Page 14

‘Did you have a run-in with Noel other than the front door yesterday?’

Robert said, ‘He came into my place of work two weeks ago, shouting and roaring to stay away from his mother. It was embarrassing. He wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to tell him I hadn’t seen her. He’s a psycho, so he is.’

Kirby ignored Robert’s slur on Edie’s son. ‘Did he give any reason as to why he was verbally attacking you?’

‘He did not. You better ask him yourself, because I won’t risk going anywhere near him now that his poor mother is dead.’

‘You said earlier that you first met Edie in the eighties. Where was that?’

‘Galway.’

‘You from there?’

‘No. She was, but I was just working there.’

‘What were the circumstances of that meeting?’

‘It isn’t relevant.’

‘Let us determine if it is or not.’

Robert looked uncomfortable. He stood, opened the stove door, then shut it again before sitting back down.

‘It was a long time ago. We were young and foolish. I hadn’t seen her in decades, but then she walked into Danny’s one lunchtime about six months ago and smiled at me, and I felt the time was right for us. Back then, it wasn’t right. But of course, with Edie, no time was ever right.’

Kirby scratched his head. ‘Can you be more specific?’

‘I think I was a little bit in love with her years ago. But she didn’t want to know me. And even when we met up again, she was distant. But I was smitten and ignored the warning signs.’

‘What signs?’

‘I don’t want to speak ill of the dead.’

‘She can’t hear you.’

‘No, but if her son ever got wind of anyone saying a bad word about her, life would not be worth living. Anyway, I had a feeling that she was just using me. For what or why, I don’t know.’

‘Do you think Noel is dangerous?’

‘That’s a mild way of putting it. I think he’s a bloody lunatic.’

11

Kirby lowered the window, lit his cigar and leaned his elbow out into the warm sunshine.

‘What do you make of it all?’ he asked.

Martina let her own window down, fanning away the smoke. ‘He wants us to concentrate on Noel, but it might be a diversion tactic. He could be hiding something.’

‘Got that impression myself.’ He took a long drag, coughed, doused the cigar between two fingers and slipped it into his shirt pocket. ‘Did you notice anything in his kitchen?’

‘Like what? We weren’t in the kitchen.’

‘No, but I could see into it, the place is so small.’

‘Go on.’

‘There were a few stains at the sink, on the tiles. I thought they looked like blood spatter.’