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Leary shook his head at the waste of it, scooted up a bit to hunch over his tea. “He told how he tried to bring her back somehow, how he just drove around a bit, trying to make it all not so. Then he pulled off at the wood, you see, carried her in—her other shoe was still in his car when they picked him up. He says he said a prayer over her and left her.
“He’s very sorry for it,” Leary added, with a hard bitterness in the tone that told Eve he’d lost a lot of his innocence that day. “He said, more than once, as if that would make it all right and tight again. He was very sorry for choking the life out of the girl because she didn’t want him. Bloody gobshite.”
He flushed a little. “Beg your pardon.”
“I’d say that’s a pretty good description.” Gobshite, she thought. She had to remember that one. “You did good work.”
“If I did, it was because you told me how.” His gaze lifted to hers. “The worst of it all was standing on her mother’s doorstep, saying what you’d told me to say. Watching that woman break apart that way. Knowing, even though it wasn’t you who’d done what was done, you brought that pain to her.”
“Now you’ve given her and her daughter justice. You did the job, and that’s all you can do.”
“Aye. Well, I could live my life easy with never having to break a mother’s heart again. But the rest . . .”
“Felt good.”
“It did, yes. And does. Does it still for you when you’ve done it?”
“If it didn’t, I don’t think I could knock on another mother’s door.”
He sat another moment, nodding to himself. “All right then.” He rose, held out a hand. “Thank you for all your help.”
“You’re welcome.” She shook.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll just go out the back and not disturb your family again. Would you tell them good night for me?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“It was fine meeting you, Lieutenant, even under the circumstances.”
He went out the back, and Eve shoved aside the tea she had no desire for. Like Leary she sat for a moment in silence. Then she pushed to her feet and went back to where the family gathered. The music stopped.
She walked to Sean, waited while he stood up.
“His name is Kevin Donahue. They’d come this way to go to a party, and had a fight. In the car after they’d left, they had a bigger fight and he killed her in what he claims and probably was what we call a moment of passion.”
“Just . . . just because he was mad at her?”
“More or less, yes. Then he got scared and sorry, but it was too late for sorry. Too late for I didn’t mean to or I wish I hadn’t. He’s weak and stupid and selfish, so he took her into the woods and left her there, and ran away. You found her less than twelve hours after he’d done that. Because you did, the police were able to find him, arrest him. He’ll be punished for what he did.”
“They’ll put him in a cage.”
“He’s in one now.”
“For how long?”
Jesus, Eve thought, kids were merciless. “I don’t know. Sometimes it doesn’t seem long enough, but it’s what we’ve got.”
“I hope they coshed him first, good and proper.”
Eve struggled back a grin. “Kid, if you want to be a cop, you have to learn not to say that out loud. Bad guy’s in a cage. Case closed. Have some cake or something.”
“A fine idea.” Sinead moved in to take Sean’s hand. “Help me slice up what’s left of it, that’s a good lad.” She sent Eve a quick smile. “Eemon, get that fiddle going. Our Yank will think we don’t know how to have a ceili.”
Eve started to sit as the music flew out again, but Brian grabbed her, gave her a swing. “I’ll have a dance, Lieutenant darling.”
“I don’t do that. The dance thing.”
“You do tonight.”
