Lying in Wait(13)

‘Oh, em … before twelve anyway. You said I could stay out till then …?’ Laurence said, and I noticed his cheeks flushing.

‘Good, good, never heard you come in. We were fast asleep, weren’t we, Lydia?’

I didn’t know what to say. What had the guard said? Had we been seen on the strand after all? Andrew was clearly lining up Laurence as an alibi. It was a clever move, but he was being too obvious.

‘I suppose –’ I said.

‘Fast asleep,’ Andrew repeated.

Laurence looked baffled. I winked to reassure him that everything was fine.

He was not reassured.

‘What did the guard at the door want?’ he asked.

‘Oh, was it a garda?’ I said, keeping my voice casual. ‘Is there something wrong, Andrew? Something to do with a case?’

As a judge in the Special Criminal Court, Andrew had presided over a trial of IRA members two years previously. He had even been subject to some non-specific death threats. There had been talk of a sentry box being installed at the end of our driveway for a security guard, but Andrew wouldn’t countenance it. ‘I refuse to live in a fortress,’ he had said, and I agreed. Senior gardaí visited us on a semi-regular basis to discuss his safety and protection, but were usually invited into the library to talk matters through with my husband in private. Andrew rarely mentioned his work to us.

He paused before answering. ‘Nothing to do with any of my cases. A young woman has gone missing. The guard was just making routine enquiries. I told him I stayed in that entire weekend, two weeks ago.’

I was watching Laurence’s face and I saw flickers of confusion.

‘Oh, that’s dreadful! Where was she last seen? Around here? Why was he making enquiries here?’ I feigned concern, but I needed to know. Why did they come to our door?

Andrew took up his paper again, obscuring his face while he said, ‘They think a car like mine was seen recently near the girl’s home.’

That car. A vintage navy Jaguar, and Andrew’s pride and joy – he insisted on doing all the running repairs on it himself – it drank fuel and cost a fortune to run. He had been trying to sell it since Paddy Carey had sunk us, but couldn’t find a buyer. Why hadn’t he been discreet enough to park it away from her door?

‘Well, isn’t that just ridiculous? They had the nerve to question you? You need to have a word with someone about that, Andrew. The nerve.’

‘Well, it is an unusual car, Lydia. They’re just doing their job.’ There was a hard edge to his tone.

Laurence was looking from one to the other of us. Andrew excused himself from the table and left the room.

‘Mum … was Dad … didn’t he go out that Friday night? His car wasn’t in the driveway when I came home.’

I was surprised that Laurence had such a good memory about a night nearly two weeks previously, but he was right. I didn’t want to have to contradict him. My poor boy was so confused. ‘No, darling, it was there.’

But I had to protect myself too. ‘I had a migraine on Friday and went to bed very early, and your father must have come upstairs before you came home, I suppose. You just heard him yourself – he was home and so was the car.’

‘But were you awake when he came to –’

‘Laurence!’ I laughed now. ‘Why all the questions? Would you like another slice of brack?’ I knew how to distract my son.

The phone rang in the cloakroom. I was glad to get out of the room and desperate to talk to Andrew to see how much the guard knew. I answered the phone to a girl who asked to speak to Laurence. I was surprised. Nobody had rung for Laurence in months, and certainly no girls.

‘It’s for you,’ I told him, ‘a girl called Helen.’ He blushed to his roots as he went to take the call.

I found Andrew upstairs, pacing the bedroom. ‘We’re going to be arrested. The guards know. They know!’

‘What do they know? Exactly what did you say to them? Tell me.’

‘Her family reported her missing on Friday. The guards questioned the others who lived in her house, and one of them said that she’d been visited by a man in a car like mine.’

‘What type of car? Was she specific? Why did you park at her door? Fool!’

‘They know it’s a dark-coloured vintage car. He said she thought it was a Jaguar or a Daimler. Oh, Jesus.’

‘And does she have a description of you? Did she see you?’

‘No, she couldn’t have. I thought I was being really careful. I always wore that old trilby hat of your father’s with a scarf pulled up around my chin. Nobody around there ever saw my face. I didn’t want to be recognized, you know?’

‘Where is that hat?’

‘What?’

‘Where is the hat? Right now?’

‘In the cloakroom … Oh, Christ. They might come back with a search warrant.’ He began to tremble.

‘Stop it. Don’t fall apart, I can’t bear it. How many of those old cars are there in Dublin? Ten … fifteen maybe? The guard is just crossing you off a list. Nobody saw your face. I’m your alibi. You were here, home with me.’

‘But I think Laurence knows …’

‘He doesn’t know anything. We can convince him of that. Don’t give him any reason for suspicion. Throw some water on your face and come downstairs and join us in the drawing room.’