The Doll's House

Lynch had no luck in finding Ozzie Brennan, and Kate had finally gone to bed in the early hours of Tuesday morning. After she’d dropped Charlie to school, she felt a sense of relief at being back at Ocean House. Somehow, within the confines of her office routine and the interaction with others, she could put her failed marriage and Charlie’s vulnerability temporarily behind her. There was a time when she might have phoned her mother and talked to her about Charlie. That hadn’t been an option since her mother’s death last year, or for a very long time, the Alzheimer’s having stolen her mother’s mind long before death finished off the task.

Kate scrolled down her appointments for the day, then contacted the social worker attached to Imogen’s case confirming the family appointment for the following morning. If nothing else, after the consultation Imogen’s family would have a better understanding of her condition. The girl had enough to deal with without having to educate those around her.

Kate had asked Lynch to let her know as soon as Ozzie Brennan turned up. She received his call shortly before midday. Before leaving her office, she glanced at a framed photograph of her, Declan and Charlie on the desk. It already felt as if what they’d had together was something in the distant past.

Lynch had located Ozzie a couple of quays up from Ocean House. It was easier for Kate to get there on foot than by driving. Dublin, like all major cities, had a serious problem when it came to people living on the streets, with a couple of thousand people putting their heads down every night to sleep in a place none would ever call home. Kate had come into contact with the homeless community as part of her work for Ocean House, and all her previous encounters had told her the same thing: most homeless people had no desire to live on the streets, and the continuing government policy was solving little. With the demise of the Celtic Tiger, and the purse strings getting tighter, any improvements would be extremely low on anyone’s agenda. Homeless people didn’t vote, so they were about as important to certain elected politicians as the city’s ever-growing waste problem.

It was still too early to tell how the murder of Jimmy Gahan reflected on the killing of Keith Jenkins, but there was a connection, Kate was sure of it. She couldn’t have left Charlie last night. Visiting crime scenes in the middle of the night was a thing of the past. She would have to depend on the images again, but they were never the same as seeing the scene at first hand. A copycat killing couldn’t be ruled out, but assuming otherwise, the location and method were forming part of the killer’s signature. On the surface, Keith Jenkins and Jimmy Gahan seemed poles apart. But they were connected. It was simply a question of finding out how. Right now, only the killer knew which way the dots were joined, but both men had been chosen for a reason. Their paths had crossed and, considering everything, she was sure O’Connor would come up with something once he’d dug into their earlier backgrounds.

She wondered if it was some kind of personal vendetta. If so, how many targets were on the killer’s list? Again she thought of the location. The second killing had taken place further up the canal, but the killer had taken another risk. Even late at night with low visibility, he could have been seen in such a public place. There was also the time gap with Jenkins. Had the killer stalled? If he had, he had been more focused with Gahan’s murder, meaning he had progressed. Differences happened for a reason.



Ozzie Brennan was the embodiment of life on the streets. Like many of the homeless, he wore multi-layered clothing, had weathered skin, and carried his sense of isolation from regular punters as a given. He was tall and broad, his tossed grey hair, thick beard and moustache in stark contrast to his large pink face. Ozzie’s high forehead now frowned in anticipation of whatever it might be that Lynch and Kate wanted to get out of him. He sat with his legs crossed and arms folded. There were no office walls or furniture, but as far as Kate and Lynch were concerned, to Ozzie Brennan, they were meeting in the middle of his domain.

Despite his confident demeanour, Kate figured he wasn’t very different from many others on the streets. Beneath the surface there would be the same undercurrent of loss, brought about by the lack of somewhere warm, dry and safe to call their own, a proper home. Even if, by and large, most of them kept their feelings hidden.

It was Lynch who started the conversation, filling Ozzie in on how his friend Jimmy Gahan had been killed, how the police were keen to know if there was any connection between his late friend and the celebrity Keith Jenkins. As Lynch continued with the explanation of what had happened, Kate watched Ozzie’s glassy eyes and blank stare, figuring he had probably already heard most of the story.