The Doll's House

‘Go right ahead, Sarah.’ Matthews gave the nod to two male officers at the back to close down the blinds.

The opening images were of blood deposits found on the interior ledge of the canal wall. Sarah Walsh’s voice held everyone’s attention as she flicked through the slides. ‘These blood deposits were in close proximity to where the body was found floating. They are also in line with the eye-witness statement regarding positioning of both men after they exited the car. The angle of blood splatters is relevant. When large drops of blood fall on a hard surface, in this case a concrete ledge, how the splatters form defines the angle of blood loss. Here,’ Sarah Walsh pointed towards the image, ‘when the blood hit the surface, small secondary droplets developed, surrounding the original circular stains formed from the larger ones. Because the smaller droplets hit the surface at angles of less than ninety degrees, these secondary stains are elongated and the tails are clearly visible.’ She paused, allowing everyone to take in the information. ‘These tails indicate the relationship of the body to the surface being somewhere between a thirty-five- or forty-five-degree angle. Meaning the victim was practically lying on the ledge before he was plunged into the canal.’

‘If what you’re saying is true, Sarah,’ O’Connor observed, standing up and walking over to her, ‘the killer used the ledge to support the victim before drowning him, positioning himself on it, making it easier to hold Jenkins under water.’

‘Probably – we’ll be running fibre tests. If the killer knelt on the ledge, we should be able to pull something from it, no matter how minute.’

Butler turned to O’Connor. ‘I’ll want to know what that profiler of yours has to say about this. What’s her name again?’

‘Kate Pearson.’

‘We’ll need her report as of now. Allocate that to O’Connor, will you, Matthews? And, for God’s sake, will someone open those bloody blinds? We might be still in the dark, but we don’t have to make it a permanent state of affairs. Right, O’Connor, get back up here and tell everyone what else you have.’

O’Connor didn’t like being summoned like some unruly teenager, but he did as he was told. The line of command within the force was never questioned, even if the chief super, at times, was the biggest gobshite going.

‘All items of value belonging to the victim were intact from what we can see – cash, credit cards, an expensive watch. Everything was left on the victim, with the exception of his wedding ring, a plain gold band. According to Morrison, the indentation on his finger meant it was worn on a consistent basis.’ O’Connor sat down, but continued talking: ‘We’re getting an image of the ring from the insurers. We’ve also picked up a hotel receipt. The receipt is eight months old. Higgins and Clarke are driving to the hotel now. The receipt belonged to a couple signing in under the name of Salmon. The car-registration details given were false, so the name could be as well. The account was paid in cash, unusual enough in this day and age.’ He cleared his throat. ‘All the CCTV footage is currently being compiled. By the next briefing we’ll have most of what’s out there on Jenkins’s last movements.’

Matthews looked around the room for Harry Robinson. ‘Harry, what have you in on witness statements?’

‘We’ve statements from a couple of a dozen people at Gogan’s pub, and a number from the Caldine on Kildare Street. Nothing major coming out of the Gogan’s statements, but the hotel manager in Kildare Street, a Mr Devoy, seems to have a lot of information on the late Keith Jenkins. I’ve filled DI O’Connor in, but I’ll get a typed copy of everything to you within the hour.’

O’Connor turned to Matthews. ‘I’ll be talking to Mr Devoy. If he likes to talk, I’ll help him by listening. If what the grapevine says about Jenkins’s extra-marital affairs is true, my guess is Mr Devoy will know who the latest models are. The hotel receipt might belong to anyone, but whoever got close to Keith Jenkins in the romance department might give us more information than the family.’

‘When are you talking to the family?’ Butler’s tone carried a hint of warning.

‘French has been with them from early this morning. He’s covered the preliminaries, but there’s nothing jumping out as yet. It’s still early days.’

Butler sounded rattled: ‘Keep it nice and easy with them. They have connections everywhere.’

O’Connor continued, ‘That’s about it for now, except for you, Lynch.’

The young detective looked up at his superior.

‘I’ll need you to fill Kate Pearson in on what we have from here. The rest of you, get out there and get some answers. This unit has a reputation. The word “élite” isn’t simply a label, it’s bloody hard earned.’

If nothing else, Butler allowed O’Connor to have the last word.





Clodagh