Authors: Rob Kitchin
‘Well, he’s not going to remain at large long with every guard in the country looking for him. Give it an hour or so and if he hasn’t turned up then we’ll ask for help from the public. Keep me informed, okay? Remember our pact, Colm. I’ve protected your back on this.’
‘I haven’t forgotten,’ McEvoy said to a dead line. He might have misjudged Brady, but if there was one thing he was sure of, it was that Bishop was going to shunt him to one side and claim the credit for The Raven’s capture. McEvoy would be left holding the responsibility for not arresting him earlier.
His phone rang. ‘McEvoy.’
‘Dermot Brady was brought in for questioning half an hour ago,’ the dispatch controller said. ‘He’s been taken to Harcourt Square. DI Deegan has just started to interview him.’
‘Deegan?’ McEvoy repeated, trying to process the information.
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘Okay, thanks.’ McEvoy terminated the call and pulled up Deegan’s number. It rang once and then swapped to the answer service. He pressed stop immediately and thumbed through his address book looking for Simon Grainger’s number.
‘DS Grainger.’
‘What the hell is going on, Simon?’ McEvoy demanded.
‘I, er, I,’ Grainger floundered. ‘What do you mean?’ he rallied.
‘I mean, why has Dermot Brady been arrested? Why is Charlie Deegan interviewing him? And why wasn’t I feckin’ well told about it?’
‘I, er, we, that is, we, er …’
‘Heads are going to roll here, Simon,’ McEvoy growled. ‘This is a team game and I’m the manager, remember? Have a go at saving yours.’
‘Well, er, we found out that, er, Dermot Brady used to be a student of David Hennessey. Hennessey was his tutor and, er, gave him a character reference at his trial.’
McEvoy set off towards his car. ‘So, Deegan thought he’d pull in Brady, give him a verbal grilling, did he? See if he’d crack?’
‘Well, er, I guess, something like that,’ Grainger admitted. ‘We’ve since discovered emails between Hennessey and Brady. They used to meet up for drinks occasionally when Hennessey came into
Dublin
. The last time was last week. I … I think, DI Deegan already knew that.’
‘He did, did he? Jesus Christ. Which pub, Simon?’
‘The White Horse, it’s on George’s Quay near to Tara Street Station.’
McEvoy opened the car door and slid in. ‘And why hadn’t I been told?’ he asked, starting the engine.
‘He said there was no point disturbing you over a routine enquiry.’
‘Routine enquiry!’ McEvoy said angrily, pulling away from the hedgerow. ‘Why the hell wasn’t a full alert put out for Brady?’
‘I … I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know? What do you mean, you don’t know!’ McEvoy exploded. ‘He’s the prime suspect for four murders! For fuck’s sake! He’s killed another person while you’ve been playing games. You know that, don’t you? He burnt the poor bastard to death.’
‘I … I got the impression that DI Deegan knew where he was,’ Grainger said, trying to deflect McEvoy’s wrath.
‘He knew where he was?’ McEvoy repeated. ‘How the hell did he know where he was? Did you have a surveillance team on Brady?’
‘I … I don’t know. I didn’t know about one. Not that …’ Grainger tailed off.
‘Jesus Christ! I’m on my way in to Harcourt Street. Do
not
tell Deegan I’m on my way. I want to hear all this straight from the horse’s mouth and I don’t want him primed. You understand? If you mess with me, Simon, you’ll be in deeper shit than you already are.’ He ended the call.
Fuckin’ Charlie Deegan flying solo; trying to bathe himself in glory – playing God with people’s lives for the sake of easing up the greasy pole a little faster than he would have otherwise. Well his scheming was going to come back and haunt him now. He was going to need all his big-shot friends to save him after McEvoy had finished with him.
Five minutes later his mobile phone rang.
‘Yes?’ he snapped as way of a greeting.
‘Colm, it’s your mother, we’re coming up to Dublin.’
‘What?’ McEvoy said, trying to shift his mind away from Deegan and pulling to a stop.
‘I said we’re coming up to Dublin. Your father is driving us down once we’re packed. I’ve spoken to Caroline and she says you’re not coping, that she’s having to look after Gemma while you’re chasing that lunatic. And well, she and Jimmy are both working and so I said we’d come and help. We’re coming down at the weekend in any case, so it’s not like we’re making a trip that we wouldn’t have.’
‘I’m coping just fine. There’s no need for you to come up.’
‘I’ve seen you on television, Colm. You look terrible. You need a decent meal.’
‘Look, I can’t talk to you right now, Mam. I’ll call you later, okay?’ McEvoy replied, frustrated at his mother’s call. ‘But I don’t want you coming down tonight.’ He ended the call, too angry and preoccupied to negotiate with her.
Deegan left the interview room, clearly frustrated that he’d been disturbed. He bounced through a set of fire doors to discover McEvoy waiting in the corridor.
‘Can’t this wait?’ he snapped at McEvoy.
‘No, it can’t,’ McEvoy stated. ‘What the hell do you think you’re playing at, Charlie?’
‘What do you mean?’ Deegan responded defiantly. ‘I’m not
playing at anything! I’m investigating David Hennessey’s murder.’
‘You’re interviewing Dermot Brady,’ McEvoy said, sidling past Deegan so that he was between him and the interview room. ‘You had him brought in for questioning without informing me.’
‘He’s helping us with our enquiries. It seems he knew Hennessey
quite well. They were good friends. I wanted to talk to him about it, find out about their relationship.’
‘So why the hell wasn’t I told about that?’ McEvoy pressed. ‘You knew that Brady’s name has come up with respect to the murder of Laura Schmidt. You knew that I would be interested, but you kept it to yourself. I’m the senior investigating officer on this case, Charlie, and I need to know what the hell’s happening. You should have rung it through.’
‘I wanted to check it out first,’ Deegan stated, shifting his weight, knowing that McEvoy was right. ‘No point bothering you over nothing.’ He stared at McEvoy, his mouth a tight line.
‘How did you find Brady?’ McEvoy asked, changing tack.
‘A guard spotted him getting out of a car and pulled him in. He seemed to be expecting it.’
‘Why was the guard looking for him when an alert hadn’t been put out for his arrest?’ McEvoy asked.
Deegan shifted his gait again and looked over his shoulder along the corridor. He needed to find his accomplice and prime him before McEvoy got to him. ‘Look, what does it matter?’ he tried to reason. ‘We’ve got him in custody. That’s the main thing. It’s just a matter of time before he confesses. He
is
the sick fuck that killed our three victims. We both know that.’
‘How did the guard know you were looking for Brady?’ McEvoy continued. ‘And how did he know where to look? Did you have Brady under surveillance?’
‘What?’ Deegan exclaimed, feigning surprise and hurt. ‘I’m trying to help solve a murder invest …’
‘Why didn’t you put out a full alert for Dermot Brady, Charlie?’ McEvoy interrupted loudly, his voice becoming angry. ‘You knew there was a solid connection between Dermot Brady and David Hennessey. You also knew that Brady was out at Glencree when Laura Schmidt died and that a third victim was killed last night. You knew that you needed to bring Brady in, but you didn’t put out a full alert. Why?’
‘If you hadn’t dropped the surveillance on Brady, we could have saved the woman in the Phoenix Park,’ Deegan countered heatedly, trying to fight his way out of a corner.
‘That might be so,’ McEvoy admitted, ‘but if you’d put out an alert this morning we might have saved the old man out at Rathmoylan. I made a mistake. You failed to follow procedure. You were flying solo, Charlie.’
A look of concern flashed across Deegan’s face. It was enough to tell McEvoy that he didn’t know about recent developments. He didn’t know about the death of Billy Mullins.
‘That’s right,’ McEvoy hissed. ‘While you were feckin’ about trying to cover yourself in glory, he killed a fourth victim. Burned his house down; cremated the poor bastard. You’ve fucked up big time, Charlie. You’re practically an accessory to murder, letting him run round when you thought you’d got him pegged for three murders.’
‘That’s bollocks and you know it,’ Deegan spat with bravado, trying to save himself. ‘You’re just sore because I caught the fucker first. You’re a has-been, Colm. You know it, I know it, and soon the chief super will know it.’ Deegan moved to walk past McEvoy back toward the interview room.
McEvoy’s arm shot out blocking his path. ‘I’m sore because you fucked up. I’m in charge of this case and as of now you’re suspended. You hear me? Suspended. I might be a has-been, but by the end of today I’ll still have my job.’
Deegan looked over at McEvoy, anger and confusion in his eyes. He tried to brush McEvoy’s arm away, but it stayed in place.
McEvoy held his stare. ‘You’re off the case, Charlie. There’ll no doubt be a disciplinary hearing. My advice is to tell the truth and plead for forgiveness. You’ll be out of here, but they might just retain you in uniform. Now get out of my sight and stay away from this investigation.’
Deegan dropped his gaze, turned on his heels and walked away. He pushed open a set of fire doors and continued along the corridor to the stairwell.
McEvoy blew out a long breath of air, trying to keep his anger and stress in check. He could feel his pulse throbbing in his temples. A couple of yards along the corridor a door opened. A head peaked out and withdrew quickly. McEvoy clicked off the small, digital recorder in his pocket. It paid to have evidence if you were going to tangle with Deegan. He had influential friends.
McEvoy pushed open the door and entered the interview room. A detective constable standing opposite tried his best to hide his confusion, wondering why Deegan hadn’t returned. McEvoy pulled out a chair and sat across from Brady.
Brady looked defeated, his eyes fixed on the table. McEvoy popped Deegan’s cassette from the tape recorder, pocketed it, and replaced it with a new cassette. He started the recorder.
‘Did you really think you were going to get away with it, Dermot?’ he asked, his hand sneaking back into his jacket pocket, a fingernail plucking at the cigarette box. ‘Did you really think you could pull off several murders when you weren’t even following your own rules?’
Brady didn’t respond.
‘Four lives. Five if you count the unborn baby. You might have got away with it last time, but there’s no way you’re getting off the hook now. It’ll be life, and life will mean life. They’ll throw away the key. You’re the most hated man in Ireland. I’ll be surprised if you last a couple of months inside after what you’ve done.’
Brady raised his head and looked at McEvoy with dead eyes.
‘Where were you this lunchtime, Dermot?’
After a long pause, Brady answered. ‘I was in Trim at a meeting. A social welfare meeting. Everyone there can vouch for me. I wasn’t wherever you think I was. There were 20 different people there; they’ll all confirm I was there.’
‘In Trim?’ McEvoy repeated, nodding.
‘Yes. At a meeting. It was about rural homeless services. A friend lent me a car so I could get there.’
‘Despite the fact that you no longer drive,’ McEvoy said sardonically. ‘Couldn’t bring yourself to after killing the young mother and her child.’