Page 66 of Charlie
“No, he’s a widower, we know.” The female detective took a seat without being asked to. “But you were married to Sandra Hamilton for seven months before she committed suicide, isn’t that correct?”
Conor stood with a stoic calmness. “It’s nine thirty at night; why don’t you come back at a better time?”
The old man cleared his throat and spoke with a thick brogue. “Oh, we’re on a busy schedule and try to come by when people are home.”
“Well, I’m happy to set up an appointment and sit down to answer your questions about Sandra at a different time.”
“That won’t be necessary, this won’t take long.” Kit tapped her pen on the pad. “A witness saw you in the bar in Liverpool where Sandra’s body was found; can you confirm that?”
“He’s already been asked those questions years ago and I vouched for him being here and not in Liverpool. Ciara fiddled with her hands. “Nothing has changed, except you got the detail wrong about Sandra being Conor’s wife.”
“No, I’m pretty sure that part is accurate. The insurance company paid out quite a nice sum in her life insurance to her husband, Conor O’Brien,” Kit said in a matter-of-fact tone.
Ciara opened her mouth and closed it again, looking at Conor to deny it.
“Sandra and I had a practical marriage. She wanted a father for her son, Nathan, and I took them both in.”
Kit tapped her pad again. “When you say practical, do you mean there was no sexual relationship between you?”
“Oh, there was sex, but it wasn’t a traditional marriage.”
“You weremarriedto her?” The pain on Ciara’s face was clear, but Conor looked unaffected as he addressed Kit.
“I wasn’t there when Sandra died, but she left a note and begged me to raise Nathan as if he was my own. I’ve kept true to her wish.”
“So how come ye were seen carryin’ out the boy from the bar that night?”
“That’s impossible. As I said, I was here. Ciara already confirmed it.”
Ciara’s hands were shaking and her lips disappeared, leaving only a thin line in a face full of tension.
Kit turned her head and spoke to Ciara. “It looks like there might be video evidence of Conor bein’ with Sandra that night. It’s crucial that ye tell the truth or ye could get implicated in Sandra’s murder.”
The accusation was ludicrous and to my relief, Ciara was quick to defend our mentor and friend. “There was no murder. Sandra was mentally unstable and killed herself. Why would I lie about Conor’s whereabouts? I’m telling the truth.” Her words came out in a small hiss as she raised an eyebrow at Conor. She didn’t say the words, but her eyes shouted,Unlike you.
It surprised me that she didn’t show more trust in him. Conor was the most trustworthy person I knew. If he’d married Sandra and not told anyone, there had to be a logical explanation for it.
Clearing his throat, Conor leaned back in his seat with a bored expression. It comforted me that he didn’t seem the least bit worried when he asked the detectives, “Who hired you to investigate Sandra’s death and what video evidence would you be talking about?”
“We can’t tell ye who hired us, but it’s someone who cared for Sandra.”
“She killed herself and left me a suicide note. I still have it.”
“Would ye mind showing it to us?” Kit asked.
Conor got up to fetch the letter from a folder and handed it to Kit. After reading it, she placed it on the desk and took a picture with her phone.
Conor kept a standing position next to his chair. “You didn’t answer my question about what video evidence you’re talking about.”
“Oh.” Kit looked up. “We’ve contacted all the stores in the street of the bar to see if they have video surveillance cameras, and some of them did.”
“From seven years ago?” Conor scoffed. “That sounds unlikely.”
“Ye’re right. It’s unusual since most stores delete it after a month or so, but it turns out that one of the owners in that street is a bit of a voyeur, and so anal about his surveillance that he saves snippets from all the way back to when he first got his shop. When we reached out to ask about that night, he happened to have a tape and he said it contains a man carryin’ a child over his shoulder out of the bar. He saved it because it was the same night a woman died in the bar and he always figured there was a connection. Accordin’ to him, he tried to tell the police back then, but they weren’t interested.” Kit leaned forward. “The bloke wouldn’t stop talkin’ when he understood that we’re quare interested.”
Conor leaned on his desk. “Let’s see the tape and you’ll see that I wasn’t that man.”
The tall detective hadn’t said much, but he brushed his left eyebrow, and turned his head. “We’d love to show it to ye, but my son and business associate got delayed in the airport. Ye see, he went to pick it up himself.”
