Chapter 34

THIRTY-FOUR

Conor straightened his shoulders as he marched over to Bob Cleary. Tony had got over himself and agreed to give him support.

‘Mr Cleary,’ he said, ‘can I have a word?’

‘I told him about the tunnel,’ Tony added. ‘You know … what we found down there.’

Cleary rounded on him. ‘Can you not take a direct order? Didn’t I tell you to say nothing?’

‘Yes, you did, but Conor is … well, he’s my friend and I had to tell someone. He won’t say anything.’

Watching the exchange, Conor decided he had to say something before Cleary took a swipe at Tony. Only God himself knew what would happen if he did that.

‘Mr Cleary, sir. I’m part of the team here. I need this job. Is it true, what Tony said? About there being an old body in the tunnel?’ He didn’t want to let them know he’d already been down there.

Cleary sighed, tipped back his hard hat and ran a muddy gloved hand through his straw-like hair. ‘I don’t know how old it is. But it’s been there a while, by the state of it. There’ll be guards and archaeologists and every Tom, Dick and Harry down there before long. So I have to tell Mr Gill about it now.’

‘Why?’ Conor shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned his head to one side. Trying to look intelligent.

‘Why what?’

‘Why do you have to tell him? Can’t you just ignore the fact that you found the body, do the job that has to be done in the tunnel and close it up again? That’s what I’d do.’

Cleary scratched his head vigorously but said nothing.

Conor decided to go for it. ‘If you report it, the job will be shut down. It could be months before we’re allowed back on site. The boss won’t like that. It’s already behind schedule, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, it is,’ Cleary conceded.

‘The tunnel hasn’t caved in in the last two hundred years and who’s to say there aren’t more bodies down there. Reporting your find will affect the job.’

‘The weight of the new lift shaft that has to be constructed might cause subsidence. The whole thing needs to be supported. That tunnel is make or break on this job.’ Cleary looked around wildly. ‘Oh, I don’t know what to think.’

‘Can I go down and have a look, and then we can decide?’

‘Since when did you become the decision-maker around here?’ Cleary said.

‘Since no one else can make a decision.’ Conor held his breath, waiting for the onslaught, but it didn’t come.

‘Okay. We’ll have another look.’ Cleary walked off towards the tunnel.

Conor looked at Tony, who shrugged his shoulders, and they both followed the foreman.

Kirby opened the door for Megan Price and followed her into Cafferty’s. It was quiet. And very dark. They ordered sandwiches at the counter and sat down in a corner of the lounge.

‘It’s never too busy at this time of day,’ he said.

‘I’m delighted you asked me to have lunch with you, even though it’s way past lunchtime. You need someone to talk your grief through with.’

‘I was just hungry,’ Kirby said, ‘and didn’t feel like eating alone.’

‘You’re full of charm.’ Her big eyes drank him in.

‘It’s been said before.’

He tried to relax, but every nerve in his body was sprung tightly. This was a mistake. What had he been thinking? Megan wasn’t Gilly. She wasn’t even his friend. Before Gilly, impulsive behaviour had been one of his traits. She had been so good for him. And now she was gone. He shook his head.

‘What is it?’

‘Look, Megan. I don’t think this is a good idea.’ He would take his sandwich and eat it back at his desk. Like he’d been doing for the last two months.

He felt her hand on his and squirmed. This was wrong. But she was only trying to be friendly. He had to calm down.

‘You need to eat,’ she said. ‘I need to eat. Let’s just wait for our food. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.’

She had hung her coat on the back of her chair, and he noticed that the top button of her dress was undone. Had it been like that earlier, when he’d called into the pharmacy? He couldn’t remember. Surely she didn’t think he fancied her? God, no, he thought.

‘Okay so,’ he said, pulling his hand out from beneath hers. He consciously tried to unwind his body before the springs shot out of it, causing him to run out the door.

‘Tell me about Gilly,’ she said.

Ah, no. Not Gilly. He couldn’t talk about her.

‘How about you tell me about yourself?’ he said.

‘Not a lot to tell,’ she said, leaning into the chair’s upholstery. ‘You wouldn’t be interested.’

The change was instantaneous. He knew the signs off by heart. Because he did the same thing every single day. Withdrawal. He tried again.

‘How long have you worked in the pharmacy?’

‘A while.’

‘What’s Whyte like to work for?’

‘Richard? He’s fine. He’s not in too often. But now that Amy … now that she isn’t around any more, he’ll have to either employ someone else or take on the mantle himself. Poor man.’

‘Talking of Amy …’ Kirby said, but at that moment the food arrived.

With cups, saucers, teapot and plates, the little round table threatened to topple over. Though Kirby had lost weight in the weeks after Gilly’s death, recently a combination of takeaway food and too much alcohol had restored his considerable bulk. For the first time in a long time, he felt conscious of his size. Was it the way Megan winced when he took a large bite out of his sandwich? Or was it when she put out her hand to stop the table wobbling when his belly nudged it? Whatever it was, it sparked a serious bout of self-consciousness, and Kirby put down the food.

‘Sorry, my appetite has disappeared.’

‘A big man like you has to eat.’ She delicately teased open her own sandwich with a fork.

Was that an insult or genuine concern? He noticed that she had extracted all the red pepper from her sandwich and lined it up neatly on the edge of the plate.

‘Since Gilly … you know … I haven’t been following any regular pattern. In anything, not just food. I just try to do my best in my job, though sometimes it’s way below par.’

‘Did you take compassionate leave?’

‘A week. I nearly drove myself mad. I’m better off at work.’

‘I was like that when my husband left. Can’t stand my own company any more. Me and the four walls don’t get along too well.’

‘How long ago was that?’ If he could keep her talking about herself, then she wouldn’t ask him questions.

‘Oh, a while ago now. I’m over him. He was a prick.’

‘Where is he? Local?’

‘I don’t want to talk about him.’ She took a tiny bite of her food and chewed it delicately.

End of that conversation, Kirby thought, and shoved a giant mouthful of chicken, peppers and chilli into his mouth.

She was eyeing him again.

‘What?’ he said, with his mouth full.

‘Nothing.’ She poured two cups of tea. ‘Milk?’

‘I’ll add my own, thanks.’ This was the most awkward he’d ever felt.

‘My husband was and is a bum. I should never have married him. He tried to fleece me for every penny I had, but I stood up to him. I’m happier without him.’

Kirby nodded, not trusting that he’d say the right thing. He wanted to get her on to safer ground.

‘Tell me about Amy. What was she like? You know, to work with.’

‘Mmm. The detective has an ulterior motive in asking me out to lunch.’

He felt his cheeks flush, but she laughed. ‘It’s fine. Most people want me for what they can get from me. I’ve grown used to it.’

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean …’

‘Don’t worry.’ She sipped some tea and put her cup down. ‘Amy was a challenge. To her father at home and to me at work. She was one of those girls who grew up with privilege. She latched on to Penny Brogan. Different backgrounds. Different upbringing and education. Amy lorded it over Penny. In a way, Penny brought it on herself.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘She never tried to better herself. I mean, come on. Stealing from her employer. That was a bit of a cheek. Especially since Amy had got her the job.’

‘But despite their differences, they still got on well?’

‘I suppose they did. Opposites attract, so they say.’

Kirby was sure she’d fluttered her eyelashes at him, but her face was unmoving. He must have imagined it. He pushed his plate away and finished his tea. ‘What did Mr Whyte think of his daughter being friends with the likes of Penny Brogan?’

‘I couldn’t comment on that.’

‘Why not?’

‘You’d have to ask Richard. I don’t want to gossip.’

Reading between the lines, Kirby guessed there was some animosity over Penny. He would have to see if that had any bearing on the murders. But no matter which way he looked at it, he couldn’t imagine the councillor murdering his own daughter.

‘Right, so,’ he said. ‘I better get back to work.’

He paid the bill, ignoring Megan’s pleas to let her go halves.

‘It’s only a few euros,’ he said as he helped her slip her arms into the sleeves of her coat. He could have sworn she let her hand linger on his. No, he didn’t want that. It was too soon.

He couldn’t wait to get back to work.