‘Okay, Ralph Ernest Begley. Satisfied?’
‘For the moment. Five minutes, at the park.’
Wendy phoned Bridget, updated her as to her movements, before driving the short distance to the park. Ralphie was waiting on her arrival, his bike propped up against a bench where he sat.
‘You’ll be seen,’ Wendy said.
‘That’s alright. The others know I’m here, and I’m taking them all to Maccas afterwards.’
The highlight for the local hoodlums, McDonald's, Wendy thought but did not comment to the young man, knowing full well that he probably came from a dysfunctional home, his parents in and out of work, drinkers, and the father possibly with a criminal record. Ralphie’s problem was that his outlook on life was an inherited trait.
‘What do you have?’
‘The money first.’
‘If you think you can be smart with me, then you’ve got another think coming,’ Wendy said as she opened her handbag, withdrew a small purse and handed over the money.
Ralphie looked at the money, the most he had seen in a long time, before stuffing it into the left pocket of his jeans. ‘I saw Sal on the television. They said she worked in a shop,’ he said.
‘She sometimes did.’
‘That’s not all.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Sal and me, we were friends. Nothing like what you’re thinking, but we used to talk.’
‘Why you?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe she saw that my life was similar to hers. She had ambition, did Sal. Not that she expected anything to change.’
‘Why?’
‘You saw Sal?’
‘I saw her dead body.’
‘Sal wasn’t attractive. Heavy-boned she used to say, and she could hold her drink. She tried to better herself, but her family are trash. You know that.’
‘I do.’
‘Anyway, Sal told me about this man. It seems he fancied her, don’t know why. That’s her words, not mine.’
‘Is this man important?’
‘If Harry Maynard finds out that I told you, he’ll find me and give me a good belting.’
‘Why?’
‘Harry is possessive. He regarded Sal as his property, not that he ever touched her. But Harry, he’s bad news. Alex, the younger brother, doesn’t do much, and the mother is a tyrant. I don’t like her either. Strange really, that from that flat came Sal. If she had been pretty and slim, she could have made something of herself. Always had her head in a magazine about celebrities and movies stars.’
‘An unhappy woman?’
‘She was, but with this man, he used to pay her money, she was fine.’
‘Prostitution?’
‘Sal didn’t think it was, but I saw him once.’
‘Describe him?’
‘Tall, foreign looking. Sal said he was from Europe somewhere.’
‘Romania?’
‘Where’s that?’
‘If you went to school, you’d know it was a country.’
‘I’ve heard of Romans,’ Ralphie said.
Wendy did not intend to give a geography lesson to someone who wasn’t interested, and besides, she hadn’t known a lot about the country before Briganti’s and Cojocaru. And now, something about the Maynard woman. A woman who five minutes previously had been a bit player in the murders.
‘Did Sal sometimes sell herself?’
‘Harry, if he ever finds out it was me, he’ll go crazy.’
‘I’ll not tell him it was you, but it’s important. You want us to find out who killed her, don’t you?’
‘I suppose I do.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I’m frightened. If they killed her, they could kill me.’
‘Why?’
‘I don’t know. But I watch those programmes on the television.’
‘That’s fiction, this is reality. Sal wasn’t the target, we’re sure of that. But this man, he’s important. Once again, was she selling herself?’
‘Her mother did when she was younger, I know that. But yes, Sal was. Not often, not that she minded much. She would have done anything to get out of here. And those actresses in Hollywood, they’re doing it all the time.’
‘Ralphie, you need to get your head out of your backside and look around. What they write in the magazines and put on the television isn’t fact, it’s pulp for the gullible.’
‘Sal believed it all, but then that was the way she was. Simple in some ways, smart in others.’
‘Smart?’
‘This man was promising to find her a place where they could meet, upmarket, with a concierge and all. She was excited, and she thought that he loved her.’
‘Did he?’
‘Not him. I saw him with her, the look on his face as he drove away.’
‘Did you tell her?’
‘Once I tried to, but she wasn’t listening. And besides, I know who he is. I saw him on the television, standing not far from where she died. He was in the crowd.’
‘You’d recognise him again?’
‘I would.’
Wendy scrolled through the photos on her smartphone. ‘That’s him, that’s the man that Sal used to go around with,’ Ralphie said.
After Ralphie had gone, she made a phone call. ‘DCI Cook’s office, thirty-five minutes.’
Bridget hung up her end of the phone line and arranged for everyone to be in the office. Wendy had not told her what it was about, but she had known the woman for many years. Whatever it was, it was important.
***
Larry had attempted to leave Ireland, even getting as far as the airport in Dublin and checking in, returning the rental car on the way. The same lady who had taken his keys was surprised to see him standing back at the counter twenty minutes later.
‘I’ll need to
