Dead in Dublin by Catie Murphy

Author:Catie Murphy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2019-10-23T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Fionn replied a few minutes later, managing to sound baffled even through the medium of phone texts. We use two locks, she said. Why?

Megan started texting back an answer, then remembered that phones had the astonishing ability to allow people to communicate with their voices and called Fionn, who picked up saying, “What madness is this, calling when you could text?” She sounded tired and unhappy, but at least a thread of teasing made it through the question.

“I talk faster than I type. I was just wondering how many keys you would absolutely have to have to get into the restaurant without obviously breaking anything.” Megan tapped the speaker button so she and Niamh, leaning under the awning of one of the Grafton Street banks, could both hear Fionn’s answer.

“Oh, God. One, maybe. We use the two newest locks. The old one still works, but the key is so awkward, we’re always after forgetting to bring it, so we stopped using it. The new one is the best of the lot, but we use the other one just the same. It’s one of those you could break through with a credit card, except it’s stiff as a corpse and I’ve never met a credit card up to the task. Why?” she asked again, voice suddenly thin with worry. “Is it about Martin’s killer?”

“Yeah. We—Niamh and I—” Niamh waved, like Fionnuala could see her—”were thinking it had to be somebody who worked there. Who all has keys?”

“Me, Martin, Syzmon, Daisy—” Fionn named two of the other lead chefs, one of whom was Irish-born and one who wasn’t, but not the ones suggested by their names—“Syzmon locks up most nights. And Noel, who manages the club. But only he and Martin and I had keys to the back door. Everyone else uses the kitchen door, which has the same key as the new lock, plus a couple of others, and it’d be—I guess nothing’s impossible to break through, but it’s a massive, new steel door and you’d have to really want to go through it.”

“Did any of them really hate Martin?”

“The detective asked me that already,” Fionn said wearily. “He and Noel didn’t get on well because, Noel said, Martin was always sticking his fingers in how the club should be managed, when it was Noel who had the experience. I must have told him a hundred times to just let it roll off. That’s what I did when Martin had an opinion about how the restaurant should be run. But Noel had a harder time of it, maybe because he’s a man and—” She broke off, but Niamh snickered.

“And not as accustomed to ignoring men who don’t know as much about something as he does?”

“I didn’t say it.” Fionn’s voice turned regretful. “Are you two ladies out having fun without me?”

“If you call trying to solve a murder fun, I guess so,” Megan replied. “Should we come over?”

“No, I don’t think so. I know it’s only half six, but Alex gave me one of his sleeping pills.

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