“I had no idea he was planning to hold a family reunion at the same time. It came as a surprise to me, too,” Daniel said. “We came here expecting the place to ourselves and a quiet time.” I stared down at the carpet, not wanting to catch Daniel’s eye. But he went on calmly enough, “Where is the alderman, anyway? Why this meeting without him?”
“The alderman’s body was discovered lying half submerged in water on the rocks below the cliff this morning,” the police chief said evenly.
Daniel was instantly on his feet. “Who found the body?”
“Young Samuel did,” the plump woman said. “Came back to me in a terrible state.”
Daniel focused his gaze on the skinny youth. “And you are?”
“Sam,” the boy said. “Sam McCloskey, sir.”
“A member of Brian Hannan’s family?”
“He’s my grandson,” the large lady said. “I’m Mary Flannery, and Joe, Pat, and Brian are my brothers—were my brothers,” she corrected and crossed herself. “Samuel is the oldest of my daughter’s children. She married herself a no-good drunkard and she’s trying to raise eight children more or less single-handed so Brian had taken young Sam under his wing. Very fond of him, he was. And the other way around too. The boy has been quite beside himself all morning.”
Indeed young Sam was ashen faced and did look as if he was in shock. But then they all did. Irene’s eyes were red and swollen as if she had been crying. Now she just sat perfectly still, not moving a muscle and staring blankly at the unlit fireplace.
“You found the body at what time?” Daniel asked, moving toward the youth.
“I don’t know the exact time, sir.” Sam muttered. “I think I heard the grandfather clock chime six before I went out.”
“What were you doing out at that hour?” Daniel asked.
“Excuse me, Captain Sullivan,” Chief Prescott cut in, “but may I remind you that we are not in New York City and this is not your case. If anyone asks questions it will be me. Is that clear?”
“Certainly,” Daniel said, going back to his chair. “I’m sorry. Force of habit. I’ll let you get on with it then.”
“What were you doing out alone at that hour, son?” the chief asked.
“Going fishing,” the boy said. “My grandpa taught me how to fish. He said early morning was the best time.”
“My late husband, he means,” Mary Flannery said. “He taught the boy to fish off the docks in the city. We lived near the East River.”
“So you were going fishing,” the chief went on. “Go on.”
“I went and got a rod and line from the shed and then I decided to go down to the rocks and get some mussels for bait. I got to the edge of the cliff and I saw something on the rocks. To start with I thought a seal or a whale was lying in a tide pool. It wasn’t quite light, you see. I was really excited. I’d never seen a seal or a whale close up like that before.” He looked around for confirmation.
“Go on, boy,” Chief Prescott said.
“And then I saw the hand floating in the water and it was a human hand. So I ran along the cliff until there’s the place where we can climb down and—well, I just thought it was a body fallen off a boat or something. I never expected…” He broke off as his voice choked. “Then a wave came in and lifted the head and I saw that it was Uncle Brian.”
“What did you do then?”
“Tried to help him, of course. In case he was still alive. I made my way out to him through the waves. But then I saw his eyes, just staring and his face all beaten up and I knew he was dead.”
He put his hand up to his mouth and tried to swallow back the sob.
“Pull yourself together, boy,” Joseph said. “You’re almost a man. Men don’t cry.”
“Hush up, Jo. The boy’s had a horrible shock. You know how fond he was of Brian,” Father Patrick said gently. “It’s all right, boy. It’s good to grieve for those we loved.” I looked at him—a softer, kinder face than Joseph’s but also one that had known suffering, I decided.
“We’ve all had a shock,” Joseph said. “A terrible shock.”
“And we’ve all lost someone we loved,” Irene said. “But then some of us more than others. He was my father, you know.”
“We’re not debating who has the greatest claim to love him,” Joseph said shortly.
“Please, please.” Chief Prescott held up his hand. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re just trying to get at the facts here. Go on, boy. What did you do after you saw it was Brian Hannan and he was dead?”
“I came running straight back to the house and I woke my grandma.”
“And I got dressed and went to see for myself, because the boy has been known to pull a prank or two before now,” Mary Flannery said, patting the boy on his knee for reassurance. “And there he was, the poor man, lying in the surf, just like the boy said. I came straight back to the house and went to wake my brothers.”
“Has a coroner or a physician been summoned?” Daniel asked.
“He has,” Prescott replied. “Not that there’s anything we can do for the poor fellow.”
“So we don’t yet know how long he’d been lying there,” Daniel said.