Page 38 of Her Last Breath

The priest dropped his cup in shock, the tea seeping into the carpet of his study, like a quickly spreading dark pool of blood.

Chapter 23

Father Walsh filled the silence between them by washing his empty cup, while Jane cleaned up the spilt drink. He muttered a prayer as he sat back down again.

‘Two people connected to Liam Harrison have ended up dead within days of each other,’ Jane said, pushing him to break any confidence he might have that could help her investigation.

‘No, Jane, I know what you’re thinking, but seriously now. No, Liam would’nt do that to Mark. My God, Liam wouldn’t even harm him, let alone do something so drastic. You have to understand someone like Liam, big and bullish on the outside, is a target in there. People think he’s a tough guy, really go for him. Mark was a spindly fellow, but very strong. He protected Liam, saved his life on a couple of occasions. Liam felt like he owed him.’

‘Mark punched him in the face,’ Jane countered heatedly. ‘He was breaking up a fight. Do you know what your precious Liam was doing after prison? Battering Alice, until Mark stepped in. According to Alice’s parents that wasn’t the only time he had been violent with her.’

Father Michael looked down into his lap, his fingers now playing with a rosary he pulled from his pocket.

‘Liam has many problems, my child. Still, I don’t think he would ever hurt Mark.’

‘And Alice?’

The clicking of the rosary beads was the only sound. She had her answer. ‘Is there anything else you can tell me about Alice, Father?’

‘Nothing. Check with Colin, though.’

‘The foodbank manager?’

‘Yes, he knew her very well. I think he had a thing for her, or maybe he just felt sorry for her. Always saving her the posh stuff we occasionally got.’

Jane couldn’t hide her surprise. Why had Colin Wilson lied so blatantly to her about knowing Alice?

‘Thank you, Father. If you think of anything else, please let me know.’

‘Of course.’

He got up to show her out, then stopped her. He held her hands tightly, looking deep into her eyes. This close she really could see the crinkled skin, the eyes with grey rings round them.

‘How is your mother? Has she moved to the hospice yet?’

‘No. She wants to die at home.’

‘You’re a good soul for doing that.’

He squeezed her hands. She felt an urge to weep at his compassion, at his words.

‘I don’t think I am. But whatever happened between us, I want her to have a death with dignity.’

‘I will visit her soon.’

‘Thank you, Father, I know she’ll appreciate that.’

He smiled at her.

‘Has she ever said anything to you about Ed?’ Jane asked. ‘Or my aunt Melody?’

His smile vanished. The priest lowered his eyes, shook his head. Jane could see he was lying, his tells all over the place. He wouldn’t reveal anything to her though, she knew that. Especially if her mother had said something to him in confession.

‘There’s a sad story and a half with those two sisters. If Melody and your ma were on better terms, they could have sought comfort in each other, especially both being widows.’

‘Aunty Melody isn’t a widow,’ Jane replied, frowning. ‘Uncle Phil just moved away.’

‘Yes, yes, of course. Old age now, I do get myself confused.’