PASSION KILLER
Yvonne McEvaddy
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2012 Yvonne McEvaddy
About the author
Yvonne
McEvaddy lives and works in Headford, Co. Galway, Ireland. She
was first published under her maiden name, Yvonne Gaughan, at the age
of 17 when she won a Western Health Board competition to have her
essay published in 100 Natural Highs.
Also as Yvonne
Gaughan, in college she was a member of the Mystic Poets Society and
had two poems published in their collaboration, Mystic Spirits.
Yvonne McEvaddy attends creative writing classes facilitated by Susan
Millar DuMars and is a member of the Javawriters group. Passion
Killer is her first novel. Her second novel, Shadows of the Dead,
will be published later this year. She is currently writing her third
novel, Thief of Hearts.
Copyright
Yvonne McEvaddy owns the rights of the material in this book. It must not be copied or reproduced in any format without the permission of the author.
This novel is a work of fiction. All characters and events are fictional and any similarity to persons living or dead or any events that may have happened is purely coincidental.
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank my husband, Matt, for all his technical support, for being my first reader and always supporting me and believing in me. My thanks go to my mother, Mary, sisters, Martina and Fiona, and brother Fergal for being among my first readers and giving me excellent feedback. I wish to thank Susan Millar DuMars for reading my manuscript and giving valuable feedback, also for the classes she facilitates which are so much more than writing classes. A big thank you goes out to RJ Samuel, whose advice and encouragement has been invaluable. My heartfelt thanks go to all in the Javawriters group for providing me with a bit of insanity in the face of reality, and a bit of sanity when the world is too insane. Thanks to all the members of the Mystic Poets society for all the mad times in college which provided much inspiration. I wish to thank Garda Peadar Brick for providing me with information on police procedures. Any mistakes made in that regard are my own. I also wish to thank solicitor Noel Rhatigan for giving me advice on matters of criminal law that I was otherwise unaware of. I owe a big thank you to optician Colm O’Mahony for reintroducing me to the joys of the written word when my eyes failed me. Finally, thank you to all who have encouraged my love of reading and writing over the years.
Dedication
I dedicate this book to the memory of my father, Sean Gaughan, who always got a kick out of my school essays. I like to think he’s looking down on me now with that light of laughter in his eyes.
CHAPTER ONE
Tuesday the 16th of September
Alex took a seat in the interview room and looked around at his surroundings. The walls were a non-descript color, almost grey. The room was furnished only with a table and four chairs. He leaned forward and placed his forearms on the table and, as it wobbled, immediately sat upright in his chair, trying different positions in order to get comfortable. There was a camera in the corner of the room pointed to where he was seated opposite Detectives Barbara Molloy and Mick Naughton.
Detective Molloy informed him that the interview would be recorded and stated for the record the time, date and people present. She then asked, “Why don’t you tell me about your relationship with Sylvia?”
“We’ve been friends for a long time, very good friends.”
“There’s more to your relationship than just friendship, am I right?”
“There has been, yes, but not for a while now. When I knew how serious she was about Rick I moved on. It was convenient before that. I was in love with her; I don’t deny that. When neither of us had any ties it was convenient for us to be together, but when Rick came on the scene I knew it was the end of the line for a romantic relationship between Sylvia and I.”
“How did that make you feel?”
“Not like murdering Rick if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“I don’t see the relevance of this line of questioning. If you want to question me on suspicion of murder I believe I have the right to have my solicitor present.” Alex glanced over to where Detective Naughton sat taking notes, and wondered if he was going to intervene, but the other detective didn’t even look up from his notebook.
“Of course you have the right to representation. However, if you have nothing to hide you have no need to have a solicitor present,” Detective Molloy said.
“I have absolutely nothing to hide. I just don’t want my feelings twisted and construed as a motive.”
“For the moment this questioning is just a formality. If you insist on bringing a solicitor into it I may just have to arrest you on suspicion of murder.”
Alex sat up straight in his chair and steepled his hands in front of him as he said, “I won’t be bullied. As my friends and I are doing you a favor by co-operating, I don’t think it’s too much to ask that we not be treated as suspects.”
“It’s Sylvia you’re doing the favor for, not us. Of course it benefits us, but it’s in the interest of Sylvia, and Rick’s family, that this investigation gets underway as soon as possible. I’m merely asking about your feelings towards Sylvia. You’re the one implying that your feelings make you a murder suspect. Now why is that?” Detective Molloy sat back in her chair and said, “Alex, let me clear things up here. I am aware that you and Sylvia have feelings for one another. I want background information on all of Rick and Sylvia’s friendships and relationships, including work related relationships. This is all just a formality to see if something someone says may lead to a clue. I don’t have any suspects at present; therefore I don’t see any reason for any hostility or any solicitor involvement. So will you please just answer my question? I repeat, how did you feel when Sylvia and Rick entered into a serious relationship, knowing there could no longer be a future for the two of you?”
Although Alex felt that he should involve his solicitor he had no wish to be arrested. He suspected that Detective Molloy was bluffing, but didn’t want to take any chances and so thought that it would be best to just co-operate. He raked his hand through his dark blonde hair so that it stood on end. “I just decided it was time to move on. I was happy for Sylvia, a little disappointed for myself, but I knew that if we weren’t meant to be then there was nothing I could do about it,” he said.
Detective Molloy raised her eyebrow and asked, “Wasn’t there?”
“I resent the implication.”
“What implication is that? You disappoint me, Alex; surely Sylvia was worth putting up a fight for. No grand romantic gestures?” Her eyebrows leveled out once more.
“No, I knew the best thing to do was to just let her go.”
“Any regrets about that?” Detective Molloy asked.
“Of course I’ve had plenty of ideas for getting her back and moments of regret about not following through, but she’s seen plenty of my romantic side over the years so I know it wouldn’t have made a difference. Once she made her decision I just had to accept it.”
“Did you find that hard to do?”
“No, not really; it’s not as if she was ever mine to lose so I just had to continue with life the way I always have when she was with another guy. My only regret is that she has to go through what she’s going through now.”
“Underneath it all you must feel some sense of satisfaction though. After all, she’s free now to be with you when she gets over this.”
“I haven’t even been thinking about that,” replied Alex. He glanced over at Detective Naughton again, but all he heard from him was the pen scribbling across the page of his notebook. “How could you suggest such a thing? How could I possibly be feeling any sort of satisfaction when a friend and work colleague is dead, not to mention that Sylvia is so miserable? I’d want to be a cold-hearted bastard to feel satisfaction over that.”
Detective Molloy raised an eyebrow again. “It stands to reason that with Rick out of the way you can now get the girl. I don’t for one minute believe that the thought never entered your head.”
“Believe it or not, since I heard of Rick’s death I haven’t been thinking about myself, but about Sylvia and how awful this is for her.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“I don’t like the tone of this interview. I really would feel more comfortable having my solicitor present.” Alex had already taken his mobile phone out and dialed his solicitor’s number. He wasn’t going to take no for an answer this time. Screw this bitch, he thought as he listened to the dial tone. He was furious with the way the detective’s mind was working and hoped his solicitor would help to rein in her line of questioning.
“Could I speak to Jim O’ Laughlin please?” While he was waiting for his solicitor to come to the phone, Alex said to the detectives, “I suppose some privacy is out of the question?”
“Of course not; we’ll just go and get some coffee,” Detective Molloy said.
When Jim came on the phone Alex explained the situation to him and asked him if he could come down to the Garda station at his earliest possible convenience. Jim consulted with his secretary, and after juggling around his schedule a bit said he’d be right there. Alex hung up the phone but couldn’t quite feel any sense of relief that his solicitor would be joining him. When he thought of how much pain Sylvia was in he just wanted to hold her and protect her. Having to stay in here and be questioned like this was escalating his anger with every passing moment.
While waiting for his solicitor he cast his mind back to the party Sylvia and Rick had hosted the previous Friday.
Cries of “speech, speech,” broke out around the table. In answer, Rick stood up and touched his spoon to his glass to call for silence. He looked down at Sylvia and brushed a few loose strands of her red hair back into place. He stood there looking into her smiling eyes for a moment, and when there was a cough and a meaningful “ahem” muttered in his direction he brought his attention back to the room full of people.
“The only thing I’m happier about than having Sylvia in my life is that we were lucky enough to find this house. We’re both delighted to have you all here tonight to help christen it. Your house warming gift, Kim, of a book of cocktails and a set of shakers will help with that.” This was accompanied by laughter from the dinner guests. When the laughter died down Rick continued, “Dave, I’m going to need your expertise in mixing up those lethal cocktails you’re so famous for.”
There was a chorus of cheers as Dave’s large frame bent in a half bow from where he was seated. “I hope none of you are working tomorrow,” he said with a gleam in his eyes.
Elaine smiled over at her husband, and Gina winced, pursing up her tiny features, obviously in memory of the time she had to go in to work and wait tables after one of their parties. She had told them afterwards that she’d nearly thrown up in someone’s dinner when she couldn’t stomach the smell of the curry she was delivering to their table.
Julie looked nervous, her large brown eyes widening so much that Alex thought they might swallow her petite face, as she looked over at Alex who was licking his lips in an exaggerated manner, in anticipation of the whiskey sours that would soon follow.
Rick smiled in apology at her as well as at Maeve and Noel as he said, “Sorry guys, I should have warned you. You don’t know what you’re in for with Dave. And if you think you can politely refuse to drink his cocktails, you can think again. This guy would charm a saint into an alcohol induced stupor.” There was more laughter at this and Rick took his seat again.
Now, as Alex sat shivering in the interview room, he still found it hard to believe that less than twenty-four hours later Sylvia had found Rick lying dead in the sitting room of their new house. He drummed his fingers on the table and wished his solicitor would hurry up. He just wanted this over with so that he could get back to Sylvia.
CHAPTER TWO
Meanwhile Detective Molloy went to the waiting room where Alex’s friends, Sylvia, Kim and Gina, were waiting for him. She informed them of what was going on.
“Why would he need a solicitor?” Kim asked.
“He didn’t feel comfortable answering the questions without one. It’s his right to have one; it doesn’t make him guilty,” the detective replied.
“What you mean is that he wasn’t comfortable with your line of questioning,” Sylvia said. “Am I right?”
“You may object to my interview technique, but you will see results; I guarantee you that. You all had the right to have a solicitor present.”
“The underlying implication being that as Alex was the only one to call a solicitor he must have something to hide,” responded Sylvia. “Well I, for one, don’t believe it for a moment. Now that I think of it, we should all have brought solicitors with us this morning. Oh I believe all right that you’ll get results and that you’ll solve this crime eventually, but I don’t like your tactics and you’re barking up the wrong tree completely, not to mention wasting time.”
That outburst started Detective Molloy thinking that maybe Sylvia and Alex were in it together. She pondered the fact that there must be a reason Sylvia and Alex had both gotten defensive when confronted about their relationship. Why though? Surely if it was simply a matter of them wanting to be together Sylvia would have just broken up with Rick, which leads to the question of Rick’s insurance, the house and his money. Sylvia could go to Alex a very well off woman. So she was very upset about Rick’s death, what does that really matter? Perhaps she’s just very good at acting. A possibility, she thought, and not one to be dismissed lightly. She remembered having noticed Alex holding Sylvia’s hand and looking at her with an expression of love in his eyes as she called Gina in to be questioned. I mustn’t jump to conclusions, she told herself.
“I just thought you should be aware of the situation. I’m sure Alex would understand if you decided not to wait for him,” the detective said.
“I’d like to talk to him please, and as for not waiting for him, out of the question,” Sylvia said.
“I’m afraid you’ll have to wait until we’re finished questioning him before you can talk to him. I just thought you should know that it could take a while.”
“That’s fine; we’ll wait, won’t we, girls?” Sylvia said.
“Yes, of course we will,” replied Gina.
The detective left the waiting room and went to get some coffee while she waited for Alex’s solicitor to join them.
“Which one of you two mentioned Alex’s feelings for me?” Sylvia asked, as she straightened up in the chair.
“I’m afraid I did,” Kim answered, slumping forward slightly. “I didn’t see the relevance. She asked the questions so innocently, as if we were just having a chat. If I had thought she was going to use that information against him I’d have kept my mouth shut.”
“It doesn’t really matter,” Sylvia sighed. “She’d have found out in the end anyway. She’s good at getting information; I’ll give her that. If she’s as good when it comes to finding the real murderer, then I guess I can’t complain.”
She got up to walk around the room and started to read the posters that were scattered around the walls – road safety, neighborhood watch, victim support groups. She figured that by the time they left she’d have a path well worn between her chair and the coffee machine and would know every word of each of the posters off by heart.
Sylvia cast her mind back to the last night she had spent with Rick and the horror of discovering his body.
On Friday night, after they had seen the last of their guests into a taxi, Sylvia started gathering glasses and sweet wrappers.
“Leave that, love, I’ll get it in the morning,” Rick said as he came up behind her and encircled her in his arms.
Sylvia turned into his embrace and said, “Thanks. I’ll give you a hand before I go into Galway.”
“There’s no need. You head off early so that you’ll be back early.”
Sylvia gave him a look of incredulity. “You do know that no matter how early I go I won’t be home any earlier; I’ll just spend more money.”
Rick laughed and pulled her with him up the stairs. When they got to the bedroom he pulled her to him as he said, “Come here my lovely shopaholic. Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
“Yes, but I think I can stand to hear it again,” Sylvia murmured against his lips as she wound her fingers through his thick wavy brown hair. She wondered, not for the first time, how she had gotten so lucky. She often thought that it must have been something she’d done in a previous existence that had drawn this sweet and loving man into her life.
The next evening, upon arriving home from shopping, Sylvia entered the sitting room and stopped short as she saw a pool of blood seeping out from under the armchair. Dropping her shopping bags where she stood, she rushed over to the armchair. Reaching it she stopped up, afraid of what sight would greet her. She went around to the front of it and screamed.
She dropped to her knees beside the corpse of her boyfriend and took his hand in hers. She lifted his fingers to her lips, her hands going cold as she touched him, her tears falling onto his hand as she looked into his face which was frozen grey in an expression of shock. She didn’t want to think about how horrifying his last moments must have been, but the expression on his face told her that he hadn’t seen the knife coming towards him before it was plunged into his chest. She hoped that death was instant, that he didn’t have time to feel any pain. Later, realization would come to her that he must have felt some pain as the knife tore through skin, flesh, tissue and bone to pierce his heart before it stopped beating, before he stopped feeling.
Sylvia didn’t know how long she knelt at Rick’s side before getting up to ring the guards, but when she did so darkness had fallen. She gave an account of what she had come home to find, but it didn’t sound to her own ears as if it was her voice. It sounded as if she was hearing someone else speaking from a distance, someone broken-hearted whose voice sounded muffled and disjointed. Hanging up the phone, she went to the window, unable to make herself go to Rick’s side again.
Rain pummeled down against the window while Sylvia listened for the Garda car. As the sirens wailed closer to the house she leaned in to the pane of glass, looking into the distance, trying not to see the reflection of the scene in the sitting room behind her, seeing instead the lights of the town a few miles away. As their house was on a hill it afforded them a spectacular view of the town on one side, the lake on the other.
Her gaze moved to the flashing lights of the sirens as she followed their progress up the winding road to the house. When the car came to a stop two guards and what looked like two detectives dressed in suits, emerged from the car, bending their heads against the rain, and she found herself at the door without being sure how she got there.
The introductions were lost on Sylvia. All she could do when asked what had happened was to stammer the response that she didn’t know. She pointed to the sitting room as she collapsed onto the bottom steps of the stairs where she stared into space, not seeing or hearing anything going on around her. She shut herself off from her surroundings so that the hushed conversations of the guards, the arrival of the forensics team, and the hustle and bustle of the crime scene investigations all seemed like they were happening elsewhere.
After some time the female detective joined her and said, “Sylvia, I’m sorry to have to inform you that the man in your sitting room is dead. Did you know him?”
Sylvia stared into the woman’s face with eyes that were glazed over. Of course she knew he was dead, but hearing it confirmed by an official somehow made it real. It gave her a jump back into reality, made the sounds coming from the sitting room closer, made the face in front of her own come into focus.
She stared into the broad, sincere face of the detective and wished she could borrow the strength etched there, from the square jaw line to the solemn grey eyes. She replied, “Yes. Rick, he’s my… was my boyfriend. We were going to spend the rest of our lives together.” Then in between sobs, “How can I live without him?”
The detective who, Sylvia vaguely recalled, had introduced herself as Barbara Molloy asked, “Do you have somewhere to stay while your house is closed off for investigation?”
Sylvia nodded, as she knew she could stay with Elaine and Dave.
“If you’d like to pack a few things now I could take you to where you need to go.”
Sylvia nodded her head again and stood up to go and pack. The detective accompanied her upstairs, but remained silent, as if sensing Sylvia’s need to be alone with her thoughts.
Sylvia tried to make sense of what had happened as she packed her night clothes into a bag, tried to think who could possibly have so brutally murdered Rick. Her mind wandered as she thought about the short history she had shared with him and what her life had been like before him. She wondered if in his last moments his life had flashed before his eyes in a similar fashion.
As she went in to the en-suite bathroom she tried not to look at Rick’s toiletries, didn’t want to think about the fact that she’d never again see him shaving or brushing his teeth. She tried not to feel the pang in her chest triggered by the aroma of his aftershave which hung in the air.
While Sylvia’s mind was wandering she had managed to push all thoughts of Rick temporarily out of her mind, but when her packing was finished she curled up in a ball on their bed and cried as she thought about Rick lying in a pool of blood downstairs. Even though she had seen with her own eyes the knife embedded in his chest, she found it hard to believe that she would never again lie beside him, share her life, hopes and dreams with him.
The detective crossed the room to sit beside Sylvia and stroke her back comfortingly until the sobs subsided. Sylvia cried about how unfair life was. Her Rick was lying dead on their sitting room floor. He had only ever thought about other people, and now he was dead while all around her selfish people continued to live their lives. She cried when she thought about the fact that he would never again hold her in his arms or comfort her. It was him she needed to put his arms around her and tell her it would be all right. Instead all she had was a detective trying to comfort her.
Accompanied by the detective, she walked down the stairs trying not to look towards the sitting room where she knew Rick lay lifeless. Stepping outside into the rain she made her way slowly towards the Garda car, lifting her face in a futile attempt to let the rain wash away her pain. It was something she and Elaine used to do when they were kids – lift their faces to the rain and laugh as their hair, faces and clothes got soaked. This time, however, there was no laughter; Sylvia doubted she would ever laugh again. She would have stood there long enough to get completely soaked as she let the rain mix with the tears running down her face, but Detective Molloy turned towards her and, with an arm around her waist, helped her to the car.
When they arrived at Elaine and Dave’s house, the detective got out of the car with Sylvia to escort her to the front door, which was just as well because Sylvia felt very weak and probably couldn’t have taken two steps without collapsing in a heap on the ground. When Elaine opened the door her face drained of color at the sight of Sylvia being supported by a tall, stocky woman. Detective Molloy introduced herself and explained what had happened, that she would need to talk to Sylvia about it but that she knew it would be best for her to have someone with her and be away from the scene of the crime.
Elaine put her arm around Sylvia and led her into the sitting room to the couch. She held her in her arms as Sylvia cried uncontrollably. After having some tea, sweetened with plenty of sugar to help with the shock, she eventually stopped crying long enough to answer some of the detective’s questions. Elaine excused herself and said she’d be in the kitchen if she were needed.
A little later Detective Molloy left Elaine’s house, none the wiser. Sylvia was in a state of shock and would need time before she could be of any help to the guards. She had answered the questions in a faltering and vague way, had left long silences where her mind seemed to be elsewhere and had been sobbing so much at times that her answers were incoherent. Detective Molloy left her with an assurance that she would be back in the next couple of days in order to ask her some more questions, leaving her phone number in the event of Sylvia thinking of something, anything at all, which may be relevant in helping with the enquiry.
CHAPTER THREE
In the waiting room Kim was lost in her own thoughts, thinking about where she’d gone wrong when being questioned, wondering what had made her mention Alex and Sylvia’s relationship. If she had realized it would make him a suspect she would never have mentioned it.
At the Garda station Alex had taken charge, introducing them all and explaining their reason for being there. The guard on the desk went into the back and while they were waiting they all agreed that it felt strange and rather daunting to be there for such a sinister purpose. Up to then the only reason any of them had for being at the station was to get a form signed and stamped. A few moments later Detective Molloy arrived out to bring them into a back room.
“I’ll question one of you at a time and will be recording the interviews; it shouldn’t take long. It’s just a formality really. There’s a coffee and tea machine here while you wait. If you’ll just come with me?” She motioned for Kim to follow her.
Kim followed the detective into the interview room and observed, “A very dismal room, this. It makes me feel as if I’m actually a criminal, not just helping with an investigation. It’s like as if I’m going to be locked away for a very long time.”
“Well that shouldn’t be the case, unless of course you actually have something to do with this murder,” Detective Molloy replied. Her smile was tight, her humor having a serious edge to it. As Detective Naughton arrived into the room and took a seat opposite Kim, Detective Molloy stated the time, date and people present, and asked, “What was your relationship to the deceased?”
“I’ve known him since he started dating Sylvia. We got on really well. He’s been so good for Sylvia and so good to her. He was such a gentleman I can’t imagine why anyone would want him dead,” Kim said.
“How long have you and Sylvia been friends?” asked Detective Molloy.
“Since I moved to Abbeyfield when I was sixteen.”
“You mentioned that Rick had been good for Sylvia. What did you mean by that?”
“Sylvia’s always been a bit flighty when it comes to men. It was great to see her settling down with someone. We’re all a bit concerned about how this will affect her, you know, finally committing to someone only to have this happen.”
“In what way?”
“It might be hard for her to love someone again. Maybe she’ll go back to her flighty ways.”
“Would that be so bad? Surely there are worse things she could do?”
“Well yes, there are worse things for her but, and I don’t mean this badly because I love her dearly, she has a tendency to hurt men.”
“Any man in particular?”
Kim hesitated briefly, her hand moving up to brush through her short blonde hair, before replying, “I’ve said too much already. This is really something you should be talking to Sylvia about. I don’t want her to think I’m bad-mouthing her. I wouldn’t dare do that, not after all she’s just been through.”
Detective Molloy reached across the table and covered Kim’s hand with her own. “I’m not asking you to speak ill of one of your friends. I’m merely looking for some background; it’s often in the missing links of background that clues are found.”
“That’s all very well, but I just don’t see the relevance of any of this.”
“Kim, you do understand that solving this murder will give your friend closure, don’t you? Surely that’s something you want for her. So please, even if you don’t see the relevance, I would appreciate your co-operation. So I ask again, is there any man in particular that Sylvia may have hurt, even if inadvertently?”
Reluctantly Kim replied, explaining about the relationship between Sylvia and Alex.
“So you’re concerned that with Rick gone Sylvia will go back to Alex. Is he still in love with her?”
“Yeah, he’s still besotted with her.”
“Last Friday night you were at the house of the deceased, were you not?” Detective Molloy asked.
“Yes, it was a dinner party.”
“I’d like you to take a moment to think back to that night. Were there any cross words between any of you or any tension that you can recall?”
Kim took a moment, looking over at Detective Naughton with his head bent over his notebook, pen scribbling away furiously. She then replied that she remembered the night as having been very jovial. “We all had great craic; it’s so hard to believe that it was only a few days ago we were so carefree and happy. None of us would have believed that night that one of us would die the next day.”
Detective Molloy thanked Kim, told her she had been very helpful and that she would be free to go after she’d had her fingerprints taken. Kim breathed a sigh of relief as she went with a guard into the next room for that purpose.
Gina sat in the waiting room thinking about her own experience in the interview room and she felt sorry for Alex that things had taken such a turn for him.
Gina was called in for questioning after Kim.
“Tell me about the relationship between yourself and the deceased.”
“Must you call him the deceased? That sounds so cold,” Gina said.
“Sorry,” Detective Molloy said. “Tell me about the relationship between yourself and Rick.”
“I met Rick after Sylvia started going out with him and warmed to him straight away. He was such a likeable guy and such a gentleman; he always treated Sylvia so well. He was just what she needed to settle her down. This is such a tragedy. I still can’t believe he’s dead.”
“Did all of your friends feel the same way about the, I mean, Rick?”
“Yes, we all loved him.”
“Were you at the dinner party of Sylvia and Rick on Friday night?”
“Yes I was. I had sprained my ankle earlier and didn’t really feel up to it, but Rick convinced me that it wouldn’t be the same without me. That’s the type of guy he was.”
“Would you say he meant that in a flirtatious capacity?”
Gina laughed. “Good God, no. He’s not, em, wasn’t the flirtatious one in that relationship; that was Sylvia’s department. Anyway, I’m gay; Kim and I are a couple.” As she noticed the look of surprise on the detective’s face she said, “Kim didn’t mention that?”
“No she didn’t. Did the evening in question go well?”
“Yes, we had a great time. Little did we know that it would be the last we’d see of Rick.”
“Were there any cross words or looks that night?”
“No, none. Like I said, it was a great night; we all had a great laugh.”
“Did you ever get the feeling that Rick, or indeed any of your friends, had a problem with you and Kim being gay?”
“No, they’ve always been great, very supportive.”
“Always? When did you first realize you were gay?”
“We were twenty-two; Kim and I were just talking over a bottle of wine one night and one thing just led to another. We haven’t looked back since.”
“Had Kim realized before that night that she was gay?”
“No, it came as a surprise to both of us, quite a pleasant one I might add,” she said with a smile.
“It must have been some conversation that led to that realization!”
“Believe it or not we were talking about a guy we both liked. As we got drunker we talked about a threesome and it just led from there.”
“A guy you both liked? Did that come between you at any stage?”
“No, because neither of us stood a chance with him.”
“Why was that? You’re both good looking women.”
“Maybe even then he realized what we hadn’t even realized ourselves yet. I know what you’re thinking, that if he had thought that then he’d surely have made a move to try to get a threesome. That’s not the case; he’s probably the only guy in the world who has no interest in that.”
Gina looked over at Detective Naughton just then and saw that he was looking very embarrassed, the deep red edging its way up his face to fight with the grey roots of his black hair. She noticed that he didn’t look up from his notebook at either her or his partner. She imagined he would have a laugh about it later with his mates but couldn’t feel comfortable discussing this topic with women.
Gina continued, “It was realizing that neither of us stood a chance with him that led to us jokingly suggesting that if we wanted to get together it would have to be without him. I can’t remember which of us suggested it, but then a look passed between us and all of a sudden we were kissing. The next morning there was no awkwardness at all; we both just wondered why we had never done it before.”
“Does the man in question know what he’s missing out on?”
“We both lost interest in him after that, and he never noticed the difference. Obviously he had never even noticed that we were besotted with him.”
“Who was the guy?”
“I’d rather not say. Who wants to be reminded of their teenage crushes? It’s bad enough that mine still hadn’t abated by adulthood. Anyway, we’ve strayed from the point.”
“It’s interesting, that’s all. Anyway, we’ve established that as far as you are aware there are no reasons why anyone would have wanted any harm to come to Rick. I’m very interested in the relationships between his friends; it’s intriguing that you and Kim have a romantic relationship, and also there is a past between Alex and Sylvia.”
“Surely none of that is relevant?” Gina asked, wondering if maybe the interviews weren’t so much of a formality after all.
“We’ll see,” replied Detective Molloy and concluded the interview, arranging for Gina to have her fingerprints taken.
CHAPTER FOUR
Sylvia looked around at her friends as they waited for Alex and thought about how much they’d all been through together.
Sylvia and Elaine had been friends since they were four years old. Both from the estate of Redwood in a small town in Co. Galway called Abbeyfield, they latched on to each other on their first day of school, as their mothers said goodbye to them. Elaine was sitting at a table, trying to be brave, trying not to shed the tears that threatened to fall, as her mother attempted to distract her with a puzzle so that she could make her escape. Sylvia’s mother brought her to the table and tried to convince her to sit beside Elaine, but Sylvia wouldn’t let go of her mother’s skirt as she cried into it. The smell of the flour on it from baking an apple tart with her the day before served to both soothe her and upset her even more; she wondered why she couldn’t just go home with her mother and bake another apple tart. Eventually her tears dried up and she sat down beside Elaine who said that they’d share the puzzle. Her mother left as Elaine and Sylvia sat, heads bent together over the puzzle. They’d remained steadfast friends ever since, through many fights over toys and through the awkward teenage years when they watched other friends come and go.
During the lazy days of the summer holidays when they turned sixteen, Alex moved in next door to Sylvia and became friends with the two girls. Alex, a sixteen-year-old boy, was quite a romantic and over that summer fell in love with Sylvia, who had no shortage of other admirers. His infatuation started long before he saw her sitting on a rock at the beach with her feet dangling in the cool water, her profile etched against the sparkling blue of the sea, although that was an image of her that inspired many of his poems.
When the heat of the summer turned to the crisp days of autumn and Alex started at their school, the other girls became jealous of Sylvia having him serenading her with love poems and songs. Any one of them would’ve given their year’s subscription to Just Seventeen to have that kind of attention lavished upon them. She, however, alternated her responses to him as the mood took her, depending on what other guys were showing an interest in her at the time. She either responded to the serenading by running down the stairs and out the door into his arms giving him a passionate kiss, or by shouting out the window that she would like to get some sleep.
Whenever she was dating someone else she would just be friends with Alex, and when she was single she was all over him. He was always waiting around for her to tire of her latest boyfriend. The other girls were always trying to get him interested in them when she was with someone else, the amount of make-up they wore increasing as the amount of clothes they wore decreased. However, eventually they stopped trying as they realized that he was a lost cause, doomed to a life of loving someone who didn’t love him back.
Although a tall, very attractive boy with blonde hair and eyes that sparkled like the sea, he was by no means the most gorgeous guy in school or even the most popular, but he had once been voted the most sought after. When this was pointed out to him he just looked puzzled. He was completely unaware of the interest other girls had in him; that was quite possibly part of the attraction. When he played his guitar and sang he was totally focused on Sylvia and failed to notice the numerous girls simpering at his side.
Elaine, a level headed girl, was short and voluptuous with a bubbly personality that people couldn’t help but be drawn to. She was one of the only girls in school who wasn’t interested in Alex as more than a friend. She noticed, and felt a mixture of contempt and pity for, all the girls who went unseen by Alex. She hoped that someday Sylvia would get the other boys out of her system and have a lasting relationship with Alex.
Sylvia reflected on the close bond the three had formed that lasted through college and beyond. She was glad that like so many other people did she hadn’t forsaken her friends for her boyfriend. She would need that closeness now, knew that she could rely on her friends to help her fill the gaping hole in her heart left by Rick’s death. She couldn’t think about that now without falling apart.
At twenty, Elaine got married to her first love, Dave. He was tall, a little on the chubby side, and full of fun. They bought a house in Redwood, a three-bedroom, semi-detached, two-story house, which had been renovated before they moved in making it quite different to the one Elaine and the others had grown up in, much to Elaine’s delight.
Elaine and Dave went on to have three children, Sarah, Jody and Dillon, making their house a lively place to be. All three children had black hair like both parents, but with her brown eyes Sarah favored her father more than her mother. Jody and Dillon were very much their mother’s children, in personality as well as looks, with the same hazel eyes and caring nature, while Sarah had a more complicated combination of personalities.
As the years had gone by, Sylvia’s following of men increased substantially. Alex became more handsome; his blonde hair had darkened a little and his features became stronger, as did his feelings for Sylvia. The terms of their relationship remained the same, although he had grown out of serenading her, but still wrote some beautiful poems for her. As he experienced more of life his poetry became deeper and more meaningful, but still Sylvia saw him only as a friend with benefits.
After dumping a guy and while waiting for someone new she would call Alex and he would always be available for her. Their relationship had changed in so far as they had started sleeping together. Sylvia saw this as a natural progression as they went from childhood to adulthood, their passionate goodnight kisses turning to stolen moments on the couch, and eventually to sex. However, Alex viewed it as them getting closer; he saw it as making love, and started to infuse his poetry with references to tender caresses.
He was a banker who spent his evenings going to the pub with his colleagues, spending time with his friends or having a quiet night in with a book or writing poetry. He still played his guitar, often putting his words to music, and while writing or reading he tended to listen to classical music and was particularly moved by Vivaldi. His life never involved other women as more than just friends, despite the interference of his friends and family.
Sylvia was a hairdresser and her nights consisted of partying with her workmates or spending quality time with old school pals. Her current boyfriend would be fit in around her life, and whenever he became too demanding she told him it was over. She would often spend evenings with Alex when she was seeing someone else, but those evenings would be platonic. Her relationship with him was easy. For her it was uncomplicated by feelings. They could curl up on the couch together, watch a movie and finish off the evening with a chaste peck on the cheek, or when she was single end up in bed together.
Elaine spent many nights telling Sylvia to either devote herself completely to Alex or tell him that he was wasting his time and passions on her. She couldn’t see why Sylvia wasn’t happy to date Alex exclusively when their relationship already contained it all – romance, passion, friendship. She tried on numerous occasions to get Sylvia to dial her relationship with Alex up a notch, take him out to a candlelit dinner and give him a proper chance. However, Elaine knew full well that she was wasting her breath; Sylvia enjoyed having male attention and had always felt that if Alex didn’t go after anyone else it was his loss and nothing to do with her. It was a constant source of tension between the two friends. Nevertheless they remained bosom buddies, having agreed as children that they would never let anything come between them, especially boys. It had been that time in their lives when they were going from the “boys, oh yuck!” stage to the “oh my God! What a yummy hunk!” stage.
Not long after Elaine and Dave got married, when she was pregnant with their first child, Dave had hit on Sylvia. It only happened once because Sylvia had put him in his place quick smart. She wasn’t a cheater, and most certainly wouldn’t break the best friend code. She was quite shocked because, until then, she’d thought Dave was a devoted husband, not to mention that she didn’t think she was his type, either in looks or personality. She was reasonably good looking with warm brown eyes, long hair, slightly voluptuous hips and an ample bosom. She had more than a smattering of the freckles that so often plague redheads, which served to add a cheekiness that tied her personality and looks together and was aware that it was her personality which most attracted men, her wild nature, which she knew Dave had no interest in.
She’d informed him that under no circumstances was he ever to behave like that again, either with her or with anyone else and had told him that she would find out, and that would be the end of his marriage, not that she really believed he would ever stray. She tried to put it down to a momentary lapse of judgment, but felt she could never trust him the same way again and was fearful for her friend’s heart. Elaine, who always put everyone else before herself, didn’t deserve to have a cheating husband, didn’t deserve to have her heart broken, especially while pregnant and feeling so fragile and vulnerable.
Since then things had been strained between her and Dave, but they were careful not to let Elaine see this. Sylvia had kept an even closer eye on him when Elaine was pregnant than at any other time, but he thought her vigilance was constant. It gave her a certain amount of power over him because he knew that even if he never strayed she still possessed the power to end his marriage. All she had to do was tell Elaine that he’d tried it on with her before. He was now wise enough to know that Elaine would believe her long-time friend over him. She would loathe being the bearer of such news, playing a part in the destruction of their marriage when all Elaine had ever done was to be there for her through everything, from the many rows she’d had with her parents to boy trouble.
Sylvia wondered where she’d be without Elaine, for it was to her she always turned in every crisis in her life, whether major or minor. She thought about how many times she had turned to her when she was having a row with Alex, how even though she mightn’t like what Elaine said to her she always knew how to make everything right. Sylvia would need that now more than ever. It was Elaine she needed to pull her through, as she had done before, although it wouldn’t be the same. Nothing could ever be the same again. She thought of how it was down to Elaine that she had met Rick.
Just before meeting Rick, Sylvia was heartbroken over an ex; it was the first time she’d ever found herself reduced to a blubbering mess over a guy, unable to sleep or eat, lacking the energy to go out with her friends or contemplate life with any other guy. She would lie on her bed, listening to love songs with tears rolling down her face. Finally her appetite returned, she started sleeping again and found that her every waking moment was no longer consumed by sadness over Jerry’s departure. She accepted her friends’ persuasion that it was time to move on, that there was somebody else out there worthy of her love.
Elaine had worked in the bank with Alex until she decided to be a full time mother. She still socialized with the bank crew and when she heard of a party that was being thrown for someone who was leaving the bank she urged Sylvia to go along to it, knowing the time was right for her to move on. Sylvia agreed to go and while getting ready she found herself, for the first time in ages, using her hairbrush alternately as a microphone or guitar as she jumped around her room singing to her favorite songs. She knew that Alex would be there and was ready to go back to him. Elaine hadn’t told Alex that Sylvia would be there in the hope that he wouldn’t show up; she wanted Sylvia to bypass the Alex stage that came after every breakup and go straight for one of the other eligible bachelors that would be at the party.
However, Alex did turn up and his eyes lit up the instant he saw Sylvia. At the same instant Sylvia’s eye was caught by someone else. Sylvia could imagine herself gripping that dark hair in a moment of passion, with those dark eyes looking into hers out of his deeply tanned face. She went straight over and introduced herself, leaving Elaine to inform Alex that Sylvia would be unavailable for the evening.
True to form, within minutes Sylvia had Rick on the dance floor and was swaying to a beat that had more to do with passion than with music. The only way they could’ve gotten closer would have been making love. They danced and talked all evening, totally oblivious to anyone else around them.
After several people passing by told them they should get a room Rick said, “Shall we go to my place?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” Sylvia replied.
In the taxi on the way to Rick’s place they managed to restrain themselves and kept their hands from roaming all over each other. They made small talk, although the air was rife with sexual tension. When they got to Rick’s flat they found his flat mate up and crying big, gulping sobs as she clutched a glass of wine in her hand. The expression on Rick’s face changed immediately to one of concern.
“Sylvia, I’m not blowing you off. I just think Mary needs a shoulder to cry on right now.” He gave her a quick kiss on the lips and said, “I’m definitely looking forward to taking up from where we left off. Would you think I’m awful if I asked you to make the three of us a cup of tea?”
“Not at all. I hope she’ll be okay.” With a wink she added, “We have all night to enjoy each other.”
Sylvia looked around the kitchen as she waited for the kettle to boil. She was impressed with the neatness; there was no way she’d be able to keep everything in its place like that. The décor was quite simple, neutral. Very nice for rented accommodation, she thought. She compared it to the house she shared and felt ashamed of the mess of the place, the décor which the landlord hadn’t updated since the seventies, at least that’s what it looked like to her with its strong greens and oranges and brown patterned carpets.
When Sylvia brought the tea into the sitting room she found Mary wrapped in Rick’s arms. Her first impression of Mary was of a dumpy, rather plain girl with shoulder length black hair. She could see that Mary was rather short, made to look even shorter by her roundness. She realized that if Mary wasn’t crying her eyes out she might actually be pretty. She felt she’d have to hold off on assessing her prettiness until she saw her in a more favorable circumstance.
Rick threw her an apologetic glance as he extricated himself from Mary’s clutches with the promise of tea in his stead. As they listened to Mary’s tale of woe about how her boyfriend had just dumped her in favor of some “blonde bimbo” with legs that went on forever, Sylvia’s eyes wandered over the sparsely furnished sitting room and found herself once again comparing it to her own living conditions.
Sitting in a black leather recliner she felt very tempted to hit the recliner button but didn’t want to be rude. It was one thing to be looking around while pretending to listen to Mary, but if she looked like she was more interested in her reclining chair than in Mary’s tale of woe it would look very bad for her. Although they seem to be so absorbed in Mary’s story that they probably wouldn’t even notice, Sylvia reasoned. However, she resisted the temptation and just took in her very tasteful surroundings.
A glass coffee table, which lacked the clutter Sylvia was used to seeing, was placed between the two armchairs in front of the large leather couch. She was rather envious of the large wrought iron fireplace opposite the couch; a very antiquated central heating system was all her house offered. She decided then that she must move house soon. It was one thing living like that in her student days but just shameful as a working woman.
Finally, when Mary decided that she was better off without the “bastard” who had just dumped her, Rick and Sylvia went to bed but were too tired to resume their lovemaking. As Sylvia slid in between the cool sheets she wished she could have more than sleep on her mind, but her eyes were just so heavy that she longed for blissful oblivion.
“I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night, I promise,” Rick told her as he kissed her on the cheek.
“Morning’s good for me,” Sylvia said, not so tired that she couldn’t muster up a bit of coquettishness.
“We’ll see.”
They snuggled up together, no awkwardness involved although they had only just met, and were soon in a deep sleep.
When the alarm woke them the next morning, Sylvia stretched and rolled over so that she was half lying on top of Rick. She kissed him and flicked her tongue along his lips, straddling his hips as she bit his lower lip.
“How about that promise to make it up to me?” She felt Rick’s response beneath her as she slipped her tongue into his mouth.
Afterwards, over breakfast, Rick expressed his desire to see her again. “Sorry it’s nothing more elaborate than tea and toast. Neither Mary nor I eat cereal, so we don’t have any in and we only have a fry up at the weekends. We’re not used to having people here for breakfast; I’m not into one night stands and I certainly hope this wasn’t one,” he said.
“Tea and toast is fine, probably all I’d be having if I was at home anyway. I’d like to see you again too.”
“I’ll call you later.”
“I look forward to it, but before you go in to work today I think there’s something I should tell you.”
A look of caution crossed Rick’s face as he asked, “What’s that?”
“I have a history with one of your colleagues, Alex.” Sylvia went on to explain the nature of the relationship between her and Alex, watching Rick’s face carefully to try to gauge his reaction. She hoped he wouldn’t be put off by it. He listened intently and didn’t seem perturbed by her admission, but she couldn’t tell for sure.
“I hope that’s not a problem for you,” she finished. “I just thought you should know from the start since you have to work with him.”
“Is he going to make it a problem for me?”
“God, no,” she said. “We’re just friends. We’ve just been more from time to time in the past, that’s all. He’ll be fine about you and me. I just wanted you to hear about it from me first. Not that Alex would kiss and tell of course, but I just wouldn’t want any awkwardness.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Sylvia tried to get more comfortable in the straight-backed chair, sighed and thought about how much she was going to need all of her friends to help her through this. She hoped Alex’s feelings for her weren’t going to be an issue, as she would need the comfort of being wrapped in his arms, and, although knowing it was selfish, she didn’t need to worry about how he would feel while holding her. More than anything, though, she would need to draw on Elaine’s strength.
She had been so lost in thought as she waited for Alex that she didn’t realize she had a cup of coffee in her hands and that it was almost empty. She had been drinking it as her mind had wandered over her previous days, weeks and years, not for the first time in the last few days. She thought about her own interview with the detectives and wondered if she had said anything to inadvertently incriminate any of her friends, particularly Alex.
“How are you feeling? Are you up to this?” Detective Molloy asked, holding Sylvia’s hand between her own two.
“I’m okay I guess. I’m as up to this as I’ll ever be.” The feeling of determination Sylvia had started the day with had been slowly ebbing away while she waited to be interviewed and she once again felt like curling up in a ball and crying until she could cry no more. Taking a deep breath she pushed her strength and determination to the fore again.