The Doll's House

‘I doubt it, Detective Inspector. Keith Jenkins moved on from the likes of my brother a long time ago.’


‘Rumour has it they were still in touch.’

‘I wouldn’t know about that.’

‘Someone killed your brother, Deborah,’

‘I’m aware of that, Detective Inspector. Now, I think I’ve spoken to you both for long enough.’





The Mansion House, Dawson Street


The breeze made the voice at the other end of the phone difficult to hear. After his conversation with Stevie McDaid the previous evening, he knew he needed to put more pressure on Martin. His brief interlude with Ruby McKay hadn’t been the wisest decision on his part, but he had every intention of keeping his cool. The heavies had served to keep McDaid somewhat in check. That pretty-boy face of his hadn’t aged too badly, but he hadn’t looked too pretty after the lads were finished with him.

He pulled up the collar of his heavy cashmere coat, bringing it tight around his neck. His leather-gloved hand held the mobile phone close to his ear, watching his breathing make smoke signals in the chill of the afternoon. In a low but determined voice he said, ‘Martin, it’s good to talk to you again.’

‘What do you want?’

‘We have another fish out for a swim.’

‘Who?’

‘Stevie McDaid. You do remember him? You two were quite friendly once, if my memory serves me right.’

‘What does he want?’

‘What does his kind ever fucking want, Martin?’

‘Money?’

‘Of course bloody money. He has no idea how dangerous his meddling could be for him.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘You’re not going all nervous on me now, are you?’

There was silence at the other end of the phone, Martin taking his time answering. ‘I’m no bloody coward. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not that.’

‘Glad to hear it, Martin.’

‘What does McDaid have on you?’

‘Never mind. There’s no need for you to worry about McDaid for now. I’ve sent him on a little errand.’

‘So what do you want me to do?’

‘Just warning you to be careful. Sit tight, stay fucking calm, and keep your mouth shut.’

‘I’m good with secrets. You know that too.’

‘Well, keep it that way, Martin.’

‘What do the cops know about the killings?’

‘They’ve connected Gahan with Jenkins, nothing a rookie out of training college wouldn’t be able to do.’

‘And that’s it?’

‘They’re doing some digging. Don’t worry about that either. I’ll keep you posted. That’s not why I rang you.’

‘What is it, then?’

‘Make sure you’re still keeping a good eye on that wife of yours.’

‘She’s getting shakier by the day.’

‘Is she hitting the booze again?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Well, keep close to her.’

‘I have it under control.’

‘Good to hear it. Keep it that way.’

Hanging up, he took a long look at the historic building in front of him, before sprinting up the stone steps. He may have been in his sixties, but he wasn’t a man to let age, or anything else, get in his way.





27 Benton Avenue, Ranelagh


Once outside, O’Connor lit a cigarette, dragging on it like it was a much-needed fix. ‘So what did you make of her, Kate?’

‘I think Deborah Gahan was telling us as much truth as she was prepared for us to hear. You don’t become a successful businesswoman like her without knowing how to play your cards close to your chest.’

‘So you think she’s still hiding something?’

‘She knew an awful lot, O’Connor, to not get how Keith Jenkins fits into all this of late.’

‘I agree.’ When his mobile phone rang, he kept his gaze on Kate while he answered it. ‘What? He’s sure?’ O’Connor’s expression was changing from agitation to stern determination, a look he often displayed when something in the investigation had shifted.

‘What is it, O’Connor?’

‘That was Lynch. It turns out Jimmy Gahan was dead going into the water. Heart attack, brought on by the shock of the stabbing.’

‘What exactly did Morrison tell Lynch?’

‘Well, apparently with drowning it’s often a diagnosis of exclusion, meaning Morrison began by determining what didn’t happen. Unlike Jenkins, there was no evidence of diatoms in the bloodstream. Nor did he find any sign of pressure trauma on the sinuses or the lungs. He would have expected to find haemorrhaging in the sinuses and airways …’ O’Connor hesitated as if he was still trying to take the information in.

‘Go on.’

‘Morrison also checked for water debris, which Jimmy Gahan would have sucked in, attempting to breathe. Again he came up blank. Once drowning was ruled out as the cause of death, Morrison looked elsewhere. Jimmy Gahan suffered severe heart failure, and was a dead man before taking his plunge.’

‘But the killer still put him in the canal?’ This time it was Kate’s turn to ponder.

‘What are you thinking, Kate?’

‘We’re back to the water connection, and it could also explain something else.’