A Fatal Liaison: Irish detectives investigate a cold-blooded murder by David Pearson

Author:David Pearson [Pearson, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: THE BOOK FOLKS crime, mystery and thriller fiction publisher
Published: 2020-02-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

“Fiona. Just a sec. Listen. I want you to take Dónal and a few uniformed Gardaí round to McCranny’s offices and bring in Freddy Taylor and blondie. It looks as if they’re up to their necks in people trafficking, so you needn’t be too gentle with them. OK?”

“Yes, boss. What have you found out?” Moore said.

“Later. Just get going for now, will you?”

Moore said nothing, but turned on her heels and went in search of Dónal Lawler. They commandeered a couple of uniformed Gardaí who were down in the canteen having their break, and left Store Street in two separate marked squad cars with blue lights flashing and sirens cutting through the morning traffic. They skidded to a halt outside McCranny’s office building, and all four dashed in and up the stairs to the office.

Melissa was seated behind the reception desk as usual, reading a magazine. The telephone was off the hook, the receiver being left down on her desk away from the rest of the equipment. When they came charging in, she looked up, but didn’t appear to be particularly alarmed.

“Morning, Melissa. We need to speak to Mr Taylor, and now would be good,” Moore said.

“I’m sorry, Sergeant, you’re out of luck. Mr Taylor hasn’t shown up today. But I can leave a message to say you were looking for him, if you like?” the girl said calmly, ever the efficient receptionist.

“Is Sinéad in her office?” Moore said, nodding to one of the uniformed men to go and have a look around.

“No. Same story, I’m afraid. It’s just little old me here today, and to be honest, I don’t know why I’m here at all. I might not even get paid!”

“Where are they, Melissa?” Moore asked.

“No idea. They were here on Friday, all business-like. But no sign of them today.”

“Have they phoned in?” Lawler said.

“Nope. But I have the phone disconnected anyway. I was getting too many horrid phone calls from the subbies and suppliers. Right rude some of them were. One of them even threatened to come around and sort me out! Honestly – some people.”

“Have you a mobile phone number for Taylor?” Moore said.

“Yes, of course.”

Melissa wrote the number on a yellow Post-it sticker and handed it over to Moore. She called it, but a message informed her that the phone was no longer in use.

“I need Sinéad’s number too,” Moore said.

The procedure was repeated with the same result. Moore drew Lawler aside.

“Dónal, go outside and call the boss. Tell him Taylor and the girl have gone AWOL. He’ll know what to do.”

“Right, boss.”

“Melissa, can I have word in private?” Moore said.

“Sure,” she said. She got up, and the two women went into what had been McCranny’s office and closed the door.

“Listen, Melissa, we have reason to believe that Mr Taylor, and perhaps Sinéad Walsh as well, may have been engaged in some activity involving the employment of illegal immigrants. Do you know anything about that?”

“No! Of course not. I’m just the receptionist.”

“You’ve never heard them talking about anything like that?”

“No, never.

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