‘Charming, yet vicious. I wouldn’t want to be on the wrong side of him,’ Wendy said.
‘He could still have given the order for Gaffney’s murder. We need to know if that’s the case. When Larry’s back, the two of you check on Gaffney’s movements, see if he saw or heard anything and if he was trying to set up a deal.’
‘It’ll not be easy.’
‘That’s why I’ve got the best team in Homicide,’ Isaac said.
Chapter 11
Sheila Gaffney said little, her eyes red from crying. Ryan Buckley sat beside her, his arm around her shoulder.
‘I know he was a rogue, but I loved him, he loved me, and he always had time for the children,’ the woman said eventually. She had a happy look about her, Larry decided. Apart from the fact that she was pregnant, she was a short, roundish woman with red hair, rosy cheeks and a freckled face.
The house where the three of them sat was small, with no more than three bedrooms judging by the size of it, but it had a loved look.
‘Your children?’ Larry asked.
‘They’re not far away. The eldest, she’s the most sensible, the closest to her father, is next door with her best friend. She’ll be back here soon enough. The others are in the garden or with the neighbours. Seamus loved it here, and he was looking to come back on a permanent basis. Not that I had any idea how he’d fit in. He upset a few when he was younger, and they’ve forgiven him. But my Seamus wasn’t the sort to stay at home.’
‘Is that what he was planning to do?’
‘He said it was. Something about how our future was going to be better. Not that I wanted anything to change. He’s away for a few weeks, then back here for a few days. It was like a honeymoon every time, and now he’s not going to walk in the front door again, is he?’
‘Sorry, Sheila, but no,’ Buckley said. Larry could see the man’s genuine affection for the woman.
‘Do you know who? I know that people could get angry with him, but killing someone, that’s different, isn’t it?’
‘It is,’ Larry said. ‘Any enemies that you know of?’
‘Not Seamus. Was he involved with crime in London?’
‘On the edge. He was crafty, managed to avoid too much trouble. We let him go a few times with a warning, a swift kick up the rear end.’
‘Literally?’
‘Metaphorically. I used to meet with him occasionally, talk about this and that.’
‘He gave you information for money?’
‘He did.’
‘I told him that it would get him killed, but he kept telling me not to worry, and it was only general knowledge that he was passing on.’
‘Sometimes it wasn’t. Easy to upset people doing that,’ Larry said.
‘That’s what got him killed, talking when he shouldn’t. Mind you, he never wasted his money, and he looked after us well.’
‘We believe it was something more serious than that. Have you seen anyone suspicious around the house lately?’
‘I should get you a cup of tea. Forgetting my manners. Seamus wouldn’t like me doing that.’
‘It’s not important,’ Buckley said.
‘I must,’ the woman said as she got up from her seat and left the room.
‘You’d better go with her,’ Larry said. ‘Delayed shock.’
Five minutes later the two returned, Buckley carrying a tray with three mugs and a bowl of sugar, a jug of milk.
‘Mrs Gaffney,’ Larry continued after all three had settled again, ‘we believe this was not a local with a grudge. If anyone’s been around the house that looked out of place, we need to know.’
‘Well, there was this one man looking for directions, a foreign accent and I didn’t understand what he was saying at first.’
‘Could you describe him?’
‘Apart from the accent, he was about average height. I noticed that he limped with his left leg.’
‘How was he dressed?’
‘Smart. He wore a suit which was unusual for around here, apart from a Sunday.’
‘Sunday?’
‘Church. We’re all firm believers around here, even if Seamus wasn’t too keen. When he was back here, he came with me, never failed. Not so sure if he did in London. Probably not, I suppose. And he did like a drink, and he was close to the children.’
Larry could see the woman drifting. The initial tears had dried up. They were soon to be replaced by inconsolable anguish. After that, there’d be no more questions for some time.
‘Mrs Gaffney, would you recognise this man again?’
‘I would.’
Larry took out his phone and scanned through the photos of people of interest that he had on it.
‘No, it’s not any of them, although he looks similar,’ Sheila Gaffney said, pointing at a picture of Crin Antonescu.
Outside, their collars turned up against a cold wind, Buckley lit up a cigarette, gave one to Larry.
‘Was it him?’ Buckley said, referring to the picture of Antonescu.
‘We can prove that he was in London, and he doesn’t limp. The person that Sheila Gaffney met may just have been a tourist.’
‘We’ll keep checking, but this time of the year the place is full of them.’
***
Isaac dropped Wendy off at Challis Street. She had work to do after their conversation with Nicolae Cojocaru. He continued on to New Scotland Yard, parking his car on the street outside, a police-parking designated spot. He walked through the security at the entrance, showed his warrant card and received a badge to display inside the building, before proceeding through the first door to the main building and taking the lift to the fourth floor.
‘Isaac Cook, long time,’ Detective Chief Inspector Oscar Braxton said.
‘It’s not often I get an invite to such a hallowed place,’ Isaac replied in jest to a man he’d known for some
