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Blinding Lies Page 4
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Anna sighed loudly, her heart pounding in her ears. The Gardaí assigned to the case had already covered a lot of ground, and it looked very bad for Kate Crowley. She was missing, and there was a dead man in her house. Possibly, a murdered man.
The next page detailed what information was available or known on her. Anna read with fevered interest, praying it was not the Kate Crowley she remembered. However, soon her worst fears were confirmed. It was her old friend. Kate Crowley had a twin sister Natalie – now Anna had no doubt it was her. The twins had been born and raised in Cork, before moving to Dublin while they were in their teens. Kate worked as a graphic designer for City Graphics. She was good at her job, respected, but had left her office abruptly the morning of the shooting, without a word to anyone. A colleague had been interviewed and stated that she had been at her desk early that morning but had taken a phone call and left unexpectedly before lunchtime. She had not returned.
Anna remembered the Crowley sisters. They had attended the same primary school as she had, St. Catherine’s in Kinsale. The girls had all been close friends, until going their separate ways.
Anna read on with a growing sense of panic. There was a report from the Protective Service Unit, in which Detective Sergeant Elise Taylor served. It listed twenty dates over three years on which Kate Crowley had filed a complaint of assault against David Gallagher. But Gallagher hadn’t assaulted her – Natalie was the victim of the attacks. Anna winced. She remembered Natalie. She had been shy, quieter than her outgoing sister. It pained Anna to think of her being abused. Reading on, she realised Natalie Crowley and David Gallagher were known to be in a relationship and had twin daughters together. She couldn’t imagine how mild-mannered Natalie Crowley had got mixed up with a criminal like David Gallagher.
It appeared no charges were ever filed against David Gallagher for domestic abuse. Anna knew it was tough to intervene in these cases without the co-operation of the victim. She rubbed her forehead with a growing sense of foreboding, dreading to turn the pages and keep reading, but unable to stop.
The following page detailed a transcript of an incident involving David Gallagher and Natalie Crowley. Gallagher had assaulted Natalie at their home in the city, and taken their two children, toddlers Rhea and Rachel. He had driven them to the quays by the Marina in the city, then he rang Natalie and claimed he was planning to drive into the water. Kate, who was by now with Natalie at her home, called the Gardaí, who had quickly averted the impending crisis. It was noted that David Gallagher appeared heavily intoxicated at the scene. He was detained but released the following morning for a psychiatric assessment. Anna had seen this before – a Gallagher wriggling out of trouble thanks to their solicitors making demands.
Anna was growing extremely uncomfortable, the seriousness of the situation dawning on her, weighing her down. She realised that what she had just read was a major problem for Kate; it was motive to want David Gallagher dead.
She read on. There was a one-paragraph summary of David Gallagher and his family, headed by Tom Gallagher. It contained no new information for Anna – she had typed up many reports relating to the Gallaghers.
For some time, the Gallagher family had been gaining ground in the city. Tom Gallagher and his two sons had been expanding their territory over the last few years. The Gallaghers had been a growing problem for the Gardaí in Lee Street. They were suspected of trading in weapons, drugs, liquor – whatever was profitable on any given day. Anna knew the Gardaí had achieved a few minor convictions against some of Gallagher’s associates but never any of the Gallaghers or their inner circle. No convictions had yet been made against the immediate members of the family. Only Tom Gallagher’s niece had been caught with irrefutable evidence and she was serving a five-year prison sentence in Limerick prison. From what Anna had heard in the office, she wouldn’t be getting out early on account of good behaviour.
Anna was aware the Gallaghers owned a number of bars and clubs in Cork, and they controlled the family business from Tom Gallagher’s offices spread around the venues. He kept his family life separate as much as possible, secluding his wife in their house in South Rise, overlooking the city. The Gallaghers had no competition that Anna could think of. Anyone that looked to be a threat to them had already, and sometimes suddenly, left the area. The Lee Street Gardaí had cleaned blood from the streets many times after David Gallagher and his brother John. They dealt harshly with people that owed them money or people they thought were trying to invade their territory. The Gallaghers took up a vast amount of Garda resources. But they were armed with expensive solicitors. So far, they had proved organised, very clever and one step ahead of the Gardaí. Anna felt sorry for Kate Crowley – through her sister, she had found herself mixed up in a nightmare.
One sentence, highlighted in yellow at the bottom of the page, caused Anna to draw her breath in sharply – John Gallagher was missing. His car had been found by the quays at the Marina. His wallet and phone were inside. It was not known when the car had been abandoned. No-one believed he had entered the river, but the question remained – where was John Gallagher? Was this all connected? The source of this intelligence was listed as “intel” only – there had been no missing person’s report, which didn’t surprise Anna. The Gallaghers didn’t turn to the Gardaí to solve their problems.
Anna could only imagine Tom Gallagher’s fury. One son was shot dead. Another was missing. There could be war on the city streets if this was not resolved soon.
She read on. The next page detailed that members of a suspected criminal gang had entered Cork from Germany. She knew that intelligence bulletins were often received relating to movement of known or suspected criminals. The German Federal Police had supplied a flight number and time – Tuesday morning. Did this gang have anything to do with the frightening situation unfolding? She continued reading, feeling queasy, desperate to reach the end of the scrawled notes.
A printout from a separate report was stapled to the page, offering details on the Meier brothers from Munich. There were four brothers in the Meier family, but photographs were only included for two of them – Tobias and Leon, both in their thirties. There had been minor convictions against them for drug offences but, much like the Gallaghers, they remained on the edge of law-enforcement, never getting caught in the act. Their suspected enterprises included selling and distributing drugs, but they also appeared to have connections to other gangs in Russia and the Ukraine. They were being monitored, but so far had done nothing to raise the level of concern. The note finished by stating there was no known connection between the Meiers and the Gallaghers, but the timing of their arrival coincided with David Gallagher’s death and John Gallagher’s disappearance. All avenues were to be investigated, particularly in light of the political conference in the city later in the week.
The final paragraph of Elise’s notes said that she had received a call from an informer just this afternoon. A woman who might be Kate Crowley had set up a meeting in a club in the city, the Mad Hatter, for Saturday night. The woman was reportedly seeking to buy a false passport. Elise was requesting undercover detectives be stationed inside.
How was Kate wrapped up in the shooting of David Gallagher – was it self-defence? He had a history of violence against her sister. Maybe he had attacked Kate? And if that was the case, why didn’t she hand herself in to the Gardaí? Obviously, she was trying to leave the city – attempting to buy a fake passport was a crime in itself. And where were Natalie and her two children?
Anna felt the pull of a migraine as she tried to comprehend all that she had read, and all the questions that yet remained to be answered. As she began to type up the job book, detailing the tasks to be completed in the case, her hands shook. She could fully appreciate the tension in the office in the last twenty-four hours. The political conference was fast approaching; Cork city would host over a dozen heads of state. There were a number of unsolved sexual assaults in the city, the attacker striking at random every few months. A major c
riminal had been shot dead, and his brother was missing. Now, a suspected criminal gang from Germany had flown in. And Anna was at the heart of it all, typing up notes and memos, absorbing all the chilling details. She felt genuinely scared for her old friends Kate and Natalie – they had got themselves mixed up in something that could get them killed.
As Anna typed, she became aware her breath was coming short and shallow and she forced herself to stop. Her Taekwon-Do training took over. She sat into the back of her seat, the weight of it against her back a grounding force. She took a series of deep breaths in through her nose, and out through her mouth. Slowly she felt her nerves relax and her shoulders loosen. With steadier hands, she was able to continue.
When Anna brought the completed job book to the incident room, she was rooted to the spot by the large photograph on the wall of Kate Crowley.
She was the same age as Anna, twenty-six. She hadn’t changed much, physically. She still had the same long, wild, red hair and bright-green eyes. Beside her photograph there was another – a dark-haired man, thickset, in his early thirties. David Gallagher. Anna looked at Gallagher’s face on the screen. To her he looked like a normal guy; clearly, from the notes she had just typed up, he was capable of terrible things. She imagined him now, dead on a slab, being attended to by the State Pathologist, and shivered.
4
“It’s very simple,” there was a pause, a sigh, an expression of exasperation. “I want what was agreed. The item is of great importance. Our employer negotiated a fair price with your brother, and we have come to collect. No lies, no excuses.”
John Gallagher, tied to a wooden chair by his wrists and ankles, was long past panic. He had been beaten for hours now. Days maybe; time rolled into itself and he couldn’t tell. He thought it was Thursday but couldn’t be sure. He had been bundled into a car yesterday, or maybe the day before that? They had driven for hours, or so it seemed to him, before arriving at what appeared to be an old farmhouse. It terrified him that they didn’t care to use a blindfold and didn’t seem bothered that he could identify them. What terrified him more was their accents – eastern European perhaps. Possibly German.
They had hauled him into a room, tied him to a chair, and the interrogation began. He could no longer open his left eye, and his jaw ached. He was spent.
There were four of them, and they wanted their merchandise. John was certain he was being beaten to a pulp by the Meier brothers.
John Gallagher and his family had been holding goods for the Meier brothers for a few years – weapons, drugs, cash – anything that needed hiding for a while before it was moved across the Irish Sea or back into mainland Europe. Lately, they had begun to deal in stolen diamonds – as far as John was concerned, it was none of his business as long as they paid their holding fee. The Gallaghers didn’t ask questions, so long as the money kept coming. None of the Gallaghers had ever met the Meiers in person and, as far as John was aware, the Meier brothers had never set foot in Cork city before, which suited him fine. They were known sadists, brutally violent when necessary – but they paid well, and Tom Gallagher, head of the family, had always kept them sweet. Until now.
John lifted his head and registered the man’s words: “Our employer negotiated a fair price with your brother.”
David had been put in charge of dealings with the Meiers recently. But the price for holding their goods had been set by their father at the start of the arrangement – had David tried to renegotiate the deal?
Fist hit cheekbone with a sickening thud.
John coughed and fought to control his voice. “I told you!” he rasped. “David was killed by Kate Crowley – he told me she stole from him, from us. She will have what you’re looking for!” He coughed again, spitting out the blood that was pooling inside his mouth. His body sagged against the restraints; he was utterly exhausted. He stared at the ground, his head bent, his blood a steady drip onto the floor.
“My employer has already paid half. I cannot return to him empty-handed. Do you understand?”
John heard a tremor in the man’s voice, a pulse of fear that added menace to the words. He didn’t raise his head – he had no energy left. And he hadn’t the faintest idea what the man was talking about.
His attacker sighed again and turned to his brother, standing a short distance away, observing the beating with folded arms.
“Leon,” he said, in a voice so soft it terrified John, “bring the tools. Tomorrow, Mama Gallagher will get a present from her son.”
5
Anna shuddered as she made her way to the staff car park at half past four. She walked hurriedly, hunching slightly against the wind which stung her cheeks. It was late November and brutally cold; despite her coat and scarf she was freezing, assailed by the bite of the chill air.
The day had exhausted her. From examining the sexual-assault cases, her encounter with Doherty, and typing up the notes on the shooting, she was emotionally and physically drained.
She found the fact that a photograph of her old friend’s face was posted onto the wall in the incident room as a person of interest in a shooting very hard to believe. She felt terrified for Kate – she couldn’t stop thinking about her. If she was guilty, if she had shot David Gallagher, Anna knew Tom Gallagher would show her little mercy if he found her. She hoped it was her colleagues who found her first.
From the notes she had typed up, it seemed clear to her that self-defence was the only probable explanation. David Gallagher was a violent man – she knew that. He had been an abusive partner to Natalie Crowley. She wondered where she was. There had been nothing in Elise Taylor’s handwritten notes about Natalie’s whereabouts. Was she still alive? Where were her children? The weight of the situation hung over Anna like a dark cloud.
As she sat into her car, her mobile phone vibrated in her pocket as a text message came through – her brother Alex, reminding her about dinner with his family tonight and telling her to come by any time that suited her.
Chloe can’t wait to show you her new pet, he had typed, finishing the text with a picture of what Anna assumed was either a guinea pig or a hamster. She smiled. The thought of her brother’s cooking and her niece’s infectious laugh was enough to brighten her mood and quell her growing worry.
Every Thursday evening after Anna taught Taekwon-Do Tykesin her local community hall, she always called to her brother and his family. Alex lived in the centre of Kinsale, in a new development, and Anna loved having him nearby. She and her brother were close, and she adored his wife and daughter.
But tonight, she had something she wanted to speak to him about – something that she had wanted to bring up for a while. She reached for a business card that she had put in her glove compartment a few months ago. It bore the details of K.R. Lane, Private Investigator.
Anna had met Kristian Lane for coffee in March, over six months ago. He had promised answers and had said that he had contacts in the Gardaí who could help him find out the truth about what had happened almost ten years ago. He was expensive, billing by the hour, but Anna figured it would be worth it. Yet she still hadn’t booked his services. Perhaps she was scared of what he might find out? And she didn’t know how to explain to Alex that she wanted to hire a private investigator to find out what had happened to their parents the night they had disappeared. The anniversary of their car accident and mysterious disappearance was fast approaching. With a growing sense of urgency, Anna wanted answers.
The city of Cork was the one of the largest in Ireland and considered by its inhabitants to be the country’s real capital. Anna had lived there all her life and had no plans to leave. She loved everything about the city; the bustle of its streets always thrilled her. Her semi-detached house, her childhood home, was in an estate over forty minutes’ drive from the city, along the Wild Atlantic route favoured by tourists. Every time she ventured into the city she felt like a tourist herself, relishing the electric buzz that flowed through the lively streets. She shopped for fresh produce in the E
nglish Market often after work, wandering slowly among the crowds. She had a full and happy life in Cork, and she never wanted to leave. She knew that was in part because she hoped her parents would return one day, and she wanted to be there if they did.
This evening, as Anna changed from her work trousers and blouse into her white pants and top, she felt the weight of the day lift from her shoulders. She and Jason greeted the children warmly as they filed into the hall, eager for today’s lesson. Jason, her father’s friend, was like an uncle to her. Even though he was her teacher, he was always happy to let her lead the way in their weekly classes with the kids. The youngsters loved Anna and viewed her as a “big sister”. It offered her a welcome feeling of belonging to something bigger than just her and Alex’s small family. The sound of their shrieks and laughter brought a smile to her face. She would soon gain control of the room – she always did. Within minutes, as the children stood in lined formation in front of her, chanting the five tenets of Taekwon-Do in their sing-song voices, she was fully relaxed – Detective Superintendent Doherty, the sexual assault cases and Kate’s predicament briefly forgotten.