Page 41 of Death at Inishmore Castle

Kieran will kill me.

But I would find a way to work it into a conversation.

There was another file for the Airendales, the American couple. From the notes, it looked as if they’d come to check out Gordon O’Sullivan’s business with the intent of possibly importing their Irish whiskey to the States. They owned a liquor distribution company.

Kieran had a note he was waiting to hear back from American law enforcement and Interpol about the couple.

Does he suspect them of something?

As I went through the papers, I found no answers, only more questions.

He had very little about Fiona the birder. He’d printed out the photo from her camera. Even though it had been blown up,it was impossible to see the figure as more than a shadow. It looked like a man, though, it could possibly have been a tall woman in pants.

There wasn’t much more about Fiona in the files. She was tall and strong enough to stab the priest, but I just couldn’t see her as the murderer. She seemed way more interested in birds than humans. I wasn’t even certain she was aware of the other people here. She didn’t seem to interact with anyone except my sister, me and the O’Sullivans. She was shy. Not that I hadn’t been duped by a woman who murdered before.

We were just as capable as men when it came to committing heinous crimes. But they were usually crimes of passion. That, and few women would be able to strangle someone to death. It took much more strength, and skill, than most people realized.

What we lacked with all of the suspects was motive.

That was except for Maximillian. If he had been involved in a financial scheme with the priest and nun, it would follow that he might knock them off to keep them quiet. Even I had to admit that was a bit of a reach, but he was the only one I’d seen so far who had a record. Did the priest and nun find out about the mishandling of money? Were they possibly blackmailing him? It was as good a theory as any I’d come up with and answered the third-party question.

He went to the top of my list. He had shifty eyes, and more importantly, a crime-filled past. Okay, it had been only one illegal scheme, but that was enough.

At that point I was interrupted. “Your ten minutes are up. Besides, I think I heard someone down the hall,” my sister whispered, coming into the room.

After taking quick pictures of the files with my phone, I put the lid back on the box and we scooted out of the incident room.

We’d just turned the corner into the main hall when we heard Kieran speaking. It sounded like he was on his phone. How didhe have a signal when the rest of us didn’t? Then I saw, he was speaking on a SAT phone that the military used.

“Run a check on the staff. Yes, everyone.”

I hadn’t seen any files on the staff in the box I’d looked through. He must have had those in a different one. Could the killer be someone who worked here? But why strike now? And why kill the priest and nun? Even though I was sure they weren’t clergy, I would always call them that in my head.

While I’m normally good with directions, my mind was busy running through facts on our way to the room. We took a couple of wrong turns but eventually found the way.

“I’m exhausted,” Lizzie said.

Mr. Poe yawned so big he almost fell over. It was way past his bedtime. He would sometimes try to drag Lizzie by her pajama legs upstairs if she stayed up late watching television. He was a dog with a schedule.

“Me too,” I said honestly. “We’ve had a lot going on the last twenty-four hours.”

“I’d feel safer if Kieran would allow us to go home, but I also want to find out what happened. And I know you’ll refuse even if he did let us head back to Shamrock Cove.”

“If he lets us leave, he must allow the others to go too. He’s smart trying to keep everyone contained, even though it may feel a bit scary for us.”

“A bit?”

She shivered.

“Okay, a lot scary. But it is smart. I need a shower. Why don’t you go on to bed?”

As I stood under the hot water, my mind whirled with facts like a bingo cage with too many numbers. Except for our lovely neighbors, I considered everyone in the castle a suspect.

But I’d already made a wrong turn. Since most of the staff had been with the O’Sullivans for years, they hadn’t been on myradar. That was a rookie mistake. But there was no way I could interview all of them without looking highly suspicious.

Still, from experience, I knew people here in Ireland liked a bit of gossip. Lolly had once said it came from their rich heritage of storytelling. I believed her. All of our neighbors were great storytellers.

In Shamrock Cove, everyone knew your business, sometimes before you did. It was one of the town’s many quirks.

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