparently had been an electrician and union member most of his adult life. Could he have known Nolan Treacy? Would he know, or could he find out, if Nolan was actually in Philadelphia at the moment? It was worth asking.

I found Barney and Felicity in the catalog room, still deep in conversation. Barney was clutching a thick sheaf of photocopies, and he looked dazed but happy. Felicity was doing much of the talking, and Barney nodded now and then. They didn’t notice me until I was a few feet away from them.

“You look like you’ve had a successful day,” I said.

Barney nodded vigorously. “Yeah, really. Felicity here was great—she really knows her stuff.”

“Well, of course I do—that’s why I’m head librarian,” she said, softening her statement with a smile. “But I love all that early baseball history. I’m so glad I could help! I’ll keep looking, if you’ve got the time to come back again?”

“Sure, I’d love to.”

As I watched the two of them smiling at each other, I wondered if I had started something more than research here. I knew exactly nothing about Felicity’s personal life, and even less about Barney’s, but I’d never seen either look so animated. Interesting.

“Barney, if you’ve got one more moment, I’d like to ask you something,” I said.

He tore himself away from Felicity’s gaze. “Oh, sure, no problem. What?”

“Maybe we should take this someplace more private?” It wasn’t the kind of question I wanted to ask in the middle of a busy—well, sort of busy—public room. “Thanks, Felicity,” I said, then led Barney to the old boardroom under the stairs.

He looked confused. “What’s this about? You still thinking about electrical problems?”

“Kind of.” There was no simple way to lead into this, so I just jumped right in. “Barney, have you ever known an electrician named Nolan Treacy?”

“Nolan? Yeah, sure. We were both in the union back in the eighties, and then he left town. I hadn’t thought of him in years until recently.”

My radar went into overdrive. “Why recently?”

“He’s in town, visiting, and came by the union hall, a week or two ago, looking for his old mates. We all went out and had a few drinks. Why’re you asking about him?”

So Nolan could have been in town in time for the Let’s Play accident. “Did you know he was once married to Arabella Heffernan, the woman who runs Let’s Play?”

Barney sat back in his chair, clearly surprised. “That I didn’t! Back in the day, we weren’t exactly buddies, and we never talked about families, just about work. But he was really into the whole Sinn Fein thing back then. Kept asking us all to contribute to the cause, that kind of thing.”

“Before he left Philadelphia?”

“Yeah, and then he just fell off the map. Somebody said he went back to Ireland. I know I didn’t hear from him again until the other week, like I said.”

I wondered if I’d end up in hot water with James if I kept asking questions. I should just tell Barney to talk to the FBI, but I didn’t know how he’d react to that suggestion. “What’s he doing back here in Philadelphia?”

Barney shrugged. “Said he was just visiting.”

“How did he seem to you?”

“What’re you getting at? He used to be a real jumpy kind of guy, with a gift of gab. But we’re both twenty-some years older now, and he’s more laid-back—like we all are, I guess. I know he’s got kids back in Ireland, too—he showed us pictures.”

So Nolan had remarried, after he left Arabella. His visit sounded completely innocent—or was he hoping to set up something more? I was so not prepared to deal with this kind of thing. “Did he say whether he’d seen his ex-wife?”

“Didn’t come up. Why all the questions, Nell?”

I had to decide which way to go, and I opted for the simple truth. “The FBI is looking at him for the electrical accident at Let’s Play, since he was connected to Arabella, and he may have terrorist ties.”

Barney stared at me for a moment, then laughed out loud. “You’ve gotta be kidding. Hey, we were all young then, and most of us had Irish relatives, so some of us were into that whole scene. But that’s a long way from doing anything violent, apart from handing over some cash now and then. Are you saying Nolan went back to Ireland and got into it there?”

“I don’t know. But the FBI apparently has reason to check it out. Do you know where he’s staying?”

“He didn’t say. We talked about getting together again, but we didn’t set a time. But I think you’re barking up the wrong tree here. The idea of Nolan being a terrorist . . . You might as well suspect me. It’s a sad turn of events when old pals can’t get together for a drink without being suspected of plotting the overthrow of something or other. And him, a man with kids? I can’t see him going after a kiddy museum.”

“Was he angry with Arabella?”

“How the hell would I know?”

Great, now I was making him angry. “Barney, I’m sorry if I’ve upset or insulted you in any way. I’ll admit I find it far-fetched, too, that a guy who hasn’t been in Philadelphia for decades would show up now and stir up trouble. But he is an electrician, and he did have some sort of terrorist ties, once upon a time. Wouldn’t you rather the FBI checked it out, before someone else gets hurt?”

Barney didn’t look convinced. “I guess. You want me to ask around, see if anyone knows where to find him? That way he can clear things up.”

“I don’t want to make trouble for anyone, including Nolan, but maybe he should know that the FBI would like a word with him. Again, I’m sorry if I’ve caused any hard feelings between us, and I appreciate the information you’ve given me. Are we okay?”

“Sure, no problem. You’ve done me a great service here, getting Felicity to help me out, and it’s the least I can do to thank you. I’m sure it’ll all be nothing, in the end.”

“Good. I’ll see you out. And I hope you’ll come back again.”

“Already planning to—Felicity said she had some ideas where to look next. You’ve got a whole lot of stuff here.”

“Don’t I know it!”

I escorted Barney to the front door and then headed back to my office, wrestling with an internal debate: should I call James and tell him what Barney had said about Nolan? Maybe I was worried about nothing. Maybe James had already confirmed that Nolan was in town. Maybe it really was Nolan whom Arabella and I had seen at the Market.

I decided to say nothing for the moment. I didn’t want James to know I was meddling in his business. Upstairs, half the offices were dark already—people tended to leave on the dot of five on Fridays, especially at this time of year when it was cold and dark out. Eric had left a neat stack of phone slips on my desk. The top one was from Arabella. Did I want to talk to her now? I checked my watch: nearly six. I didn’t have her home number, so I would call her office and leave a message, and clear my conscience.

I was surprised when she answered her phone. “Oh, Nell, thank you so much for calling me back. I really need to talk to you.”

“Now?”

“No, I can’t tonight. Is there any way you could come by my house tomorrow morning?”

On a Saturday? I considered turning her down but realized with embarrassment that I had no weekend plans. She sweetened the pot by promising breakfast, but she didn’t say anything more about why she needed to see me so urgently. Still, she wasn’t the hysterical type—although I could imagine that dealing with Hadley had pushed her over the edge—so I assumed she had a good reason for asking. Besides, driving into the city would take me no more than forty minutes, so what excuse did I have to say no? “Tell me how to get there.”

As arranged, Saturday morning found me driving to the
city. Arabella lived in a quiet neighborhood east of the Philadelphia Art Museum. She had probably bought it years ago when she first married, when the neighborhood had been a bit seedier—and more affordable—than it was now. The house itself, when I located it, proved to be small and charming, its trim newly painted, its brass knocker gleaming. I parked on the street, then approached the door and knocked. I heard the tap-tap of shoes on what must be bare wooden floors, and then Arabella opened the door.

“Oh, good, you found it. Nell, I’m so sorry to interrupt your weekend, but I thought this was important. Come on in. Can I get you some coffee?”

She led me down the narrow hall with a steep staircase along one side, to the living room at the back. I stopped on the threshold, because there was someone else there I thought I recognized: “You’re Nolan Treacy.”

The man had risen when I appeared, and now stepped forward to offer his hand. “I am. I hear my name’s been getting tossed about lately.”

“It’s come up,” I said cautiously.

Nolan raised both hands in protest. “I’m a respectable man with nothing to hide.”

Arabella interrupted. “The FBI got in touch with me the other day to ask if I knew where Nolan was. I hadn’t seen him since we split up, decades ago, but it turns out he’s been in town for the past few weeks. The FBI talked to some of his old friends, and they passed the word to him, and he got in touch with me late yesterday. I wanted you to hear what he had to say, Nell, since you’ve been so helpful to me. Unfortunately it doesn’t seem to get us any closer to figuring out who messed with the exhibit, but I guess we can eliminate a few possibilities. Let me set the food out so we can eat. I’ll just be a minute.” Arabella bustled toward what had to be the kitchen. I stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do next. Nolan looked equally ill at ease.

“So,” I finally began, “you and Arabella were married?”

“We were, years ago. Nineteen eighty, it was. Caitlin was born in 1985, but we were already having problems by then. I returned to Ireland shortly after we split in 1990.”

I felt uncomfortable talking about such personal matters with a man I didn’t know. Heck, I barely knew Arabella. “What brought you back now? Have you been back to this country since you two split?”

“I haven’t. I had a lot of things to sort out, back home, and I guess my life kind of went on. Arabella divorced me after I left. I’ve remarried, and I’m a father again now.”

“Come help yourselves,” Arabella called out.

I got up and made my way to the dining room, relieved to be able to put off this conversation. Arabella had laid out a pretty spread of breakfast goodies, nicely arrayed on fine china. Was she showing off for Nolan? Given the way she was keeping as far away from him as possible, I guessed that there was no lingering affection on her part. I wondered about the whole story behind their split, but no way was I going to ask. I took a plate and filled it, and when we were all ready, we returned to the living room.

“I don’t mean to spoil this lovely food, Arabella, but can you tell me, why was it so urgent for you to speak with me in person?” I asked.

She sighed, and set her plate down on a delicate side table. “I thought you’d want to hear the story. The FBI asked me if I knew where Nolan might be staying. At the time I told them the truth, which was that I hadn’t seen him, or at least I wasn’t sure—and then yesterday he called me out of the blue.” She sent an angry look Nolan’s way. “I didn’t want to meet him alone, and that’s why I asked you to join us. But I don’t know what to do about the FBI. Should I call them? I don’t want to get myself in any trouble about this by not telling them. I thought perhaps you had more experience dealing with the FBI?”

I wondered why she hadn’t just asked me for a contact name at the FBI, but I could see that she might hesitate at just turning her ex-husband over to them, whatever her past or current feelings were. I tried to work out the best way to explain my odd connection to the FBI, and settled for the simplest. “When we had our problems at the Society, I got to know the local agent in charge, James Morrison. Normally he wouldn’t be involved in the investigation of the incident at Let’s Play, but when they found the connection between you and Nolan, he was called in.” Both looked blank, so I added, “The IRA terrorist angle.”

It took Nolan a moment to figure out what I’d said, and then he burst out laughing. “That old business! So that’s what this is about? That was mostly blather back in the day—it was a different time, and tempers ran a bit high. But beyond sending a few punts back to the boys at home, I was never
really
involved with the IRA or anything like it. I’m almost flattered that they’d see me in that light, but it’s got nothing to do with this now.”

Arabella was watching him coldly. “You certainly talked a good line, Nolan. That was one of the things that split us up—you were always going off to some bar to recruit people or collect more money.”

Nolan looked at her. “That’s what I told you, love, but mostly I wanted to get out of the house. I’ll admit it now—I wasn’t ready for marriage then, especially after Caitlin came along. I was too young and too full of myself. It wasn’t fair to you, and I figured the best thing I could do for you was to walk away.”

Arabella’s color darkened. “Well, thank you so much for running back to Ireland and leaving me with a baby and a mortgage and no way to support myself! You never sent a penny. You never even asked how we were.”

Nolan held up his hands in surrender. “I was wrong, Bella. I signed the divorce papers, didn’t I? I figured you were better off without me. I did think you’d remarry, though.”

Arabella was not placated. “And when did I have time to find a new husband? I was holding down a job and taking classes at night and trying to be a mother to Caitlin. And after the way you’d treated me, I wasn’t exactly eager to find a replacement.”

“I’m sorry—I know it can’t have been easy. You’ve done well for yourself, though.”