after twenty years, and a few days later there had been an electrical accident at the institution run by the wife he’d abandoned years earlier. Coincidence?
I didn’t like coincidences. Neither, apparently, did James. “At the time you left this country, you were a member of the electrician’s union. Are you still an electrician?”
“I am. I have my own business in Bagenalstown.”
“Are you aware of the circumstances of the accident at Let’s Play?”
Nolan didn’t answer immediately, and when he spoke I thought I understood why-still covering for his union pals. “I might have heard mention of it, here and there.”
“Could you rig up something like that?”
“I don’t know the details, but I’d wager I could-sounds simple enough. But why on earth would I want to?”
James ignored the question. “Did you know the dead man?”
Nolan cocked his head. “And who would that be? I haven’t been reading the papers, you know.”
“Joe Murphy.”
“No, may the poor soul rest in peace.” Nolan shut his eyes for a moment.
“Were you aware that your daughter’s boyfriend was injured before Joe was killed?”
Nolan snapped to attention at that. “No, sir, I was not! I know nothing about any boyfriend, but if he’s my daughter’s choice, why would I do him harm? This whole thing’s a joke! Why would I come back to this country after twenty years and try to destroy Arabella’s business and my daughter’s happiness? You’d have to think me mad, man!” He sat back and glared at James.
I had to admit he had a point. Twenty years was a long time to hold a grudge, and if there were a grudge to be held, that honor went to Arabella rather than Nolan. I turned to James to see how he would react. His slumped shoulders told the story. He sighed. “Mr. Treacy, I have no reason to suspect you of anything. Your former connections with Irish malcontents put you on our local watch list, and I was asked to follow through on that. I’ll choose to believe you when you tell me that you didn’t know we wanted to speak with you. I’ve spoken with you now, and I don’t doubt your story, although I would be remiss if I didn’t verify it.”
“Of course,” Nolan said, gracious in his triumph. “I’ll be happy to give you anything else you need.”
“I’ll ask that you keep me apprised of your whereabouts, at least until we’ve cleared this up. How long did you intend to stay in Philadelphia?”
“I’d planned to go home in a couple of weeks. I’ve booked my flight, if you want to see that.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. Mrs. Heffernan, could I trouble you for some of that coffee now?”
We maintained a strained civility for as long as it took to consume a cup of coffee, and then I stood up. The men politely followed suit. “If you don’t need me for anything else, I’ve got a desk full of paperwork waiting for me,” I said, to no one in particular.
James looked surprised. “You’re going to the office today?”
“I am. If you recall, I’m still the new kid at the Society, and I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
“I’ll walk you out,” he said. He turned back to Nolan and Arabella. “You can stop by my office and leave me a list of names to verify your whereabouts, Mr. Treacy. I’ll let the police know I’ve talked to you.”
Arabella was fluttering. “Nell, thank you so much for coming by. And Mr. Morrison, I hope it wasn’t too much trouble for you…”
“Not at all, Mrs. Heffernan. At least I’ve accounted for your ex-husband. Nell, let’s go.”
CHAPTER 23
On the sidewalk, after Arabella had closed the door behind us, James turned to me. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
“Business?” I asked.
“In part.” He smiled.
I smiled back. “I guess. I drove-my car’s parked over there.” I pointed across the street. “You want to meet somewhere?”
He named a sandwich place on Locust Street, and we split up to retrieve our cars. As I drove down Market Street toward City Hall, admiring the view, I was glad for some time alone to sort out what I had just witnessed. Nolan Treacy had surfaced in Philadelphia twenty-some years after he’d left. He told an appealing story, but was it true? If he was in fact an Irish terrorist, albeit low-grade, he would be good at making up stories, wouldn’t he?
I parked in the lot across the street from the Society and checked my watch: there was no point in going to my office first. Instead, I got out and walked up Locust Street toward the restaurant. It was still early for lunch, and the chill in the air tended to discourage tourists, so most of the people on the street were moving quickly to get to their destinations. As did I. But James was already waiting at the restaurant when I arrived.
He held out my chair for me, and I shrugged out of my coat. A waiter appeared and handed us menus.
“Didn’t I just eat at Arabella’s?” I asked. I sighed and asked for coffee. James did, too, and ordered a sandwich to go with it. “So, what do you think?” I asked, once we were settled.
James smiled. “I’m not supposed to tell you, you know. But I have no reason to believe that Nolan is anything other than what he says he is. We did a basic check: he’s a small-town Irish electrician, with the wife and kids he described. In fact, he’s got a son working for him as an apprentice of sorts. His company did pretty well during the Irish boom years, but now he’s got a bit more free time on his hands, which may be why he decided this was a good time to make this trip.”
“Did you check his medical records, too?” I asked.
“No, we did not. Look, this isn’t hush-hush spy stuff-we made a couple of phone calls to our counterparts over there. Nolan has no record with the Irish police, and it looks like his life is an open book. It’s true that he flirted with Sinn Fein years ago, but so did a lot of people, and we have no reason to think that he’s had anything more to do with them since.”
My coffee arrived. I added sugar and sipped. “So he’s a dead end.”
“No, he’s a loose end that I’ve just tied up. I get to write up a report and copy it to the police department. Not that they ever thought Nolan was a serious suspect, as far as I can tell.”
I sighed. “Do they have any other suspects?”
He shrugged, which didn’t tell me much.
“Is that a
“Nell, do you really want to be in the middle of this?”
“No! But Arabella keeps calling me. And I did put you together with Nolan, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did. You’ve done your civic duty. But I’d guess Arabella would have shoved him in our direction anyway.”
“You picked up on that, too? No love lost between them. I have to say, he did abandon her, and she has a right to be angry.”
“Even twenty years later? After she’s done so well for herself?”
“Well, apparently this is the first time she’s been face-to-face with him since he left. She’ll probably get it out of her system quickly.” But for a moment my heart ached for Arabella, who was being buffeted from all sides: first the death at the museum, now the wandering ex. I hoped she was resilient.
“Let the police handle the incident, Nell. You can be a friend to Arabella, but that’s all.”
“You’re telling me to stay out of it,” I completed the thought for him. “I’d be delighted to. Is this the end of the business part of lunch?”
“It is. Unless there’s something new at the Society.”
“We’re still waiting for you to find our collections. And still hunting for a registrar. I assume Marty mentioned what she wanted to do about that?” He didn’t know that I knew that he had volunteered to help boost the funding for the position, and I wondered how he would respond.
I could swear he blushed. “She might have mentioned something. We’re still working on the collections angle. Don’t worry, we haven’t forgotten. Don’t give up hope.”
