“Tell me about her before that.”
“I always felt a little sorry for her,” she said. “Colleen was so pretty and so lovable and so outgoing. Just because Kathleen was shy and hung back, they thought she was stupid. But I always felt she was deep. She observed. She thought things through. And she seemed content to let Colleen have the limelight. That’s why I was so surprised that she deliberately pushed her sister, because one thing seemed certain to me and that was that the twins adored each other. They were more like a unit than like two people. They even spoke in their own funny language, you know. It sounded ridiculous but it made sense to them.”
“Can you remember who saw Kathleen push her sister?”
She frowned, thinking. “All I remember is the scream, then a man’s voice saying, ‘She pushed her,’ and then tables were overturned, there was chaos, and we were all running to the cliff edge.”
“Was the whole family together at tea?”
“I believe so. We usually gathered for tea on warm afternoons. Uncle Brian, Aunt Mary, my mother, Archie. I think my father arrived later. Yes, because he asked, ‘Is the tea still hot?’ I don’t remember Terrence, and I’m not sure about Uncle Pat—but yes, he must have been there because he was first to the cliff after the scream. I believe he was the one who said ‘she pushed her.’ Then Irene came running up from somewhere when we heard the scream.”
“And Sam?”
She paused, then shook her head. “No, Sam was not there and when he finally joined us, I remember that he looked—well, flustered.” She turned to stare at me. “What are you trying to prove? That one of us pushed the child off the cliff? It’s absurd. She was adored. We all loved her. Her death almost broke the family apart. Irene’s never been the same since. Uncle Brian suffered deep melancholy … in fact I believe that was what started his drinking.” She started to move away from me. “No, Mrs. Sullivan. You should leave this alone. Bringing it up to this family would only open old wounds and frankly you are barking up the wrong tree.”
Thirty-one
I set off for New York City in the gray light of dawn. I had slipped out of bed without waking Daniel and dressed in the bathroom. I had mentioned to Mrs. Sullivan the night before that I was going to see if I could arrange transportation to get Daniel back to New York, as I felt he’d recover faster in his own bed. She agreed with this sentiment and promised to take good care of her son until I returned. Sid and Gus had agreed to come over to keep Daniel company if necessary, so I felt he was in good hands.
It was a pretty journey along the coast with wisps of fog clinging to marshes and inlets, flights of wild duck rising into the dawn sky and small fishing boats going out to the ocean to be swallowed into mist. On another occasion I would have enjoyed just watching the scenery go by. but I was wound tighter than a watch spring. I was taking a huge risk, going to New York with no particular destination in mind and with little hope of accomplishing anything. When I thought of the family I had to agree with Eliza. Brian Hannan was more valuable to them alive than dead. Again I toyed with the idea of the outsider. There was still that man at the gate. He had obviously come from New York and seemed to have followed Brian Hannan from there. But if he wanted to see him so badly why not see him before he left for Newport? Was it possible he had been sent to kill Alderman Hannan by someone who wanted him out of the way?
I considered Tammany Hall and that overheard remark that they were relieved Hannan was no longer around to meddle in the election of Charlie. Had Charlie Murphy sent someone to follow Brian Hannan and make sure he never returned to New York? It seemed like a good possibility, but one that I could never hope to prove. That would have to wait for Daniel. He had the influence and the clout to get the truth out of tough Irish political bosses. I would be brushed away like an annoying gnat.