Page 34 of The Dead Come to Stay
“He quit, you mean?”
“I don’t think he meant to, and it’s no way to tender resignation, anyway. I told him to have a cool off at the weekend; we’d talk about it more later. He agreed, still heated, and left. That’s all.”
“What time did he go?” MacAdams asked.
“It wasn’t even five.”
“Anyone verify that?”
“Doubtful,” Burnhope said. “I let everyone leave at 4:00 p.m.; a number of them were invited to the charity ball.”
“For refugees,” MacAdams said. “I understand your nanny is one.”
“Maryam. Yes.” Burnhope’s brows darkened a moment. “You say that as though it’s an accusation, Detective.”
“Not to worry,” MacAdams said dryly. “Ms. Wagner has already given me a detailed report on why it’s aboveboard.”
“I see.” Burnhope stood up and adjusted his sport coat, a clear signal the meeting was coming to an end. “You’re one of those who think charity begins at home, I suppose? No hiring of immigrants?”
MacAdams stood, though in other respects remained unmoved. “Did Ronan Foley ever take part in the charity?”
Burnhope’s hackles smoothed again. He led the way to the lift.
“Detective, I don’t want to speak ill of the dead. But Foley was not the sort to do charity work. He worked like a dynamo, was a good job lead. But I did not have apersonalrelationship with him.”
“And you clearly kept him away from your family,” MacAdams said.
“I suppose? Work-life separation. There wasn’t a reason for him to meet Ava.” He frowned again. “Has the obituary been printed? I haven’t yet made an announcement to the staff. Our secretary should be told.”
“I think my DS may have taken care of that,” Macadams suggested when the lift announced itself. He held it with his foot and pulled out his notepad again. “One more thing. This is the number we have for Foley. Did he have any others?”
Burnhope scanned the yellow pad.
“Not that I know of, I’m afraid. It’s the one I’ve got for him.”
“And it’s always been the same, has it?”
Burnhope’s hooded eyes narrowed. “Since he started with us, yes. Why ask?”
MacAdams declined to give a reason. Instead, he entered into the glass coffin and descended to the ground floor. Green had migrated to the sitting area behind the fountain with Ms. Simmons, who appeared to be weeping openly. She looked up as they approached, dabbing at her mascara with a handful of tissues.
“Oh it’s so awful,” she hiccupped.
“It’s a great shock,” he agreed as Green got to her feet.
“Thank you for your time, Ms. Simmons,” Green said, though her eyebrows suggested a great deal more. “If you think of anything else, you can call.”
“Trisha,” she said, taking Green’s card. “Thank you.”
***
Once outside, Green let out a long breath.
“That was alotmore emotional than I expected.”
MacAdams ears pricked. “Go on.”
“Well, most people I spoke to knew who he was; he definitely turned up here plenty, but I gather his was the away-game, on-site sort of thing. But shite, when I asked Trisha Simmons, she just completely fell apart.”
