There’s No Place Like Here

51

Jack,” Garda Graham Turner said with surprise, “what are you doing back here? We won’t have results back from forensics for another few days, and I promise you we’ll contact you with the news.”

Time had got to Donal’s body before them, and had spared it no mercy. He had yet to be officially identified, though Jack and his family knew in their hearts it was Donal. Fresh and decaying flowers were found on the site that Alan had visited each week of the year. He had confessed his true story to police the previous night but had refused to give the names of the gang involved. Over the next few months he would stand trial, and Jack was glad his own mother wasn’t around to see the man she helped raise take part of the blame for the murder of her baby.

After discussing the night’s events with his family, it was the early hours of the morning before Jack returned to Foynes. The town was still celebrating the festival with all the energy of its opening hours. He ignored the sounds of music and singing, and went into the bedroom to find Gloria lying asleep in bed. He sat beside her on the bed and watched her, her long black lashes resting on the tops of her rosy cheeks. Her mouth was slightly open, soft sounds of her breath causing her white chest to heave gently up and down. It was that hypnotic sound and sight that compelled him to do what he hadn’t done for a year. He reached out to her, placed his hand on her shoulder, and gently woke her from her slumber, finally inviting her into his world. When they had talked all night about the past year and all he had learned in the past week, he finally felt tired and joined her in her sleep at last.

“I’m not here about Donal,” Jack explained, sitting down in the station on Sunday evening. “We need to find Sandy Shortt.”

“Jack.” Graham rubbed his eyes wearily. His desk and the surrounding desks were covered in paperwork, and phones rang all around him. “We’ve been through this.”

“Not in enough detail. Now listen to me. Maybe Sandy got in touch with Alan and he panicked. You never know. Maybe they arranged to meet and he got nervous she was getting close to the truth and maybe he did something. I don’t know what. I’m not even talking about murder. I know Alan’s not capable of that but-” He paused. “Actually,” he said, his pupils dilated with anger, “maybe he did. Maybe he got desperate and-”

“He didn’t,” Graham interrupted. “I’ve been through it over and over again with him. He doesn’t know anything about her, he had never even heard of her. He had no clue about what I was talking about. All he knew was what you told him, that some unknown woman was helping you find Donal. That’s all.” He looked Jack in the eyes and softened his tone. “Please, Jack, give up on this.”

“Give up? Like everyone told me to when I was looking for Donal?”

Graham shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

“Alan was Donal’s best friend and he lied about what happened to him for one year. He’s in enough trouble already. Do you think he’s going to bother telling us about what he could have done to some woman he cares nothing about? Was I not right about Alan the first time?” Jack raised his voice.

Graham was silent for a long time, biting down on his already nonexistent nail as he quickly made a decision. “OK, OK.” He closed his tired eyes and focused. “We’ll start searching the site where her car was left.”