Blinding Lies Page 5

  “Courtesy, Integrity, Perseverance, Self-Control, Indomitable Spirit!” she chanted with the children, smiling as the younger ones attempted to pronounce the long words.

  As always, during these classes, Anna remembered her father. She recalled chanting these words with him in the garden of their home as he taught her and Alex defensive moves and encouraged them to think through the five tenets and to understand what they stood for. His words echoed in her mind. He had tried to instil in them that showing fortitude – courage in the face of danger or adversity – was a valuable attribute.

  “Never be a victim.” His words were never far from Anna’s mind. “Protect those who cannot protect themselves.”

  The hour was always over too quickly for her. As she released the children one by one to their parents and said goodnight to Jason, she smiled as she thought of her niece Chloe. She couldn’t wait for the cuddles the little girl always offered in abundance – she needed them today.

  Alex greeted Anna with a hug, the aroma of his cooking enveloping her as he pulled her close. Alex Clarke was very like his younger sister physically. He was six foot tall but he shared her light-blonde hair and brown eyes. Apart from their father’s eyes, they both resembled their mother.

  When Anna was sixteen years old and Alex twenty-five, their world had been shattered by the disappearance of their parents. Michael and Helen Clarke’s car had been found on the motorway to Dublin. There was no sign of them – and never any sign of them after – they had literally disappeared into thin air. All that remained was an obvious car accident – a badly mangled vehicle abandoned at the side of the road, with no evidence of where the occupants had got to.

  Ten years later, Anna still could not understand how two adults could just vanish and leave no trace behind. Someone must know where they were – someone must be keeping this secret. Her parents’ disappearance had been devastating for her, and in her eyes Alex had rebuilt her existence, piece by piece. Where any other twenty-five-year-old might have been overwhelmed by the responsibility, Alex had dedicated himself to raising his little sister. He finished his accountancy exams by night while working by day, somehow managing to help with homework and attend school plays and soccer games. He had done his best to give his sister a normal life after such a traumatic event. Anna felt an intense bond with him.

  Four-year-old Chloe leapt into Anna’s arms, squealing “Anna, Anna!”, and sat at her feet in the kitchen, playing with her new pet hamster as Alex cooked and chatted.

  Alex ran his own accountancy firm from home, which allowed him to take care of Chloe after playschool while his wife worked at a stockbroker’s in the city. Samantha was there now, working overtime, so it was just the three of them for dinner.

  Alex was filling Anna in on how busy he was at work, and Anna was happy to let him talk, to be distracted from her own job.

  “It’s never been more hectic. I’ve had to invest in a new software system, but it should take some of the pressure off. I have to keep up with the times! But it’s worth it – the new system will literally take hours off my workday.”

  “That sounds great!” Anna said enthusiastically, twirling Chloe’s light-blonde pigtails between her fingers.

  “Did you hear about the shooting in Brook Valley?” Alex asked, then smiled. “Of course you did. And don’t worry, I’m not looking for any inside information!”

  Anna laughed at her brother. Alex was always curious about her job, about the information she was privy to overhearing. Anna had never been tempted to gossip – even though she knew she could trust her brother. She had signed a confidentiality agreement at work and had never broken it. It wasn’t in her nature to break trust – teaching her students the value of self-control on a weekly basis kept her too grounded for that.

  The three of them moved to the dining table, Alex and Anna carrying their plates and tall glasses of milk; Chloe insisted on carrying her own, making Anna smile. Her niece was growing up fast!

  Anna was hungry after work and teaching. She loved the flavour and heartiness of Alex’s cooking – he was a good cook, and it reminded her of when it was just the two of them.

  “This lasagne is lovely, Alex. And it’s so nice to be served, instead of cooking for one.”

  Living alone, Anna never bothered with the effort Alex went to when he cooked. She was happy with ready meals and salads.

  She turned to Chloe. “So, tell me, what are we calling your furry new friend?”

  Chloe beamed, relishing the chance to take centre stage. Between mouthfuls of food, she debated name after name, giggling and bouncing in her seat.

  Later, after reading far too many bedtime stories, Anna tucked Chloe into bed, then joined her brother for coffee in the living room downstairs. Alex had lit the fire; it crackled in the hearth and warmed the room. They sat in opposite armchairs and the conversation flowed easily between them, as it always had.

  Anna cleared her throat and took a deep breath. It was just her and Alex – Samantha was still working. This was her chance.

  “Alex, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Mum and Dad.”

  Alex, stoking the flames at the hearth, looked up sharply.

  “What about them?”

  “Well … it’s almost ten years since they disappeared. And nothing has changed. We’ve never moved forward. I want to give it one last shot to find answers. What do you think?”

  “OK.” Alex nodded slowly.

  He was a measured guy, and Anna could tell he was thinking through her words.

  “What do you have in mind?” he said then.

  “I asked a few questions at work and found out that their disappearance will not be revisited unless a new angle is discovered, something that was missed in the initial investigation. We could do another public appeal, to try to jog people’s memory, but it’s a long shot. So … I want to hire a private investigator to go over the whole thing. To look over all the files, all the notes we have.”

  Alex swallowed hard; it was loud in the quiet room. Anna sat forward and put her hand on his arm. His eyes were filled with the anguish she still felt.

  “Why do you want to go down this road, Anna? I don’t understand.”

  “Don’t you ever lie awake at night and run through all the possibilities, Alex? What if they are alive?”

  “Anna,” he began softly, his eyes boring into hers, “you must know there’s no chance of them being alive. Every angle was covered. Every possible theory was exhausted. I’m sorry but you must accept it – they are dead. Hiring a private investigator will only prove that fact!” His tone was earnest, his eyes pleading with his sister to understand. “The detectives that worked Mum and Dad’s case did their best. Sometimes, a case goes cold and there are just no leads. You have to let it go!”

  Anna met his eyes and the look she saw there made her want to cry. Alex’s heartbreak emanated from them. He knew her well, knew she continued to be plagued by anger and sadness that her parents had vanished, and no bodies or evidence was ever found. She knew too that Alex had lost exactly what she had, and now she was talking about opening up the wound and going through it all again. She felt a rush of guilt – but she just had to give it one more try.

  For Anna, there was also the matter of their family home. She had lived there all her life and had no intention of leaving. But if their parents were dead, which she knew in her heart was the most likely scenario, then the house was half Alex’s. He had never mentioned it and had never sought to liquidate his share of the house. Anna knew it was worth a lot, especially with it being on the Wild Atlantic Way. Although it was relatively small it was in a beautiful coastal location with a decent-sized back garden, close enough to the city to be accessible, but far enough away to be secluded. Anna had known a happy childhood there. They had been content before the accident. Now Alex had a family of his own … Anna knew the time had come to decide the future of their parents’ assets once and for all.

  After their disappearance everything
had changed. Their father’s friend from London, a man they had never known, had turned up unexpectedly. He had given them details of a trust fund their parents had set up. It contained almost five-hundred thousand euro. Alex had used his half to buy a house with Samantha. Anna still had most of hers in the bank.

  Anna sat back in the armchair, feeling the familiar frustration she felt whenever this subject was raised. Alex never wanted to discuss it. He had chosen to move on. And she had reached a point in her life where she wanted to move on too, but she just couldn’t accept the obvious truth. She longed for her parents to be alive and safe somewhere, but that scenario made no sense to her. Why would they leave her and Alex and start a new life somewhere else? So, she knew she must accept the most likely outcome that they were dead, their bodies never recovered. But she needed to feel she had exhausted every angle.

  “Alex, believe me, it’s been ten years – I too want to put this behind me. And I’m willing to move on. The house is half yours.”

  “I’ve told you, there’s no need to –”

  “We should move things forward legally and end this once and for all. And I’m willing to do that. But I need to feel I tried everything first. The investigator is good at what he does; he’s a retired detective and will go over the case with fresh eyes. Will you support me on this?”

  Alex stared into the dancing flames of the fire for what felt like a long time.

  “I will.” He finally looked up. “But you have to promise me you will accept what he finds.”

  Anna smiled broadly. “No problem!” She was hugely relieved. With Alex on board, she felt sure she could handle whatever Kristian Lane might uncover.

  Eventually, after ten o’clock, Samantha returned. She looked weary from her long day. She hugged Anna, apologising for her lateness. Alex kissed his wife’s cheek and went to the kitchen to heat up the meal she had missed.

  Samantha kicked off her shoes and dropped onto the sofa. “Oh Anna, I’ve missed the whole evening with you, I’m sorry! God, I’m worn out! But don’t tell your brother – he thinks I’m working too much as it is!” She massaged one foot, then the other.

  “Alex mentioned you have a new boss, and that he’s very demanding.”

  Instantly she noticed the slightest shift in Samantha’s mood – a tiny intake of breath, rapid blinking and a stiffening of her shoulders.

  Samantha picked imaginary lint from her trousers as she answered, “Yeah, he’s a nightmare! But we’re working on a new client portfolio at the moment and things should ease up soon.”

  Clearly, Samantha’s overtime was causing some tension between her and Alex. Anna decided not to mention the topic again.

  Samantha smiled gratefully at her husband when he appeared with a glass of wine and a hot plate of food. Anna refused to join Alex in a glass of wine, opting instead for tea.

  The rest of Anna’s evening passed in easy conversation. Time slipped by and, before she knew it, it was almost midnight. She excused herself and made her way home. She lived only a ten-minute drive away and was soon parked in the driveway of her small semi-detached house.

  As she sat in the driver’s seat, she remembered the files on her desk, the burglary and the sexual-assault cases, as well as the shooting of David Gallagher. She had managed to forget the awful revelations of her day earlier; now, alone in the dark, they came rushing back. She felt a momentary sliver of panic – she felt vulnerable. She reminded herself she was a black belt in Taekwon-Do, and took a deep steadying breath, before pushing open the car door, alert to every sound and shadow.

  The housing estate was quiet. An owl hooted in the distance; it was the only sound Anna could hear apart from her own quick breathing. The night was calm, the moon full and the sky bright with stars. The sound of her car door closing shattered the stillness and she winced.

  She pushed the key into the lock in her front door and stepped inside. Immediately she felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck as an icy chill crept down her spine. The house was freezing cold. She frowned, wondering if her heating system was broken. She reached out to drop her keys into the bowl on her hall table and jumped at the unfamiliar sound as they clattered loudly onto the wooden table surface. The bowl on her hall table had been moved – while she normally reached out from her first step inside the house and dropped her keys directly into the blue porcelain bowl, it was now further away, in the centre of the little table.

  With a shaking hand, Anna felt along the wall and flicked on the lights. The hall was empty, the house quiet. She willed herself to walk through to the living room. Fully alert, she turned on lights as she went, shivering slightly in the unfamiliar cold of her house. In the living room, her eyes scanned the small space. Her bookshelves were so fully packed that it would have been impossible to tell if anything had been taken. Her father’s old record player looked untouched, her mother’s collection of Bach’s cello classics beside it unmoved. Maybe she had imagined that the porcelain bowl was in a different position, she chided herself. And maybe the heating was broken.

  But as she made her way into the kitchen, and shivered in the icy-cold draught, her breath caught in her throat. The sliding patio door to her kitchen was slightly ajar, the thin white curtain billowing softly.

  Cursing, she moved quickly to close and lock it. That door had always been stiff and difficult to properly close.

  Anna stood in her kitchen and breathed deeply, trying to calm herself. She was trying to remember if she had opened her back door that morning before work. But it was late, and she was very tired – she just couldn’t be sure.

  There were only two explanations. Either she had stepped outside for some reason this morning and had forgotten to close and lock the sliding door afterwards. Or someone had been in her house.

  6

  Friday

  Mae O’Brien had wanted for nothing since the day she married Tom Gallagher. Her mother had worried he was too rough, and from the wrong side of town. But Tom had promised her the world, and Mae had seen him keep his word. A plush house in the fanciest part of the city, fast cars, real fur coats – she had it all. But, lately, things had begun to fall apart in Mae’s world. Life was spiralling out of control, and if there was one thing Tom Gallagher normally had in abundance, it was control. Drugs, cigarettes, street women – they all fell under Tom’s iron fist in this town. This was his city. So how had he lost control so spectacularly?

  First that bitch Kate Crowley had shot and killed their beloved youngest, David. Mae knew it was her – she had resented David for years – they had never got along. David was found dead in her house. To Mae, there could be no other suspect.

  Mae felt raw pain, a pain that wounded her physically and cut her to the bone. She was barely managing to lift her head from the pillow to eat.

  Tom had vowed to see her through it. For the last two days he had been sustaining Mae, and probably himself, with promises of vengeance. He had assured her he would let her pull the trigger when they had Kate at their mercy. But that hadn’t happened yet. She had disappeared. Mae had never wanted anything more than to get her hands around Kate Crowley’s throat.

  Tom had put the word out – and put a price-tag on Kate’s head. Thirty thousand euro for her body – fifty thousand to whoever brought her to the house alive. It was a lot of money, but Mae would have paid ten times that to see her broken and bloody on their tiled floor. The thought gave Mae comfort; it was something to focus on.

  Now, however, there was another problem – John was missing. The same day David was shot, John had disappeared. He was Tom’s second-in-command, his most trusted confidant; John was truly his father’s right-hand man. Tall and broad like his father, John would take over the family enterprise one day, see out any pitiful competition and make it an even bigger success. Mae was certain of that. But where was he?

  On Wednesday, John had telephoned his father to deliver grim news – a Garda source of John’s had contacted him to tell him that a man had been shot dead in K
ate Crowley’s house, and it looked like David. The Garda had apologised that he didn’t have more concrete information, but John had heard enough. He told his father he was on his way to the house, and he would be in touch.

  Except that he wasn’t in touch. His car had been found by the docks two hours later, seemingly abandoned. His keys, mobile phone and wallet were inside, the whole lot untouched, which in itself wasn’t surprising – no one in this city would dare to rob a Gallagher. Mae’s head hurt from trying to figure out if this was all connected – and how. She felt trapped in someone’s idea of a bad joke. They should be planning to bury one son but couldn’t move forward until the other was found. It was a living nightmare.

  By Friday morning Tom was increasingly agitated, pacing, shouting, demanding results from his street army. He was holed up in his office at the back of the house with Murray, his trusted associate. Word on the street was that the Meiers were in town – this was a first. Tom knew David was holding stolen goods for them but couldn’t fathom why they had flown into the city. If they wanted to negotiate new terms or arrange delivery of their goods, they could have gone through the usual channels. There had been an arrangement between the two families for a couple of years now; there had never been the need to meet face to face before. Tom had heard they had flown in on Tuesday, and he wondered if David had somehow fucked up. Were the Meiers responsible for John’s disappearance? The thought niggled at him – why were they in Cork?

  John’s disappearance did worry him – it was so out of character. After David was shot, Tom had sent Murray to search David’s house before the Gardaí got there, to remove anything incriminating. So far they had found nothing. Not a single thing. John still lived at home, and a search of his room had also yielded the same result. Nothing. Which in itself was a problem. David should have thousands of euro hidden for the Meier gang, and diamonds from a recent robbery. Although Tom had handed control for that element of his business to David, he still liked to know the ins and outs of their dealings. So where was the gear?