forty-five minutes, give or take. Maybe an hour.’
Katie put down the phone. She didn’t really have to go down to Sceolan Boarding Kennels herself. She could have sent Detective Scanlan down on her own to interview Mrs Cassidy, or detailed Detective O’Mara to ride shotgun with her if there was any risk of Eoin Cassidy giving them trouble. But after what Inspector O’Brien had told her, she sensed that there was something unusual about this case which might be worth looking into, and she seriously didn’t feel like spending the rest of the afternoon ploughing through her ‘in’ tray. She could make a start on that first thing tomorrow morning.
There was another reason she was tempted to drive down to Ballinroe East. Even though she didn’t like to admit it to herself she wasn’t in any great hurry to get back home to John. In fact the very thought of it filled her with a feeling that was close to dread. He had suffered so much, and the rest of his life was going to be one horrendous struggle, both physical and mental. How could she tell him to his face that she didn’t love him any more, and that he was going to be nothing but a burden to her?
She shrugged on her raincoat again and went along the corridor to Chief Superintendent MacCostagáin’s office. She knocked at his door and he called out, ‘Come along in!’ although when she went inside he was talking on the phone.
She sat opposite him while he finished his conversation. He seemed bothered about something, and he kept turning a pencil end over end and tapping it on to his desk. He always looked as if he were chewing a wasp, even when he was pleased, but now he was obviously angry, too.
‘No, I’m not at all happy about the way you’ve been dragging this out! Sergeant Lynch handled that situation perfectly correctly, and you need to inform him officially that he wasn’t guilty of any wrongdoing! The next thing I know, he’s going to be doing a Michael Galvin on us, and committing suicide because he thinks that his career’s over and he’s going to end up in prison!’
He paused to listen and then he snapped, ‘No! Absolutely not! Sort it out and then get back to me directly and let me know that you’ve sorted it out! Today! Yes, today !’
He banged down the phone and looked across his desk at Katie with his nostrils flaring.
‘Who was that? The Ombudsman?’ she asked him.
He nodded, still so angry that he was finding it difficult to speak. ‘They’ve already established that Sergeant Lynch committed no misdemeanour whatsoever. As you know, he wrote in his report that he’d seen Mrs Shelley standing on the pavement when he passed her by on the way to that hit-and-run on Grand Parade, but the CCTV showed her standing in the road.
‘He only glimpsed her out of the corner of his eye, for God’s sake, and she was less than three feet away from where he said she was. And it certainly wasn’t his fault that a taxi ran her over. I can’t imagine why the GSOC thought that was even worth investigating!’
‘And they haven’t yet told Lynch that he’s in the clear?’
‘No. But I shall do myself, right now. Holy Saint Joseph and all the carpenters – as if we don’t have enough accusations to put up with, without nitpicking inquiries like this!’
He paused to compose himself, and then he said, ‘I thought you were taking the day off, Katie. Weren’t you supposed to be meeting that poor fellow of yours, the one who lost his legs?’
‘Yes, sir, I was, and I did. John came home this morning. I was going to stay home with him for the rest of the day myself but Begley called me about this shooting down at Ballinroe East.’
‘Oh, the dognapper.’
‘Well, we’re not one hundred per cent sure that he was a dognapper yet. The kennel owner claims he was – the fellow who shot him. But we won’t know for sure until we have a positive ID. I’m going down to Ballinroe myself to have a word with the kennel owner, and also the
Katie put down the phone. She didn’t really have to go down to Sceolan Boarding Kennels herself. She could have sent Detective Scanlan down on her own to interview Mrs Cassidy, or detailed Detective O’Mara to ride shotgun with her if there was any risk of Eoin Cassidy giving them trouble. But after what Inspector O’Brien had told her, she sensed that there was something unusual about this case which might be worth looking into, and she seriously didn’t feel like spending the rest of the afternoon ploughing through her ‘in’ tray. She could make a start on that first thing tomorrow morning.
There was another reason she was tempted to drive down to Ballinroe East. Even though she didn’t like to admit it to herself she wasn’t in any great hurry to get back home to John. In fact the very thought of it filled her with a feeling that was close to dread. He had suffered so much, and the rest of his life was going to be one horrendous struggle, both physical and mental. How could she tell him to his face that she didn’t love him any more, and that he was going to be nothing but a burden to her?
She shrugged on her raincoat again and went along the corridor to Chief Superintendent MacCostagáin’s office. She knocked at his door and he called out, ‘Come along in!’ although when she went inside he was talking on the phone.
She sat opposite him while he finished his conversation. He seemed bothered about something, and he kept turning a pencil end over end and tapping it on to his desk. He always looked as if he were chewing a wasp, even when he was pleased, but now he was obviously angry, too.
‘No, I’m not at all happy about the way you’ve been dragging this out! Sergeant Lynch handled that situation perfectly correctly, and you need to inform him officially that he wasn’t guilty of any wrongdoing! The next thing I know, he’s going to be doing a Michael Galvin on us, and committing suicide because he thinks that his career’s over and he’s going to end up in prison!’
He paused to listen and then he snapped, ‘No! Absolutely not! Sort it out and then get back to me directly and let me know that you’ve sorted it out! Today! Yes, today !’
He banged down the phone and looked across his desk at Katie with his nostrils flaring.
‘Who was that? The Ombudsman?’ she asked him.
He nodded, still so angry that he was finding it difficult to speak. ‘They’ve already established that Sergeant Lynch committed no misdemeanour whatsoever. As you know, he wrote in his report that he’d seen Mrs Shelley standing on the pavement when he passed her by on the way to that hit-and-run on Grand Parade, but the CCTV showed her standing in the road.
‘He only glimpsed her out of the corner of his eye, for God’s sake, and she was less than three feet away from where he said she was. And it certainly wasn’t his fault that a taxi ran her over. I can’t imagine why the GSOC thought that was even worth investigating!’
‘And they haven’t yet told Lynch that he’s in the clear?’
‘No. But I shall do myself, right now. Holy Saint Joseph and all the carpenters – as if we don’t have enough accusations to put up with, without nitpicking inquiries like this!’
He paused to compose himself, and then he said, ‘I thought you were taking the day off, Katie. Weren’t you supposed to be meeting that poor fellow of yours, the one who lost his legs?’
‘Yes, sir, I was, and I did. John came home this morning. I was going to stay home with him for the rest of the day myself but Begley called me about this shooting down at Ballinroe East.’
‘Oh, the dognapper.’
‘Well, we’re not one hundred per cent sure that he was a dognapper yet. The kennel owner claims he was – the fellow who shot him. But we won’t know for sure until we have a positive ID. I’m going down to Ballinroe myself to have a word with the kennel owner, and also the
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