Taken for Dead (Kate Maguire) (9 page)

‘Well, I suppose that’s some kind of relief,’ said Katie. ‘At least we can be sure now that it
is
him that we’ll be paying for.’ She was conscious now that David was listening to her, and so she said, ‘Hold on a moment, Kyna.’

To David she said, ‘Do you mind if you show yourself out, David? This is quite important. If you want to drop by this evening, I’ll give you Dr Murphy’s number, and there’s another psychotherapist I can think of who may be able to help you.’

‘Thanks,’ said David. He came up to her and kissed her on the right cheek. He would have kissed her on the other cheek if she hadn’t lifted her iPhone back up to her ear and turned away from him. He gave her an awkward little finger-wave and a twinkly-eyed wink, and went back out to the hallway to collect his raincoat.

Katie heard the front door close. ‘What about the money?’ she asked Detective Sergeant Ni Nuallán.

‘Two security guards from AIB brought it round about twenty minutes ago. Inspector Fennessy signed for it.’

‘You’ve checked it?’

‘It’s all there. Two hundred thousand in two hundred euro notes and fifty thousand in hundreds. I was very tempted to stuff some into my pockets, but I resisted the temptation. To be fair, I don’t know what I’d spend it on.’

‘Shelagh Hagerty’s car?’

‘The technical boys fitted two GPS trackers last night. As soon as I take the money around to her house, we’re all ready to go.’

‘I’m just leaving home now,’ said Katie. ‘I know I’ve said it fifty times already, but it’s absolutely critical that Derek Hagerty’s abductors have no idea that Shelagh’s contacted us, so there must be strictly no references to any of this on the radio apart from the code signals that we’ve agreed. I don’t want some blabbermouth garda saying “We’re in position at Merchants Quay” or anything like that.’

‘I think that Bryan Molloy has already told his officers that. But I’ll make doubly sure.’

‘I want to catch these scumbags, Kyna, but most of all I want to see Derek Hagerty reunited with his wife and kids. Alive, like, and not in a box.’

They were still laughing when they left Tom’s Tavern in McCurtain Street, in Fermoy, and climbed into Meryl’s car. The two of them hadn’t seen each other in five and a half years and they had so much catching up to do.

Their reunion had been painful as well as funny. Eoghan and Meryl had been childhood sweethearts ever since they had attended Carrigaline Community School together. Everybody had assumed that they would one day be married. They had always talked about it themselves, and what their children might look like.

‘So long as our daughter isn’t born with a hooter like yours,’ Meryl used to say. ‘And so long as our sons don’t have my curly-wurly hair.’

But, as usual, fate had had different ideas, and after Eoghan had graduated from college he had been offered a job with Rank Audio in west London. It was an opportunity he had been unable to refuse, since there were no comparable jobs available in Cork. He had promised Meryl that when he had made enough money he would come back and marry her, but after seven months in England he had met Patsy and made her pregnant, and married her instead.

Meryl had eventually married the boss of the travel agency where she worked, Norman, who was twenty-two years older than she was, but considerate and kind and treated her well, although he was unable to give her children. Meryl still kept a photograph in her purse of herself and Eoghan, standing by the river’s edge at Crosshaven. They were both smiling, but they looked as if they were cold.

‘I’ll drive you home the long way,’ said Eoghan, as he started up the engine. ‘The longer this afternoon lasts, the better. In fact, I wish it didn’t have to end at all.’

Meryl laid her hand on his. It was his left hand, on which he wore his wedding ring. ‘We can’t turn back the clock, Eoghan. What’s done is done.’

Eoghan closed his eyes for a moment and gripped the steering wheel tightly, as if he wished the car was a DeLorean and could transport them back to the past. But when he opened his eyes again, it was still the same day, and nothing had changed.

‘Come on,’ said Meryl gently. ‘This afternoon can’t last for ever. But you can take me back the long way if you like.’

They drove out of McCurtain Street and crossed the seven-arch stone bridge over the Blackwater River. The river was running fast and dark today, because the sky was so grey. Once they were over the bridge they turned left along the Mallow Road, although Eoghan wasn’t planning to drive as far as Mallow – only as far as Ballyhooly, and then make his way back cross-country to Cork City. He just wanted to be alone for as long as possible with the fields and the trees and the crows and the distant hills, and Meryl.

‘Will I see you again?’ he asked her.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Eoghan.’

‘But I have to go back to England first thing on Saturday morning, and God alone knows when I’ll be able to come here next.’

He took the turning just before Ballyhooly which would take them back south over the Blackwater. The narrow road was completely deserted, with hedges or stone walls on either side. The only living things in sight were the cows grazing in the pastures by the side of the river and the crows perched along the telephone lines.

‘I made a mistake, and I’ve paid for it,’ said Eoghan. ‘I’m still paying for it. I’m going to be paying for it for the rest of my life. Isn’t there any way that – ’

‘What, Eoghan? Isn’t there any way that what?’

He had to blink as he drove because there were tears in his eyes. ‘Nothing,’ he said. ‘Absolutely nothing at all.’

They drove in silence for the next ten minutes. Meryl was tempted to lay her hand on his knee, just to reassure him that she was still fond of him, but she knew that he would probably take it the wrong way and it would only make matters worse. In Tom’s Tavern he had already suggested that they take a room at the Grand Hotel for the rest of the afternoon, and he had only been half joking.

As they drove around the curve past Ballynoe, Meryl suddenly twisted around in her seat and said, ‘Eoghan! Stop!’

‘What? What is it?’ he said, slowing down.

‘Stop! Look – there’s a man lying on the ground back there!’

Eoghan stopped the car and turned around to look back along the road.

‘Is that a man? It looks more like a sack of potatoes to me.’

‘It’s a man, I saw his face! We can’t just leave him there! Supposing he’s hurt? Supposing he’s dead?’

‘Supposing he’s dead drunk, more like.’

‘Well, we can take a look, can’t we? Just to make sure.’

Eoghan hesitated for a moment. Here he was, enjoying a few last minutes alone with Meryl, and now it was all going to be spoiled by this drunk lying sprawled by the side of the road. Whatever happened, the spell was going to be broken.

At that moment, though, his iPhone pinged. It was a message from Patsy.
Sammy’s been sick twice going to take him to the doctor
. It was then that he realized that there really was no spell, except the spell that he was under. Meryl was right. This wasn’t a good idea at all, because it would only lead to pain and suffering, and most of that pain and suffering would be his.

‘Hold on two seconds,’ he told Meryl, and he quickly tapped out a reply to Patsy, telling her to text him later, when she knew what was wrong. Then he backed the car up the lane to where the man was lying on the ground, and climbed out. Meryl climbed out, too, but stayed back while Eoghan went to take a closer look at him.

The man had resembled a bag of potatoes because he was wearing a light brown tweed suit of the same colour as sacking. The suit was soiled and dusty, and one of the sleeves had almost been ripped away at the shoulder. His shirt collar was stained dark brown with blood.

He was lying with his right cheek against the dirt track. His grey hair was tangled and filthy, and his face was so bruised that it was difficult for Eoghan to tell what he looked like, except that he had a bulbous nose and bushy grey eyebrows. His lips were grossly swollen, so that he appeared to be pouting.

Eoghan knelt down next to him and leaned over him, trying to hear if he was still breathing, but the bushes were rustling in the breeze and the trees were creaking so it was hard for him to be sure.

‘Is he dead?’ called out Meryl.

‘I don’t know. He’s got blood on him but I don’t know where it’s from.’

‘Try shaking him.’

‘That’s all right for you to say. Supposing he’s dead?’

‘Then he won’t mind, will he?’

Eoghan cautiously reached out and laid his hand on the man’s shoulder. He shook him three or four times, and said, ‘Hey! Hey! Mister! Are you awake?’

The man opened one blue eye and stared at the ground. ‘What?’ he murmured.

‘We thought you were dead,’ said Eoghan.

‘What?’

‘We were driving past and we saw you lying on the ground here and we thought you were dead.’

The man raised his head and stared up at Eoghan in bewilderment. He tried to sit up, but didn’t seem to have enough strength, so Eoghan took hold of his arm and helped him. He sat there, looking around him, blinking at the bright grey daylight.

‘Where am I?’ he asked, in a muffled, blubbery voice.

‘You’re about halfway between White Cross and Ballynoe.’

‘How did I get here?’

‘I wouldn’t have any idea at all. You must have walked here, unless somebody threw you out of a car.’

Now Meryl came forward. ‘State of you la,’ she said, shaking her head. ‘Did somebody give you a beating or something?’

The man thought about that, and then nodded. ‘They beat me with, yes, with a metal bar. They pulled most of my front teeth out. They said they were going to cut bits off of me, first my fingers and then my toes, and after that my nose and my ears.’

‘Holy Mary, Mother of God,’ said Meryl. ‘Who were they? Do you know who they were?’

‘No. Never saw them before. You wouldn’t have any water on you, would you? My throat feels like emery paper.’

‘No, sorry,’ said Eoghan. ‘But look – I’ll call for an ambulance for you, and the guards, too.’

‘No, no, no, don’t do that!’ the man told him, suddenly agitated. ‘They swore to track me down and kill me if I went to the guards. My family too. I was sure they would have killed me anyway, if I hadn’t managed to escape.’

‘You need medical attention, though,’ said Eoghan. ‘If they were beating you with a metal bar you could have internal injuries. And look how they’ve smashed up your mouth. Jesus. What did they use to take out your teeth? A hammer?’

‘Don’t call for an ambulance, please. If you call for an ambulance, the paramedics will have to tell the guards, they’re obliged to. I know I look bad now, but once I’ve had a chance to clean myself up and once the bruising’s settled down – ’

‘Well, we can’t just leave you here,’ Eoghan told him, although he was thinking to himself, I wish we could, you stink to high heaven and whatever happened to you, I don’t want Meryl and me to be involved in it.

‘What’s your name?’ Meryl asked him.

‘Well, maybe it’s better for you if you don’t know.’

‘I have to call you something, don’t I?’

‘Call me Denny if you like. That’ll do.’

‘Look, then, Denny, I’ll take you home with me,’ said Meryl. ‘My husband will know what to do.’

The man frowned at Eoghan and said, ‘Oh, so
he’s
not – ?’

‘No, he’s just a friend. Do you think you can manage to stand up?’

‘I’ll try, if you give me a bit of help.’

Eoghan and Meryl took one of his hands each, and between them they managed to heave the man up on to his feet. He stood swaying for a moment, but then he took one shuffling step forward, and then another.

‘What time is it?’ he asked.

‘Just gone one o’clock,’ said Eoghan.

‘Oh, right.’ He thought about that, and then he said, ‘What day is it?’

‘You really don’t know?’

They helped him into the back seat of Meryl’s car. Before they climbed in themselves, Eoghan said, ‘What the hell are you going to tell Norman?’

‘I’m going to tell him the truth, what else? I bumped into an old friend by accident – although that’s not quite the truth. We decided to go for a drink at one of our favourite old watering holes and have a catch-up, and on the way back to the city we came across this unfortunate fellow.’

‘And you think he’ll swallow that? He won’t be asking you who this “old friend” was?’

Meryl took hold of Eoghan’s hands. ‘Eoghan, darling, even if he does, it’s the truth, and the truth can’t harm you. And nothing happened between us, did it?’

‘Well, you’re right, of course,’ said Eoghan. ‘I suppose I’m only wishing that Norman
did
have something to be jealous about. Here – ’

He handed her back her car keys. ‘You can drop me off anywhere you like. Anderson’s Quay would be grand.’

They got back into the car. It now smelled strongly of body odour and dried urine, mingled with the pine air-freshener that dangled from the rear-view mirror. The man’s chin was resting on his chest and he was snoring, with a string of bloody dribble hanging from his lower lip.

Meryl said, ‘Eoghan – ’ but Eoghan said, ‘No, Meryl, you’re right. It’s all too late, isn’t it? It’s all far, far too late.’

At 1.53 that afternoon, Shelagh Hagerty drove her silver Renault Mégane into the multi-storey car park at the back of Dunne’s Stores on Merchants Quay and parked it on the second level.

As she switched off the engine and took out the keys, a dark blue Ford Mondeo reversed into a parking space directly opposite her. A young blonde woman climbed out and opened the rear door so that she could unbuckle her baby from its car seat.

Katie was watching this from the main CCTV viewing room at the Garda station in Anglesea Street. Inspector Fennessy was sitting beside her with his hair sticking up at the back like a small boy and his tie loosened, looking weary, while Detective Sergeant Ni Nuallán was standing so close that Katie could smell her strong floral perfume.

Crime Prevention Officer Tony Brennan was there, too, ruddy-faced, noisily sipping a latte and keeping a proprietary eye on his thirty-six flickering TV screens, showing street scenes from all over the city.