Chapter 59
Liam was waiting when she emerged from the substation.
“You look like you could use a strong drink. And maybe some food? It’s nearly suppertime.”
She managed a weak smile. “Sounds good, thanks.”
“Muldoon give you a hard time, did he? The lad’s thick as a brick, but I don’t think he’s dishonest.”
“He doesn’t seem completely convinced I didn’t kill Esme myself,” she said.
“How’s that?”
“Reggie has somehow regained consciousness at the hospital and is not only proclaiming his own innocence, he’s blaming me.”
“Bollocks,” Liam said. “Why would you possibly want to kill Esme?”
“He’s telling the cops Therese and I sucked up to Esme because we were hoping to inherit her ‘vast fortune.’”
“Even Muldoon can’t be thick enough to believe that,” Liam said. “And if he really did believe you were guilty, he’d have you locked up right now.”
“I suppose. He left to go observe Esme’s autopsy.”
The look in her eyes was haunted. “Liam, the coroner says she was strangled.” She shuddered again. “Maybe if I’d gotten to the house sooner, I would have scared Reggie off before he could harm her.”
He grasped her firmly by the shoulders. “Stop. Don’t do this to yourself. No more ‘what-ifs.’ Let’s go get some food and whiskey in you, and you’ll feel better.”
The mood at the Willow Tree was somber. People, mostly older men, Maeve noted, stood at the bar, drinking their pints, talking softly.
There was a soccer match on the television, but nobody seemed to be watching.
The pool table was noticeably inactive, but a small bouquet of wildflowers, jammed into a beer mug, stood in the center, beside a lit votive candle.
Several men turned and greeted Liam when they walked in, slapping him on the back, asking him about his family. When they noticed Sinead, trotting along behind Maeve on her leash, the room fell silent.
Suddenly, a cry went up in the crowd. “There’s Sinead!” several men called. “There’s our girl.”
Soon, an impromptu receiving line had formed, with Sinead enjoying her celebrity, trotting from customer to customer, enjoying head pats, butt scratches, and tidbits of food tossed her way.
Liam led Maeve to a table. Rodney, the barman, walked over and took their order. “You heard about Esme, I reckon.”
“We did,” Liam said simply.
The barman stared at Maeve, and then down at Sinead. “I’ve, uh, volunteered to foster Esme’s dog, just until we can find a more permanent home for her. The police were going to send her to a shelter. Esme wouldn’t have stood for that.”
“Bless,” he said approvingly. “I can’t believe she’s gone.” He dabbed at his eyes with a bar towel. “Christ, she was just here yesterday, complaining about some nonsense. She still owes me for a bet she lost.”
“She was legendary,” Liam said, surveying the crowd in the pub. “Looks like the word is already out. Half the village is here.”
“God love Esme, the old biddy turns out to be good for business.” He did a hurried sign of the cross. “May she rest in peace.”
“Rodney!” One of the men standing near the pool table cupped his hands like a megaphone. “Get yer lazy ass over here and pour us a pint.”
The barman hurried away.
The tavern door opened, and a distinguished-looking silver-haired man stepped inside. He glanced around the room as though he were looking for someone.
Maeve turned to Liam. “Who’s that man?”
“Oh, that’d be Billy McCracken. He’s a solicitor.”
The solicitor looked out of place in the working-class crowd. He had a Van Dyke goatee and wore pressed trousers, a polo shirt with an embroidered crest over the pocket, and wire-rimmed glasses. He was clutching a briefcase.
“Odd,” Liam said. “McCracken’s posh. Never seen him in a workingman’s pub before.”
The barman set their food on the table—thick ham sandwiches for both of them, beer for Liam and a Coke for Maeve—and hurried away.
As they were eating, a constant stream of pub-goers stopped by the table to greet Liam and give Sinead a head scratch. “There’s a good girl,” one grizzled old man cooed, crinkling the cocker spaniel’s silky ears.
“It’s like they’re the dog’s grandparents,” Maeve commented.
“For all practical purposes, Esme’s family, and Sinead’s, is right here in this tavern. Mostly pensioners, I’d say.”
“Well, that’s sad.”
“’Tis. She was an irascible character. One of a kind, you might say.” He clinked his glass against the side of Maeve’s. “Sláinte.”
“Sláinte,” she repeated. She bit into her sandwich and chewed. “Why is bread here so much better than what we get at home?”
“Dunno,” he said. “When I was going to school in Kentucky, I used to wonder why you Americans put up with that mushy white sandwich bread.”
“Sunbeam bread does have its fine points. It’s key to making a grilled cheese sandwich,” Maeve informed him. “And it slays with peanut butter and jelly.”
She absent-mindedly pinched off a bit of her sandwich and fed it to Sinead, who’d been drooling since their food arrived at the table.
“I’m worried about what will happen to Sinead. After I head home.” She waved a hand in front of Liam’s face. “You like dogs.”
“I do.”
“Maybe you could adopt her.”
“Don’t think so,” he said, between bites of his sandwich. “Lucy is very particular about the company she keeps. She’s used to being an only dog.”
“You could take Sinead to work with you.”
“Impossible. It’s a distillery, not a shelter for orphaned dogs.”
“You told me earlier today that you’re the boss and you can do whatever you want.”
He gave her a stern look. “But I do not want to be responsible for a dog running around my place of business all day.”
“Liam Grogan!”
Billy McCracken stood looking down at their table. “I see Sinead has a new friend. When I stopped by the gardener’s cottage earlier, nobody could tell me where she’d gone.”
“Hiya, Billy.” Liam gestured to an empty chair. “We were just talking about what will happen to the dog now, with Esme gone. Weren’t you her solicitor?”
“That I am. It’s a sad day. A real loss for Tarrymore, and for me personally. Esme did leave me with her wishes on the matter of Sinead, but it’s quite difficult, I’m afraid.”
“My friend here was trying to talk me into taking her,” Liam said. “I was just explaining that was impossible.”
Billy McCracken turned his attention to Maeve.
“Ah, well, from the look of it, Sinead is quite comfortable.” He beamed at her.
“She’s a lovely little pup. Up to date on shots and that type thing, Esme always saw to that.
No trouble at all. And it would be a short-term arrangement.
Much nicer than boarding her with her vet. ”
“If I were local, I’d take her in a heartbeat,” Maeve said. “Unfortunately, I’m headed home to the States as soon as I get some legal matters settled.”
“American, are you?”
“Mac, this is my friend Maeve Dunagin. She and her sister have been visiting from Georgia. In fact, Maeve was at Esme’s house this morning. Her killer very nearly did Maeve in too.”
“Terrible thing,” McCracken said, shaking his head. “There’s never been much crime in Tarrymore. And now this murder…” McCracken stopped mid-sentence. He stared at Maeve. “What did you say your name is?”
“Maeve. My mother’s people were actually from Tarrymore, and she gave both my sister and me Irish names that nobody in the South can pronounce.”
“That’s extraordinary,” the solicitor said.
“It’s not a common name in Georgia,” she explained. “People want to call me May-Eve.”
“And your sister? Does she happen to be Therese Dunagin?”
It was Maeve’s turn to stare. “How do you know my sister’s name?”
“Extraordinary,” he mumbled. He reached into his pocket and took out a slim monogrammed silver case, opened it, extracted a business card, and handed it to her.
“I happen to have some important business to discuss with you and your sister.” He looked around the room. “Is she here with you today?”
“Therese flew home to Savannah yesterday. I don’t understand…”
“Well, that’s a bother,” McCracken said. “I was hoping to have this matter in hand sooner rather than later. Esme’s estate is complicated as it is. Having one of the beneficiaries out of the country is not ideal, but of course…”
“Hold up,” Maeve said. “Beneficiaries? Of Esme’s estate? What are you saying?”
McCracken looked flustered. “A crowded tavern is really not the ideal place to discuss this matter. Perhaps you could come to my office tomorrow morning? I’ll have some documents for you to sign, and I suppose we could get your sister to sign electronically. Again, not ideal.”
Maeve took a deep breath. “Mr. McCracken, I’m headed home to Savannah just as soon as the police give me the okay and I can get my lost passport replaced. I don’t think…”
“No, no,” he interrupted, his face reddening.
“You really cannot leave the country just yet. As I said, the estate is complicated, and some matters require immediate attention.” He nodded at Sinead.
“Exhibit A. Sinead O’Cocker. Esme specifically requested that you and your sister would become the dog’s guardians. ”
Maeve looked down at the dog, whose muzzle now rested in the crook of her elbow.
“She’s very sweet, but I’m not sure what the rules are about taking a dog back to the States. I bet there’s a lot of red tape, and quarantine requirements.”
Liam put a hand on Maeve’s arm. “Maeve, I think Mac here is trying to tell you that this business he needs to discuss is not just about Sinead.”
Hearing her name, the cocker lifted her head and looked adoringly up at Maeve.
McCracken took a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his face with it.
“What exactly are you trying to tell me, Mr. McCracken?” Maeve asked.
He folded the handkerchief into four neat quarters. “I don’t normally drink during business hours, but I think, this one time, I might make an exception.”
Liam stood. “I’ll buy. Whiskey?”
“Tarrymore’s best,” McCracken said. He looked at Maeve and she nodded.
“Make it two.”
Liam returned with the drinks and set them down on the table. “I’m just going to go, uh, visit the toilet. Give you two some privacy.”
“You don’t have to go, unless you really have to go,” Maeve said quickly. “Right, Mr. McCracken?”
“Please call me Mac. And as long as you don’t mind, I have no objections.”
Maeve nodded and Liam reclaimed his seat.
“Esme Rossington has been a client of our firm for many years,” he started.
“My grandfather and my great-uncle were her father’s solicitors.
That family has had its share of troubles and tragedies, but through it all, Esme managed to, if not maintain the family’s prewar status quo, at least not go down with the ship, as it were. She was a true eccentric.”
“So I gathered,” Maeve said wryly.
“Her health had deteriorated these past months, and she was quite cognizant of the fact that she had no close relatives whom she could call upon for assistance. In fact, under ordinary circumstances, she loathed the idea of asking anyone for any type of assistance. Her main worry was what would become of Sinead if she became totally incapacitated, or if she were deceased. She’d decided to leave everything to the Humane Society. ”
“And then she met my sister, Therese,” Maeve said. “Right here in the Willow Tree.”
“And your sister showed Sinead here some affection. And then she started asking questions about Esme’s family, and the manor house, and a missing ancestral portrait,” McCracken said.
“And of course, that was quite alarming. The painting had only just sold a few weeks earlier, and Esme worried that somehow these questions would muddy the waters with the auction house. She needed the money from the sale.”
“You knew about the portrait of Lady Geraldine?” Maeve asked.
McCracken puffed up a bit with pride. “I helped make the arrangements for the sale. Esme didn’t trust many people, but she did trust me.”
“I still don’t understand. My sister and I have only been here a little over a week. Esme just met us, but you’re trying to tell me that she’d trust us to take care of her dog? That doesn’t make sense.”
“I’m sorry,” McCracken said. He unfolded the handkerchief and dabbed at his forehead and temples. “Perhaps I’m not making myself clear. It’s not just Sinead you’re inheriting, it’s everything. In trust for the dog.”
“Everything?” Maeve’s brow wrinkled as she wrestled with the concept.
“Her entire estate. The cottage and the two acres it sits on, and all her other assets. Naturally, you and or your sister would be required to reside there, to care for Sinead, as her guardian, as it were. As executor of the estate I can say you’d receive an income derived from Esme’s investments during the dog’s lifetime, and afterward, everything would revert to you and your sister. ”
“Holy shit,” Liam said under his breath.
“Indeed,” McCracken said. “It’s highly unusual, but then Esme was a highly unusual woman.”
“But, why?” Maeve persisted. “We were strangers to her until this past week.”
“That’s not entirely true. There had been whispers among family members over the years, about a woman named Kathleen Connor who’d fled to America and was rumored to be the illegitimate offspring of Esme’s grandfather, Lord Rossington.
After your sister Therese introduced herself, Esme called and asked me to investigate whether it was possible that your great-grandmother was that Kathleen Connor.
Fortunately, my office assistant Jenny, who is actually my eighteen-year-old granddaughter, is a wizard on the computer.
She found your mother’s obituary, and her mother’s obituary, online in a matter of minutes. ”
McCracken pulled his cell phone from the inside breast pocket of his jacket. He consulted the notes app on his phone. “Your late mother was Mary Helen Sullivan Dunagin, and her mother was Julia Mary Murphy Sullivan, whose mother was the aforementioned Kathleen Connor.”
“I don’t believe this,” Maeve said. “It’s too surreal.”
“Once Jenny verified the family connection, Esme instructed me to draft a new will, cutting out the Humane Society and instead making you and your sister Sinead’s guardians, and eventually, her heirs.”
“But what about Esme’s brother Geoffrey? Shouldn’t he be her beneficiary?”
McCracken’s upper lip curled slightly. “Ah yes. Geoffrey. The prodigal son. D’ya know, he stopped by my office just an hour ago.
Carrying on about his dear sister’s tragic demise.
He seemed quite cut up about it. I hadn’t laid eyes on the man since his father’s funeral.
It’s terribly petty of me, I know, but I did take some pleasure in letting him know his sister had completely cut him out of her will. ”
Maeve looked down at the spaniel dozing on her lap. “I don’t know what to say.”