He gave us a respectful nod and left to join his family.
Chapter 29
Noah Kearney showed us out of his home and we watched him lock up. He told us nothing more, but Mary thanked us again before he joined her and the children in a Mercedes GLS and drove them into the night.
“Why do you think he wants us to go to the races?” Andi mused.
“Doping?” I responded. “Gambling? Something sufficiently criminal to get a family home invaded and children tortured.”
Andi scoffed, “In these parts, that could be a pretty long list.”
We started through the woods toward the perimeter wall and our car.
Over an hour later, after taking the winding route back to the city and stopping for an Indian takeout from a restaurant Andi recommended, we were sitting at the kitchen table in our rental house in Fitzwilliam Square, spooning food from plastic containers into our bowls.
The deep scent of spices filled the air, and I caught hints of fennel, cumin, fenugreek, garlic and coriander. Andi’s recommendation was justified. The food was delicious. From the achar gosht, a hot lamb and lime pickle dish, to the chicken tikka masala, everything was perfectly cooked.
“Good, huh?” Andi said.
“Really good,” I replied. “Great choice.”
She took a swig from a bottle of beer. The owner had insisted we have four to accompany our meal, and I found the lager refreshing, even if the act of opening my mouth to eat or drink still sparked flashes of pain where the guy had clocked me with his gun.
“You think we should report the incident?” I asked, lowering my bottle to the table and rubbing my jaw gingerly.
“If they wanted it reported, they would have called it in,” Andi responded. “Whatever Noah Kearney is up to, it’s shady, but I’ll tell Conor tomorrow and he can decide whether the Garda needs to make it official.”
“Good call,” I said.
“I’ve been known to choose good restaurants and make excellent work choices,” she replied. “With men it’s a whole different kettle of fish.”
I didn’t respond. The kitchen suddenly seemed very still and small.
“I’m attracted to dangerous relationships,” she went on. “Ones that aren’t always good for me.” She took another sip of beer. “You know what I mean?”
I was sufficiently experienced to recognize unsafe territory. “Life can be challenging like that,” I replied. “I think I’m done.” I got to my feet and took my bowl to the sink. “Leave the dishes. I’ll do them in the morning.”
She watched me closely, her expression almost sullen. Had one beer been too much for her?
“I’ve got some calls to make,” I said. “Personal stuff. You’ll have to excuse me for being bad company, but I’m done for the day. Goodnight, Andi.”
I left the kitchen without waiting for a response and hurried upstairs, wondering whether I’d misinterpreted her words by reading them as an invitation. When I reached my room, I shut and locked the door. Just in case.
I phoned Justine immediately but didn’t really settle into the conversation until I heard Andi climb the stairs a few minutes later. I couldn’t tell if I’d imagined it or whether she really did pause outside of my room, but as Justine was bringing me up to speed with the latest from her doctor, I heard Andi climbing the last flight of stairs up to her room. The floorboards creaked and shifted above me, and her door closed audibly.
“Are you with me, Jack?” Justine’s voice brought my mind back into focus.
“Yes. Sorry. I was just replaying the day,” I replied.
“Busy?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“Dangerous?”
I hesitated. I hated lying to her, but there was no point in having her worry. I didn’t want anything impeding her recovery.
“Not particularly,” I said. It wasn’t dishonest. The day had been representative of my life in recent years. “It was interesting. We’ve developed a lead that we’ll follow up tomorrow.” I kept it vague. “How are you?” I asked. “How do you feel?”
She paused. “I already told you, Jack.”
“You told me what your doctor said.”
She sighed. “You’re right. I’m feeling okay, all things considered. I get tired easily and out of breath, but they say that’s normal.”
“You need to take it so easy, Jus,” I responded. “Rest and recuperation. No stress and no pushing yourself.”
“Yes, boss,” she scoffed.
We talked a little longer, but I could hear fatigue come into her voice. After we’d exchanged words of love, I told her I was tired and needed to sleep. We said goodnight, then I opened my secure mailbox and sent a message to Mo-bot asking her to check into Noah Kearney and see if she could find any connection to the Dark Fates or Propaganda Tre.
She replied quickly to tell me she was on it.
Satisfied Justine was okay, secure in the knowledge Mo-bot would find anything there was to be found, and exhausted by the day’s testing events, I took a couple of Advil to numb the worst of the pain and got ready for bed.
Chapter 30
I woke to messages from Justine, telling me how much she loved and missed me, and Mo-bot, saying she hadn’t yet been able to identify a link between Kearney and the Dark Fates or Propaganda Tre, but that she was still digging. On the face of it, Mo-bot told me, Noah and Mary Kearney’s business seemed legitimate and quite successful. They bred and trained some top-tier racehorses, and there were no allegations of irregular dealing against them. Not the sort of people one would typically associate with a dangerous criminal enterprise.
I replied to both messages, put my phone down, and went to my bathroom to shower and prepare for the day ahead. I emerged from the piping-hot water feeling refreshed and eager to discover why Noah Kearney had sent us to the races.
I put on a dark gray suit and black shirt, a smart outfit I felt wouldn’t be out of place at the races. Once dressed, I went downstairs to find Andi at the kitchen table, sitting where I’d left her last night. She was wearing a long green dress and seemed a little sheepish as she cradled a mug of coffee between her hands.
“Can I get you one?” she asked. “It’s not freshly brewed, but still pretty good.”
She stood up awkwardly and moved to the counter, where she’d placed a cafetiere of coffee and a clean mug.
“I’m fine,” I replied. “What time is the first race?”
“One-twenty,” she replied. “So we have plenty of time.”
She paused, and I sensed she had more to say.
“I think we should get there early. Check the lay of the land,” I suggested, trying to keep us focused on the investigation.
“Listen,” she said, “I just wanted to apologize in case anything I said last night made you feel uncomfortable. I think I was feeling the effects of exhilaration and beer, and I don’t want you to get the wrong impression.”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” I replied. “You did an outstanding job yesterday, and I owe you my life.”
She smiled, clearly relieved.
“It can be difficult to see the line sometimes, particularly in situations like this, when we’re living the job, but you were off the clock last night. A human being, rather than a detective.”
“A flawed human being,” she added quickly.
“A decent human being,” I countered. “You didn’t say anything wrong, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Good,” she said before draining her coffee. “In that case, let’s take a mosey out to Leopardstown and see what we can find.”
An hour later, after heading south-east through Dublin, we turned off and joined a line of traffic heading toward the racetrack. Even though it lay directly beside the motorway, it took us thirty minutes to join another line of cars being directed toward race-day parking.