A Terrible Beauty

for no reason at all.'

'I don't think they're very receptive to ancient Celtic rituals at the moment,' said Katie.

Inside the farmhouse, John Meagher was waiting for them. 'Can I offer you a cup of tea?' he asked them. 'My mother's baked some fresh scones if you're hungry.'

He took their raincoats and hung them up on pegs in the hallway. In the kitchen, Katie could hear his mother coughing and clattering plates. They went through to the living room where a turf fire was sullenly smoldering in the grate. 'Please, sit down.'

Katie sat on the sofa and John sat quite close to her. She could smell peaty soil and aftershave on his sweater. Lucy sat close to the fire, holding her hands out and rubbing them briskly. 'I never knew that there was anyplace socold, and sodamp.'

'You came to Ireland specifically to look into these murders?' John asked her.

'Oh, yes. My department head was really enthusiastic when I told him about it, and the university has given me very generous expenses. You don't very often get the chance to investigate a ritual sacrifice in the flesh, if you know what I mean. Most of the time you're dealing with illegible medieval inscriptions or crumbling old sixteenth- century documents. This is totally different. This is living, breathing mythology.'

John turned to Katie and said, 'I saw you on television this afternoon. You've made an arrest.'

'That's right. The evidence is pretty convincing all right.'

'So I'm not a suspect any longer?'

Katie laughed. 'Did I ever say you were?'

'It's your job, isn't it, to suspect everybody?'

'I never suspectedyou.'

'Why not? It's my farm, isn't it? Who else would have found it easier to lay that poor girl's body out in the field like that?'

She looked at him very hard. He needed a haircut and a shave. His black hair was curling over his collar, the stubble on his chin was like coal dust. His cornflower-blue eyes seemed to be telling her things, telling her secrets. She willed him to look away but he wouldn't look away and in the end Lucy said, 'Well?' as if she had interrupted a deeply intimate moment.

Katie said, 'We're still waiting for the results of some of our forensic tests, but I'm ninety-nine percent certain that we've got the right man.'

Mr. and Mrs. Kelly came into the farmhouse and John cleared a heap of newspapers off the sofa for them. His mother came coughing out of the kitchen with a tea tray and platefuls of scones and slices of rich fruit brack. Mrs. Kelly said, 'I wish you'd known Fiona. She was such an interesting girl. So romantic, soadventurous. She was never afraid of anything.'

Mr. Kelly said, 'This Tomas O Conaill character?does he have any kind of record?'

'I'm afraid yes. We've only ever managed to have him convicted for theft and intimidation, but he's extremely violent. He almost killed a girl last year and it wouldn't surprise me at all if he was responsible for a few other murders that we don't even know about. He's a Traveler, you see, and it's extremely difficult to get other Travelers to give evidence against him, even though most of them detest him. There's also the problem of correct identification. We know him as Tomas but his real name might not be. Even the Traveler children call themselves by all kinds of different names. It's a defense system.'

'But you seriously think Tomas O Conaill killed Fiona because he believes in this-witch?'

Katie nodded. 'That's why experts like Professor Quinn can be so useful to us. They can give us an insight into what his motive was. Otherwise, her death looks completely inexplicable.'

'How long before he goes on trial?'

'Not for months yet. We still have to finish our investigation and send a book of evidence to the prosecutor's office. But I'll keep in touch with you, and let you know when he's going to go to court. In my experience it's a very important part of the grieving process, seeing a murderer convicted for what he did.'

Mr. Kelly said, 'I want to thank you for what you're doing. I'm sorry if I lost my temper back there. You've been very understanding, both of you.'

Katie took hold of his hand. 'I'm going to make sure that O Conaill is punished for what he did to your daughter, Mr. Kelly. I'm not just determined, I'm passionate about it.'

They talked for a little while longer. They finished their tea but the scones remained untouched. As they left the farmhouse, John came up to Katie and said, 'Do you think we could talk? I don't mean now, but maybe tomorrow or the day after.'

'What is it?' she asked him.

'Nothing special. It's just that-well, I think I need somebody to talk to.'

She hesitated for a moment. The rain fell softly between them, as if they were being draped in fine wet veils. 'All right,' she said at last. 'I'll be at home tomorrow, lunchtime, in Cobh. Look, here's my address. Call me before you come. It'll only be leek-and-potato soup and soda bread, if you don't mind that.'

'Thanks. I don't mean to be a pain the rear end, but-'

'Everybody needs somebody to talk to, once in a while,' she told him, and walked back to join Lucy Quinn and the Kellys by the car.

40

Katie dropped Mr. and Mrs. Kelly off at the Country Club Hotel, a sprawling custard-yellow collection of buildings on the high cliffs that overlooked the river.

'I'll send a car for you tomorrow morning,' she told them. 'You can come into my office and I'll be able to