Page 75 of Hidden Daughters

‘I would like a confession.’

‘You’re not getting one.’

‘Then I want time to build a case. I can hold Mr O’Shaughnessy for twenty-four hours. I can also ask my superintendent to extend that time. Okay?’

‘No, it’s not okay,’ Bryan blurted. ‘I only met Imelda Conroy the one time, when she wanted to interview me about the laundries.’

‘And why would she want to interview you?’

Time to take his solicitor’s advice. ‘No comment.’

‘Right then, Ms Ward, your client will be taken to a cell. You can have ten minutes to talk to him before then.’ Mooney spoke for the tape and switched off the machine.

The red light went out in the corner above his head and he left the room.

‘Start talking,’ Norah Ward said.

Bryan felt his mouth go dry, and all the words he might have wanted to utter disappeared.

47

They left Lottie sitting in the fancy Garda HQ reception area for twenty minutes before Mooney came out to her.

‘I need a decent coffee,’ he said. ‘And air. Let’s walk.’

They headed in silence to the hotel they’d been at before. He ordered coffee for them both, and they sat at a table by the large window. It would have been overlooking part of Galway Bay if the sweep of buildings across the road hadn’t been there.

‘Don’t ask me anything about Bryan O’Shaughnessy,’ he said. ‘I’ll be giving you the same bloody answer he’s been giving me for the last half-hour.’

‘It was a “no comment” interview then?’

‘Here and there. What did you want to see me about?’

She waited for her coffee to cool, took a sip and set the cup back on the saucer. ‘There was a murder in Ragmullin earlier this week.’

‘Yes, I know. Awful business.’

‘A man who knew the victim is now AWOL. Robert Hayes. He’s a chef in a local Ragmullin eatery. The thing is, it’s believed he was originally from Galway.’

‘A lot of people are originally from Galway.’

‘I’m trying to help you here.’ She wouldn’t rise to his sarcasm.

‘And how can this help me, pray tell?’

‘You’re an arsehole, Mooney. You know what, forget it.’ She stood.

‘Sit down and drink your coffee. I apologise. I’m stressed and getting nowhere.’

‘Bryan isn’t a viable suspect, is he?’

‘Nice try.’

‘Can’t blame me for that.’ She sat back down.

‘Tell me more about this Ragmullin chef.’ He sipped his coffee. Froth lingered on his moustache.

‘As I said, he’s from Galway…’ She paused, trying to think what Kirby had told her. ‘Or maybe he just worked here at one stage. I thought he might be worth looking into.’

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