“Because the night was to raise money for the new cancer centre in Altnagelvin Hospital. Being health minister at the time, I was already under scrutiny for fighting for a United Ireland. The Jacks were saying that I was trying to ruin all the hard work that went into the centre by abolishing the NHS with the rest of the UK’s policies. There were already arguments that month about ‘boarder hoppers,’” he air quotes, “who rented their homes in Derry to live full time in their holiday homes in Donegal, yet still benefit from free health care up north. It was a headache in the making, even if it wasn’t my anniversary, I would’ve found a way out of it. And before you ask, yes I donated generously to the cause.”
“And you haven’t heard any rumours or anything through the grapevine on what might’ve happened Mr Parker?”
Boyle feigns concern.
“No, of course not. And the PSNI would be the first people I would tell if I did.”
McNally looks at him disgustedly.
“No… Upset between you and him?”
“Why would there be?”
“Well, I understand he was trying to overthrow your party from power?”
Boyle chuckles.
“I doubt he had the chance. Our supporters have every faith in us, why would we be re-elected year in, year out if they didn’t?”
“So, no ill feelings… No falling outs… Threats?”
“I’m not a violent man, DI McNally… You will learn that about me in time.”
Sneering, McNally nods, before standing and thanking him, giving him the respect Boyle’s wife had showed them by ignoring his outstretched hand as they go to retreat out of the office. But just as they reach the door, McNally turns back.
“Wait…”
He’d said that he was health minister back then, therefore wasn’t the leader of Ardóimid.
“Am I right in thinking that you weren’t the leader of your party at the time?”
Boyle regards him with amusement, even Ferguson turns to him blankly.
“No, DI McNally, I wasn’t. I only got appointed last year.”
That’s why he wasn’t questioned. He hadn’t heard of another Boyle to be in power, especially working with Ardóimid. And he was sure he read on the paperwork they had spoken to a Darrell Boyle.
“Well then, excuse me, Darrell. But I’ve been in England for the better part of 20 years. Who was in power, then?”
Darrell looks at him confused.
“My father.”
“Darrell Boyle Senior?”
“Yes, I was first born and so inherited his name and followed in his footsteps.”
That explains it.
“Terribly sorry for the confusion, Darrell. It looks like we’ve got to speak to your father.”
How had Ferguson made such a silly mistake? McNally goes to give him an annoyed glance, but Ferguson looks away as Darrell stares at him darkly.
“I’m afraid you can’t, DI McNally. As he died last year.”
Chapter Thirty-Five:
Taking the pouffe was a bad choice, Chris thinks, as he’s in the centre of the room. Blocking the muted TV. All eyes on him. Dermott, whom he remembers from the original case, and Steph sit in the armchairs, whilst all of the Parkers squeeze onto the sofa. Danielle looking at him with such beauty and concern. Ritchie a cold glare, his jaw tight. Almost matching Steph’s daggered stare. The other three look inquisitive, which he’s sure they are. He hasn’t shown his face in over two years. But he has good reason to now, he believes. He coughs and bites the side of his mouth in thought.
“Er… So…”
Ritchie rolls his eyes and looks out of the window, shaking his head. Chris can see his left foot jitter impatiently.
“I have some news.”
Nuala nods, sitting forward.
“So, Dave… He asked to meet. And… Well… He was in the Crown for an afterwork drink…”
He gets the anticipated reaction of pursed lips. The Crown, in the east of the city, is well known for being a hot spot for trouble in the Waterside. And the rumours are that the underground organisation linked to the Jacks both own and run the pub. Anyone who enters the bar who are not in the organisation, or with some form of link to it, are stared at begrudgingly until they get uncomfortable and leave. It’s almost like a clubhouse. Dave’s uncle, Harry Wayne, was rumoured to be in the Jacks, and had taken part in some dodgy affairs that had led to his life tragically being cut short after getting into his car one day without checking under it first.
Because of this, he was an unsung hero in the Jacks’ community, and their entire family were always welcomed in there. Dave’s dad and Harry’s brother, Stewart, pays his respects in the bar every weekend. It was often criticised within their friendship group, but Dave had the gift of shutting down any guileful comments with a look. Many were too afraid to say anything after that, in case he was deeper in the organisation than he let on.
“Anyway… Er… So…”
“It’s alright, son,” Dermott nods encouragingly, “go on ahead.”
“Sorry… So, Dave heard some guys in a booth behind him talkin’ about them diggin’ up your da…” he blushes towards Danielle, “… they said that the police will be at Taylor’s door soon enough sniffin’ around. Said that it’s funny because there’s somethin’ they don’t know.”
Nuala nods, sitting forward as much as she can without toppling off the sofa.
“Apparently, on the night that he went missin’… The night of the charity event… Taylor had cornered your da… Er… Aaron…”
It feels weird saying his name, Chris thinks. He never addressed him, never had to… He wasn’t overly friendly. But he’s sure not many girl’s dads are very welcoming to the lad who’s riding their daughter.
“… They said Taylor asked him to join their party. They wanted to team up against Ardóimid and push them out of power.”
Everyone in front of him look away deflated, Michelle even curses under her breath, but apologises after a disapproving look from her mother. Dermott sits forward and raps his knee.
“We know all that already, son. There were rumours for months-”
“Wait, I’m not finished!”
That had
