Chapter 48
He fidgeted with the sleeve of his green hoodie, which sported damp patches on the shoulders and a faded GAA logo on the chest. His jeans were ripped, and not by design.
His fair hair, slapped to his scalp, gave him an air of criminality.
Or maybe that was wishful thinking because she dearly needed a viable suspect to arrest.
‘Why didn’t you tell us you had been at the Healy house on Sunday?’
‘I told you I was there. I’m certain I did.’
‘Go on.’ Lottie didn’t disagree. She wanted to see if he’d mention his second visit without prompting.
‘I delivered the bouncy castle Sunday morning. Set it up and all. Mrs Healy was happy with it. Not so sure about the daughter. It was like she thought she was too old for it. But sure I do them for twenty-firsts and all. That was it. Job done until I went to collect my stuff on Monday.’
‘I’m not talking about Sunday morning, Mr Kearney. I don’t think you’ve told us everything.’
‘I’m a bit lost here.’ He clenched his fists, then, as if realising what he was doing, hastily dropped his hands to his lap.
‘According to witnesses, Mrs Healy asked you to come over later that day to check the castle.’
He squirmed on the chair, scrunching his eyes as if trying to recall that visit. Then he slapped the side of his head, eyes now wide. A bit too dramatic for Lottie’s liking.
‘Gosh, I forgot all about that. I was in the pub watching the match. Luckily I wasn’t drinking, as I had the car.’
Covering his arse, Lottie thought. ‘Go on.’
‘She rang me all right. It was bucketing down and the kids were inside when I arrived. I checked the apparatus was secure. Double-checked all the bolts to make certain they were fixed in the ground, even though I knew they would be.’
‘Anything else you care to tell us?’
‘That’s it.’
‘Did you talk to anyone?’
‘The woman herself. She came out and stood on the back step. Shouted over to me asking if everything was okay. I told her it was and left. That’s it.’
‘How did she seem?’
‘Okay, I guess. I don’t know her so I can’t really comment. Come to think of it, she didn’t look as excited or happy as when I was there that morning. Could be the noisy kids. I honestly couldn’t say.’
‘Where did you go then?’
‘Back to the pub. Caught the second half of the match.’
‘You weren’t invited in out of the rain? For a cup of tea or a glass of wine?’
‘No, I wasn’t.’
‘What time was that?’
‘When I arrived at the house or when I left?’ He must have seen Lottie’s scowl, because he quickly added, ‘I was back at the pub around four fifty. Cafferty’s Bar, if you want to check, though I’m not sure anyone missed me.’
‘You were on your own in the pub, were you?’
‘Yes. I haven’t many friends. You see, I live with my elderly dad. Another reason I don’t drink when I’m out. I could get a call at any time to go home to him. He’s frail.’ He tapped the side of his head. ‘A bit of wrong wiring in there too. Tough for old people.’
Tell me about it, Lottie thought, but kept that comment to herself.
‘You found the bodies at the Healy house on Monday morning. First on the scene. And you were there twice the day before. Unfortunate for you, would you say?’
‘Aye, I am unfortunate. But that poor family. Awful thing to happen.’
Even though he was expressing sympathy, it sounded rehearsed, emotionless.
‘How did you feel when you saw Cameron Healy on the couch through the window?’
‘Shocked.’
‘I find it hard to believe you didn’t go in to check if he was alive or dead.’
He blanched. ‘Jesus, I could see the man was dead. There was blood…’
‘You knew he had a wife and child. You’d met them. Did you not think they could be lying dying and need assistance?’
He was squirming now, eyes darting around before landing on hers. ‘I looked in the window, saw him there and called 999. No way was I going into that house.’ He paused. ‘How did they die?’
‘It was up close and personal. Thanks for your time, Mr Kearney.’
She had no reason to arrest him. No evidence of any wrongdoing. Just that he’d neglected to say he’d been at the house twice on Sunday. It could have been a slip of the memory, but she had the distinct impression he had consciously omitted to tell them about the second visit. If so, why?
Outside the Garda station Christy Kearney looked up at the sky and felt the rain on his face.
His mood was as damp and drenched as the weather.
His phone pinged in his pocket. He ignored it.
His father could fend for a while on his own.
He had enough going on without the cops being suspicious of him.
Enough going on without his father thinking he could contact him about fuck-all any time of the day or night.
He thought of the murdered family. They were at peace now. He wished he could experience something similar. He had landed right in the thick of it and he was worried.