Deadly Intent Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Acknowledgements

  Glossary

  DEADLY INTENT

  Anna Sweeney

  This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

  First published in Great Britain and the USA 2014 by

  SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of

  19 Cedar Road, Sutton, Surrey, England, SM2 5DA.

  Originally published in Irish as Buille Marfach

  by Cló Iar-Chonnacht in 2010 under the name Anna Heussaff.

  eBook edition first published in 2014 by Severn House Digital

  an imprint of Severn House Publishers Limited

  Copyright © 2014 by Anna Heussaff

  The right of Anna Sweeney to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

  Sweeney, Anna, author.

  Deadly intent.

  1. Murder–Investigation–Ireland–Beara Peninsula–

  Fiction. 2. Detective and mystery stories.

  I. Title

  891.6’235-dc23

  ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-8369-8 (cased)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-513-1 (trade paper)

  ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-519-2 (ePub)

  Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.

  This ebook produced by

  Palimpsest Book Production Limited,

  Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland.

  To Simon and Conall, for all your love, laughter and support

  ONE

  Thursday 17 September, 7.45 p.m.

  Maureen lay sprawled on a rough track in the countryside. She was in the shadow of an old stone wall where it was difficult to see her. Night was falling and the surrounding hills had become black shapes hunched over the fields.

  Slowly and gently, Nessa moved the torchlight onto her face. Maureen’s mouth was open, and her lipstick was smeared as if she had been dribbling. Nessa wished she could wipe her clean with a handkerchief. But the ambulance and the local garda sergeant were on their way. Everything had to be left exactly as it was.

  ‘Look, just there, on her head, that’s where the wound is …’

  ‘Is she still bleeding? Could you see properly when you found her first?’

  ‘See this large stone beside her, I think that was how …’

  Three people were talking at once. Nessa’s teenage daughter, Sal, was crouched beside her, and their neighbour, Darina, who had found Maureen, was standing behind them. She had been out for an evening stroll when she glimpsed a figure on the ground as she passed nearby. She had recognised Maureen as one of a group staying at Nessa’s guesthouse, and phoned her to raise the alarm.

  Nessa passed the torch back to Sal and took the injured woman’s hand. Her heart pounded. Darina was too upset on the phone to explain things properly and Nessa had not known what to expect. She had had to concentrate on the practicalities first, making emergency calls, gathering supplies, and ensuring that the rest of her guests were fine. She had asked Sal to take a shortcut on foot from their house to meet Darina as soon as possible, while she herself drove the longer way around.

  Maureen was alive; that was what mattered. Bending over her, Nessa could feel her breath on the cool air. Her guest was in her early forties, but she was a thin, nervy sort of person, and smoked a lot. She would hardly have survived a night out on a cold, damp hillside.

  Nessa released her hand for a moment and pulled an emergency blanket out of her bag, a lightweight aluminium covering that would help to conserve Maureen’s body heat. Questions crowded her mind but she pushed them aside. In the torchlight, she could see a shiny streak of blood in Maureen’s hair. She had to be kept warm, that was the priority until medical help reached them. It was mid-September and a chill wind blew in from the sea.

  ‘It took you ages to get here in the car,’ Sal complained to her mother. ‘Darina was in a real state.’

  ‘It took me a while to contact you, just trying to get a phone connection,’ said Darina. ‘I was afraid I’d have to run all the way to your house. It’s such a curse that we don’t have a reliable mobile signal everywhere.’

  ‘Her pulse seems OK, so let’s hope for the best.’ Nessa did her best to keep her voice calm. Darina was clearly shocked, her arms clutched around her chest. She was in her early twenties, and Sal was just eighteen.

  ‘Look at this stone on the ground,’ said Darina, pointing with her foot. ‘I think it must have caused the main wound.’

  ‘You mean Maureen fell over it, or maybe fainted and hit her head on it?’ Nessa gestured to Darina not to touch anything. She was worried that they had already disturbed the ground around Maureen.

  ‘No, Nessa, what I mean is, that it wasn’t an accident. I thought I’d explained that on the phone. Did you not notice her clothes? I covered her with my jacket, because she was really cold to the touch. But I left her skirt just as it was.’

  Nessa had just put the blanket over Maureen, but she lifted it and removed the jacket carefully, handing it to Darina. Maureen’s skirt was rumpled and torn in a few places. Two buttons on her silky blouse were open and the buckle on her wide belt was loose. When she covered her again, Nessa added a small rug on top of the blanket. She tried to keep a new wave of anxiety at bay.

  ‘You were right not to touch her clothes, Darina,’ she said quietly. ‘But we can’t be certain what happened.’

  Darina pulled on her jacket forcefully. ‘Well, it’s disgusting that anyone would attack a woman out in an isolated spot like this. I mean, it could’ve happened hours ago, in the middle of the day, and poor Maureen was left lying here ever since.’

  ‘I’m sure Sergeant Fitzmaurice will have his own ideas when he gets here. But we’re very lucky that you saw Maureen at all, considering this track is a dead end.’

  ‘Darina was walking along the little road at the top of the track, up where you parked,’ said Sal, who didn’t like to be left out of a conversation. ‘But you told me it wasn’t dark at that stage, Darina, and that’s how you managed to spot her?’

  ‘Yes, that’s it. I suppose it was a bit dusky, but I think … I stopped at the corner and just happened to glance down this direction. I’d stopped to pick a few blackberries, as a matter of fact, and I was wondering if I’d get more of them down here.’ Da
rina hesitated as she tried to describe the sequence of events. ‘I think it was her shiny blouse that caught my eye, but I’d no idea I’d find someone unconscious.’

  ‘Anyway, we took a few photos of Maureen while the light was fading,’ said Sal, clicking through the menu on her phone. ‘That was actually my idea, because I reckoned they’d make, like, handy evidence if there was a police investigation. But they’re not great pics, I’m afraid. The camera on my phone isn’t the best.’

  Sal sounded more excited than shocked. Her mother could well imagine the sort of CSI television images playing in her head, now that she had a lead role in the action. Life’s cares didn’t weigh heavily on her as they did on Darina.

  Nessa looked at her watch. The ambulance had to come from Castletownbere, over ten miles away on narrow country roads, and she hoped she had given them clear directions. There was a network of byroads or boreens, as they were known locally, winding and criss-crossing each other between the coast and the mountains. It would be all too easy to take a wrong turn.

  She willed herself to be patient. Help was on the way. If Maureen had not been found in time, it might have been impossible to send out search parties before daybreak. Nessa’s guests were taking part in a week of guided walks and other activities on the Beara peninsula on Ireland’s rugged southwest coast. On Thursdays, however, they were free to do as they liked, and Maureen had been out since mid-morning. When she had not returned for dinner at seven o’clock as agreed, Nessa made a few calls to check whether she was in the nearest pub or hotel. But if Darina’s call had not alerted her soon afterwards, she might have waited a few hours longer before becoming seriously concerned.

  ‘So what about Dominic? I presume you got onto him when Maureen didn’t turn up for dinner? And I hope you phoned him back with the news?’

  ‘Of course I did,’ said Nessa. She pretended not to notice her daughter’s needling tone. ‘He was out fishing all day but he left me a message a short while ago.’

  ‘And is he rushing to the scene, or what?’

  ‘Who’s Dominic? I don’t remember his name.’ Darina had crouched by the drystone wall, and was turning a small stone over and over in her hand.

  ‘He’s Maureen’s husband,’ said Nessa. ‘He’d said this morning that he wouldn’t join us for dinner, and I think his phone must have been switched off when I tried to get hold of him.’

  ‘I don’t remember meeting him when Maureen and the others came to the Barn on Tuesday?’ Darina was working to establish herself as an artist, and Nessa had brought her guests to visit her studio and those of other local artists. ‘But he must be worried sick by now.’

  ‘I don’t know about that,’ said Sal. ‘The story is that he and Maureen broke up for a while earlier this year. And from what we’ve seen all week, they won’t be nominated for a Happy Couple of the Year award any time soon.’

  ‘I’m sure Dominic is very worried about her,’ said Nessa.

  ‘Worried about money, more like,’ said Sal. She turned to Darina and grinned. ‘Thing is, Maureen scooped a big Lotto win a few years ago. She bought a pub with the proceeds, or so she told us the other evening. Then she was, like, “I should’ve invested in a toyboy for myself while I had my chance”. She was totally serious about it too. And there’s Dominic beside her, pretending not to notice while she blabs away—’

  ‘Please, Sal, that’s enough.’ Nessa stroked Maureen’s cold hand. Her skin was clammy, like fish just out of the fridge. It had become painfully clear during the week that she was vulnerable, with little sense of when to keep her mouth shut.

  She studied her face. Maureen cultivated a young woman’s looks quite successfully, but the signs of age showed under the harsh torchlight. The corners of her mouth were puckered, and her jet black hair was thinning. The bright cheerful mask she liked to show the world had slipped.

  ‘Why is the ambulance taking so long?’ Darina stood up and looked out into the darkness. ‘Once they turn off the main road and then up from the village, they should be here in no time.’

  ‘What I was wondering,’ said Sal, ‘is why Maureen made her way to this secluded spot in the first place? It wasn’t really her thing, was it, rambling around the countryside on solo outings? And anyway, why was she walking along a dead end?’

  ‘She wasn’t wearing walking shoes either,’ said Darina. ‘So if she had to run from her attacker …’

  ‘I think she was drinking,’ said Sal. ‘I’m pretty sure I got a whiff of alcohol from her, so maybe she fell when she tried to run. In fact, maybe she wasn’t attacked at all, and just fell.’

  ‘Poor woman, she could have screamed for help and nobody would have heard her. The nearest house must be five or ten minutes walk away.’

  Sal lifted the edge of the blanket and gazed at Maureen’s high heels. ‘Well, whatever happened, you’d have to actually ask yourself what brought her to Beara in the first place. We’re not exactly famed for the type of shopping and karaoke holiday I reckon she’d be into.’

  Nessa let go of Maureen’s hand and stood up. She held her counsel, but she had learned through her business that the reasons for people’s holiday choices were not always obvious. If their relationship was strained, Maureen and Dominic may have decided to spend a week with a group of strangers rather than face each other silently across a hotel table each night.

  ‘I’m going to switch on the car’s lights,’ she said then. ‘I should have thought of it when I arrived, so that the ambulance people can damn well see where we are.’

  A ribbon of sea shimmered between Beara’s dark coastline and the Iveragh peninsula to the north. Nessa stood alone by the car for a few minutes, troubled by the evening’s events. Large pale stones were scattered on the hills nearby, and in the glare of the headlights they appeared to her like bare bones protruding from the earth’s skin. She shivered as she thought of how differently things might have turned out.

  She looked back at the two young women lit up in the middle of the boreen. Their heads were bent towards one another as they talked. Sal was tall and shapely, her dark skin displaying her father’s African origins. Next to her, Darina looked slight and washed out, her pale translucent skin framed by thick sandy hair. The landscape’s black shadows encircled them.

  Nessa’s husband Patrick had left Ireland that very morning to travel to Malawi in southeastern Africa, where he had grown up. Whatever had befallen Maureen, and whatever its consequences, Nessa would have to deal with them alone. She also had several other guests to look after until Saturday morning. But meanwhile, it occurred to her that once Maureen was on her way to hospital, she should bring Darina back to the house to make sure she was OK. Then she could try to figure out her own ideas on what had happened.

  Her solitary musings ended when the arrival of the ambulance and garda car broke the night’s silence. The medics got to work quickly, organising a stretcher to carry Maureen the short distance to the top of the track. Meanwhile, the police busied themselves with photographs and measurements of the location. Just as the ambulance left and Nessa was hoping they could return home, Sergeant Conor Fitzmaurice started on a round of questions. What time had Maureen agreed to return for the evening meal? What time had Darina found her injured? Was there any reason beforehand that such an incident could happen?

  They were still talking when a car door slammed loudly nearby and a man got out. They saw Dominic blinking in the lights, trying to take in the scene. He was heavily built, his belly flopping over his belt, and was out of breath as he hurried towards them.

  ‘I tried to phone her earlier,’ he said. ‘I did my best to phone Maureen this afternoon.’ He stared at the faces around him. ‘I should’ve gone looking for her when I heard nothing back. I should’ve known something was wrong.’

  The sergeant stepped towards him. ‘Would you mind if I asked you a few quick questions before you head off to the hospital? I’m sure you’d like to be on your way—’

  ‘What I’d like right no
w is a proper explanation.’ Dominic looked around again and then pointed a finger at Nessa. ‘I went off on my own for one day, that’s all. One lousy day for myself, madam, and in my innocence I trusted you to keep an eye on your guests!’

  Nessa had no chance to reply before Dominic launched into a longer tirade. ‘But then again, you had other things on your mind this week, isn’t that so? You had a big shot visitor staying in your fine house, and you and your husband spent the week licking his boots, as far as I could see. You didn’t give two damns that your gentleman visitor was whispering softly in Maureen’s ear and that she started to believe, God help her, that he fancied a roll in the bushes with her? And now look what’s happened!’

  The sergeant tried to interrupt but Dominic had not finished. His lower lip quivered as he spoke. ‘You’ll be hearing more about this, I promise you. It’s not what I expected when I brought Maureen here on holiday. I call it negligence, and I’ll tell my solicitor all about it if I have to.’

  TWO

  Thursday 17 September, 10.00 p.m.

  Clouds were swelling in the western sky. Large and fat, they filled and billowed as they rose from the horizon. A bright sliver of moonlight separated them from the night’s blackness.

  Nessa watched a single cloud sweep ahead on its own. When the clamour of her guests got to her, she liked to escape to an unseen corner of the back garden. Just enough time to gaze at the sky and at the outstretched branches of the trees. Time to slow her thoughts, which were fizzing like demented flies tonight. She had spent the last hour and a half trying to get information from the district hospital in Bantry, attending to the rest of her guests and arranging for them to give statements to Sergeant Fitzmaurice, and all the while worrying about the implications of the episode.

  Her eyes followed the course of her solitary cloud, swift and buoyant across the dark backdrop of the sky. But she was unable to shake off Dominic’s outburst. She told herself it would come to nothing. He was upset, naturally enough, and needed to vent his feelings, but he was also clearly gripped by jealousy. Nessa was well aware of his target when he described a fellow guest as ‘a big shot visitor’. Oscar Malden was a wealthy businessman – and unlike Dominic, he was also a pleasant and courteous individual. It was hardly Nessa’s business if he and Maureen had been flirting under Dominic’s nose. What is more, if Dominic was so concerned about his wife, why did he go off fishing on his own?