Page 42 of The Dead Come to Stay
“Well, first off, Evan’s full name is Errol Evan Jacob Evans, and that reallyoughtto be a fake name, but isn’t. Second, he identified Foley’s photo. Said that Foley was a well-paying regular customer from Manchester,witha wife, and expecting a kid.”
MacAdams sat straighter. “Come again? Arianna never said anything about that—”
“Arianna knows as much about pregnancy as a sentient vacuum cleaner,” Green said.
It was by far the weirdest insult MacAdams had ever heard, but somehow managed to convey both an empty center and being full of it, while preserving the basic premise that she sucked. Impressive, to be honest.
“Details, Green.”
“Evans noticed that Mrs. Connolly-not-Foleywasn’t looking well the last time they stayed—which was two weeks ago, in the Empire Suite. He asked Foley about it privately, and he said they were expecting but it was early days.”
“Damn.”
“Right? Except—and here is where things get interesting—Evans said heknewConnolly was a false name. And he suspected they weren’t married.” Green sat back triumphantly; she knew this was a nibble MacAdams couldn’t resist. He’d already produced his notepad.
“Wait, okay, let’s start with the name. How could heknowConnolly was false?”
“Google it,” Green encouraged. “I just did. Nathanial Connolly is the lead guitarist for the Belfast band Snow Patrol.”
“Fuck.” No wonder it sounded familiar. “Okay, what were Evans’s expert deductions about their marital status?”
“Well, for a start, why a false name? But Evans also thought the age difference was suspicious. Matter of opinion, obviously. He assumed Foley was a married man courting a younger woman on the side with money and presents.”
“Astute, except we have no record of Foley being married. Arianna told me that he doted on his maybe-wife, assumed they were newlyweds. Seemed to find him charming.”
“Evans didn’t. He described him as...” Green thumbed her own notes. “A well-monied and uncultured plebian.”
“Oh of course,” MacAdams groaned. Evans had always been a status chaser, the toady of their old boss Admiral Clapham, but also an obsequious slave to title and nobility. “But he obviously paid court to Foley’s pocketbook. He knows the man is a liar, suspects him of philandering, doesn’t do any background checks beyond making sure the written ones don’t bounce. Does that cover it?”
“Just about.”
“That, Detective Sergeant, is why Evans was Clapham’s man.”
“Boss. Clapham is over and gone.”
“The case is, yes. But that doesn’t mean the Abington Arms has changed its ways. Fill up the hotel with guests who look the part, ask no questions, look away when necessary...” MacAdams trailed off. Green was right, though. They had enough going with the current, active murder. They didn’t even have a motive yet. He peered through the glass to where Gridley sat; she noticed and waved with enthusiasm. Hopefully it meant she’d found something they could use.
“Guess what?” she asked when they returned to the common room. “Struthers says he can lift DNA from the scarf; there was a hair on it. It’s not a match for Foley, appears to be darker. Dowe want to get a swab from the colleague he took care of, Trisha Simmons?”
“I’d rather get a swab from Burnhope,” MacAdams said.
Green blinked at him. “You think Stanley Burnhope is the mystery woman? I mean. No judgment. But it’s not his color.”
“AvaBurnhope,” he corrected, though he would like to have Stanley’s, too—why not? The answer being, of course, Stanley and Ava would have to submit willingly to a rather intimate ask despite having watertight alibies and friends in parliament.
“You’re serious?” Green asked. “You suspect Ava?”
MacAdams examined the incident board (with now-cold coffee). “Foley has a lady friend, but doesn’t tell anyone about it. They sneak around. He wouldn’t have to sneak with the secretary, would he?”
“Ah shite.” Green scrunched up her nose. “That’s a bit of a drop, isn’t it? For a woman like Ava? Slumming it, almost.”
“Not impossible, though, is it?” MacAdams asked.
Green chewed her lip. “Okay, I’ll walk with you on this a minute. She could have affairs with anyone, why choose Foley—unlessit’s to get under Stanley’s skin. You said he didn’t like the man. But that would still makeStanleythe prime suspect, wouldn’t it?”
“Only if he knew about it,” MacAdams said.
“Knowing is the point of revenge affairs, boss.”
