McNally claps his hands together as the excited whispers begin again, shouting over their retreating heads that this remains out of the press and public domain for now. He then climbs out of his seat and stares at the picture of David Wayne, plucked from his social media account, as it rests on the top left side of the board.
“You alright, sir?”
McNally turns to see Ferguson lagging back from the crowded exit.
“Fine, Ferguson. Just brainstorming,” he resumes his attention to the board.
“Very good, boss. By the way, everything’s set for tonight.”
McNally looks around with wide eyes.
“It is?”
“Yes, sir. Jane says she’ll make steak, hope that’s okay?”
“Happy days, well I can’t come empty handed, that would be awfully rude of me… Red or white?”
“You’re the one who’s going to have to deal with Niamh, I’d suggest both!”
They both cackle.
“Naw, only joking. She’s really excited, according to Jane. You must’ve left a lasting impression on her the other night.”
McNally barely manages to hide his blush.
“Then again, she’s probably just looking to have us both around her little fingers in case she ever needs a get out of jail free card.”
Chapter Forty-Five:
Danielle sits with her head in her hands, staring at the carpet. She can’t believe what she’s just heard. Dave? Really? This is insane. This is just too much. This doesn’t happen in Derry. Well, it does. But it happens to someone you don’t know. Your Facebook friend’s cousin’s boyfriend, or something. Not to poor old Dave. Sure, he was a mouth, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly. They always said that his tongue would get him in trouble one day, but they never thought it would be something like this. And it looks like it never will again.
“I know you’re really shocked,” Dermott nods, looking at the family, “but I also have another bit of news.”
Their attention resumes to him.
“They’re releasing your father’s body today. Turns out there’s no other evidence to go on. So, you can start preparing things for the wake and the funeral. I could help with that as well, as a friend, if you wish?”
“Dermott, that would be lovely,” Nuala nods, tears still streaming, “thank you.”
“Don’t even think about worrying about the coffin, I’ve already spoken to a friend who is sorting it as we speak. It’ll arrive with the body inside, so you won’t have to do anything in that regard… Just you focus on getting through the next few days.”
“Thank you, Dermott,” Nuala nods, a hankie to her face, “what would we do without you?”
“Er… Tea?” Dermott eyes her, before she nods and stands, following him into the kitchen.
When the kettle is boiling and the door through to the hall is closed, Dermott addresses her again.
“There’s something else I’d like to ask you.”
“Anything, Dermott.”
“Cathal O’Flaherty, a journalist from the Londonderry Letter, has been in contact through a mutual friend. No, wait… Hear me out.”
Nuala had already rolled her eyes and stomped to the cupboard, retrieving cups and biscuits, seemingly washing her hands of the thought of allowing press access to them.
“I understand you’re suspicious and reluctant, but remember how they hounded you? Parked outside your house? If you give this boy an exclusive, it will keep them off your back. Give him everything you can, and there will be no more questions to ask… Not yet, anyway.”
Nuala sighs as she pours the boiling water into two cups, adding the teabags in as an afterthought. It was true. The press had basically lived at the bottom of her garden for weeks. Little did they all know that the answer to everyone’s questions was only metres away the whole time. Aaron’s body resting just behind their garage. Begging to be found. And what if they’d found him sooner? Would it have been any easier? Would someone be in prison right now? Fresh evidence? Or, if one of them had found him… Would it have torn their family apart even more? Her seeing her husband, or the wains seeing their da, in a vulnerable position like that. When he used to be their superhero… Their papa bear. It’s hard to tell.
“To be honest, I’m surprised how they haven’t found me yet,” Nuala mumbles, mind reverting back to Dermott’s request, who looks longingly at her across the table. “I mean, I used my middle and maiden names to rent this house, and I won’t let any of my details go online or in the address and phone books… But I thought they would’ve sniffed me out by now. I knew I’d have to face the music one day.”
“I would strongly advise that it’s in your best interest. And I’ll be here the whole time. I can make him stop when you want him to or nudge the journalist into the right territory if he tries to sway off topic. It’s better to have the media on this side of the door, rather than the other.”
Nuala hesitantly nods, rattling the spoon stirring the sugar off the side of the cup and dropping it onto the coaster.
“Okay, I’ll do it.”
Chapter Forty-Six:
Slamming his door, McNally tries hard not to scream out in frustration, but can’t manage to stop his closed fist coming down on his desk. Flinching, he raises his hand and stretches it out, hoping he hasn’t broken anything.
All morning had been spent speaking with several members of the Jacks. Locked up for sentences from GBH to dealing. And not one of them would utter a word against Taylor. He’d been met with so many ‘no comments’ it felt like it was burned into his skull. And all they did was laugh at him when he asked if Taylor had anything to do with Parker’s disappearance. Seeing he has an unread email;
