"No, Dee, I'm not going to talk to you. Last time you frightened me to death - I've had to blackmail them all with the threat of telling Carmel about your disgraceful antics with Eric to get them off Ella's back. Fine pair of friends you both turned out to be."
"Shut up, Nuala. I told you if we had anything to tell you we would."
"Did you?" Nuala was confused.
"Yes, and now we have. I have Ella here and now we do have news for Frank and his brothers."
"You do?"
"Will I put Ella on?"
"Well, not if she's going to be cross with me," Nuala said.
"Not at all. She won't be cross with you. Here's Ella now."
"Hi, Nuala."
"Oh, Ella, I'm sorry. I don't think Dee explained it all properly at the time."
"No, Nuala, I'm sure she didn't. Have you got pen and paper?"
"Yes, I have." Nuala sounded very nervous.
"Write this. It's Don's telephone number in Spain. Oh, and he's not dead, by the way. That was a mistake. He's alive, but he calls himself Mr. Brady. I know, isn't it a scream? No, I'm not drunk, Nuala. That's the number and the other thing is that the Fraud Squad has his computer, with all the details, everything it contains.
Oh, and the last thing is that Dee would have gone the distance and told Carmel every last detail. She's been a marvellous friend."
"Ella," Nuala's voice was hoarse with fright. "They're going to be in terrible trouble if it all gets out. Not only will they have lost money and property but there's a matter of tax, you see." She ended in a near whisper.
"Oh, there often is, Nuala. Anyhow, we're all fair and square now."
Ella hung up and they giggled as they had done for so many years. "What I've been saying is getting easier to say as the day goes on," Ella said as she walked into Firefly Films.
"I hate mystery statements," Nick said.
"Don Richardson's alive and presumably coming back to this land in leg irons," Ella said.
"You're not serious? Sandy and I once wondered if he might have staged it," Nick said.
"You were right," she said crisply.
"How did you find out?" Sandy asked.
"I spoke to him on the phone," Ella said, and it didn't make her feel even slightly tearful. "I spoke, and he called me Angel as he always did, and he had never died at all. Imagine."
"Are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine, I'm fine, but I need to be kept very busy. Could I work here this afternoon until we all go to Quentins? I'm just a bit jumpy and I need to be with people."
"Why did he ring you?" Nick asked.
"He didn't. I rang him, or rather his wife. I didn't know he was still alive."
"And are you glad?" Sandy asked.
"I don't care, really and truly, I don't. Too much has happened to care."
They believed her, got her a sandwich, and sat her down so that she could write out a type of running order that they might go through at tonight's meeting at the restaurant. They watched her through the glass door, her head down over the paper as she planned out a very rough shooting schedule.
"Do you think she'll go back to him?" Sandy wondered.
"With any luck he won't be in a position to ask her." Cathy and Tom at Scarlet Feather heard from Ria and Colm that Don Richardson was still alive. Nora O'Donoghue heard it from them because she had gone into their premises to book a little wedding party. Nora was busy costing out the possibility of having canapes and wine in the back of a bookshop, which would let them have the premises free. There wouldn't be a huge number, but they had really very little money. Still, some things called for the equivalent of fireworks.
Cathy knew that the discussions were irrelevant since Brenda and Patrick had planned to give them a wedding present of a reception in Quentins. But they were only being told this much nearer to the time. Nora had been pushing Cathy for details of how many canapes each there would be for so many euros.
Then this news came suddenly out of the blue.
"I knew he wasn't dead," she said calmly.
"How on earth did you know that, Nora?" Tom was sceptical.
"I saw him this morning," she said simply, "getting out of a taxi in Stephen's Green." Tom and Cathy called Deirdre to alert her.
"Is she sure? She can be quite odd, Nora O'Donoghue."
"No, she's fine, she saw him, she said nothing and was going to say nothing because of Aidan, this guy she's going to marry, he was the one who knew him, taught Don Richardson's kids, and was conned out of money by him, she didn't want to upset him coming up to the wedding."
"Thank God she mentioned it to you," Deirdre said. "Now we can alert Ella."
"And maybe the Guards as well," said Cathy.
Ella's mobile number was engaged. So Deirdre rang Nick at Firefly Films.
"Don't panic, it's okay, I can see her, she's in the next room talking away on the phone."
"She's not talking to him, is she?"
"He doesn't have that number. It's a new phone."
"What will we do, Nick?"
"Why don't you find Derry somehow. I'll tell her parents. It's not as if he's going to do anything in broad daylight."
"It's just so that he takes nobody by surprise. Will you tell her, Nick? Gently, you know?"
"Sure thing, Dee," he said. "As soon as she gets off the phone." Ella was phoning Sasha, the girl who was now living in the Richardsons" Killiney house, the girl with Max, the lovely baby, and whose uncle Michael Martin was a great friend of Don's.
"Do you remember me, Ella Brady? I came to visit you on Saturday," she began.
"Well, am I glad you called."
"You are?"
"I was looking everywhere for anyone who might tell me where you lived."
"But why? What for, Sasha? I was just going to tell you that. .."
Sasha interrupted. "He's not dead, he never died. It was all a pretend suicide. He's alive, and he's coming back to look for you."
"No, he can't, the police know, he wouldn't dare to come back here."
"Well, he left his home in Spain last night. He'll be here today. He says if he can get to you first you won't sell him out."
"But I've done it. I've given everything to the police."
"He doesn't believe it."
"Who told you all this, Sasha? Who says he doesn't believe it?"
"Michael Martin, my uncle. He told me to pack up everything of mine and Max's to have the place looking perfect in case Mr. Richardson wants to stay here."
"In his own house? But he's wanted for huge frauds. He wouldn't go there in a million years."
"I know. That's why I wanted to find you. It's obvious he's not coming here, he's going after you." Derry King had begun his day at 5.30 when he walked to Quentins Restaurant to see if there was any sign of life and indeed he was proved right.
Eight large rubbish bags stood in bin containers, each bag tied and labelled. A private rubbish collector was removing them to a truck. The empty bins were left in the alleyway behind, some on their sides.
Derry nodded with satisfaction. This was one point he could score over Ella. She said no one was awake then.
She was such a courageous girl. She had faced everything so bravely. And there had been a lot to face. The only good thing was that this guy Don Richardson could not come back to Ireland now. It would be far too dangerous for him. So at least Derry didn't have to worry about Ella being in any danger. He went to get himself an early mug of tea. A small cafe not far away obliged. It was at times like this that Derry longed for a New York diner. Still, it wasn't too bad.
He nodded at the men sitting there. "You're up early," Derry said pleasantly.
"Big rush job, office block over there. We get treble time before seven o"clock in the morning," one of them said.
"Nothing wrong with that kind of money. Did it take much negotiating?"