Tears of the Moon - Di Morrissey [96]
Tyndall was now on his guard. He answered neutrally. ‘Yep. Turned up for work this morning. Checked the shed and boats, then I sent him off.’
‘Toby Metta tells me that he gave Hennessy some pearls before the murder. They weren’t on the body. Now what do you make of that?’
‘Sounds like robbery. Damned big loss,’ said Tyndall, trying to sound genuinely upset.
‘Of course. And you were going to mention this business of the pearls to me, were you not?’
‘Of course. Another drink?’
The glasses were filled in silence.
O’Leary carefully examined the contents of his raised glass, then looked across the rim at Tyndall before drinking. ‘It could cause me an immense amount of paperwork if those pearls turned up in certain quarters. To say nothing of the immense waste of government funds on trials and all that.’
Their eyes met. ‘I don’t think there’s any chance of those pearls causing a problem for you,’ said Tyndall quietly.
The sergeant finished his drink with a long gulp and smiled. ‘That’s good, John. In a way we might say justice has been done then.’
‘Without paperwork.’
‘Aye lad. Without paperwork.’
The following day Ahmed appeared at Tyndall’s office where he was sorting through Conrad’s papers and files. Tyndall looked up and Ahmed reached over and placed the bag of pearls on his desk. The men exchanged a glance but said nothing. Ahmed turned and left the office and Tyndall put the pearls in the safe.
The funeral of Conrad Hennessy was a miserable affair. Rain fell in a relentless, solid sheet. The red clay sides of the hole into which Conrad’s coffin was lowered, slipped and collapsed in a slimy mass, covering the sodden flowers on top of the casket.
Olivia held on to Hamish’s hand and the bewildered little boy kept casting anxious glances towards Tyndall, Minnie, Ahmed and Yoshi, still unsure of why his daddy wasn’t there. Niah stayed at home with Maya and waited for Tyndall, knowing he would be with Olivia. But for once her jealousy of Olivia was tempered by sympathy.
In the evening, when Tyndall had seen Minnie settle the sedated Olivia into bed, he went to the Lugger Bar, drinking until he could barely stand.
He staggered into the cool night air that momentarily cleared his head, but all he could think of was Olivia’s tragic face. Of all people it seemed unjust that a decent man like Conrad should meet such a brutal and unnecessary end. The business would survive but the hole in Olivia and Hamish’s life was dramatic.
Lurching across the road, he entered the shadowy park opposite the Continental with no idea of where he was going. But within a minute Ahmed was at his side.
Tuan, I have sulky. You go home now. No Sheba Lane.’
‘I don’t know where I’m going, Ahmed. It’s all bloody dreadful.’
‘Yes, tuan.’ Ahmed took his arm and guided him back across the road as Tyndall continued, ‘Poor Olivia. We’re going to have to look after her and the boy. Oh my dear Olivia … ’ He muttered and shook his head as Ahmed helped him into the sulky where he soon slumped across the seat and fell asleep.
At dawn Olivia awoke as the effect of the medication wore off, her head heavy, her tongue thick, throat dry. Without disturbing Minnie, she dressed a sleepy Hamish and, taking his hand, walked through the silent muddy town where the humidity hung like a wet steamy blanket. She walked slowly, sometimes carrying Hamish as his legs tired, until she reached the small bluff where Conrad was buried. There she stood by the red mud of the freshly covered grave. It overlooked the sea that stretched so far from this sun-drenched sienna soil by a turquoise bay to his homeland of white cliffs and soft mist. What a long journey their life had been, yet how short had been their time together.
Memories of London crept into her mind; of dusk seeping into her father’s shop on a winter afternoon and of Conrad bent over account books. Their simple marriage ceremony, where her widowed father confidently and proudly placed her in Conrad’s care. So soon after came her father’s death and, at her urging, their bold decision