‘No, no. I mean in general.’ Pearse was flustered now, and Kirby wondered if he’d get anything worthwhile from him.
‘What kind of relationship had he with the families of the two girls?’
‘Relationship? God, no. He hadn’t anything like that.’
‘Like what?’
‘You know what I mean. The only reason I let her in was because it was late and she kept her finger on the bell. I thought she’d wake up the whole town.’
Kirby nodded slowly, allowing himself time to formulate a question without revealing that he hadn’t a clue what Father Pearse was talking about.
‘And this was…?’
‘Sunday night. Pelting snow, it was, and she was shivering like a leaf. No coat or anything. I had to bring her inside, didn’t I? The humane thing to do. She was crying and shouting – it’d wake the dead.’
‘This woman wanted to see Father Maguire?’
‘Of course she did.’
‘Who was it?’
‘Oh!’ The priest appeared to have realised he might have put his size tens in it. ‘I thought you knew. God forgive me, but I can’t say.’
‘And this wasn’t the first time she’d called?’
‘Not at all. I told him time and again to leave it be. But Keith, being the good soul he is, couldn’t say no to her.’
Shit, Kirby thought. He suddenly craved a puff of a cigar, but he had to figure this out without the priest clamming up. ‘Interesting.’
‘She’s unstable. I knew something bad was going to happen.’
‘And it did?’
‘Sure it did. Those poor girls. How was Keith to know? None of this is his fault.’
‘Of course not. What else can you tell me? I need all the information I can get.’ Maybe this was nothing, or maybe it was the key to everything. He had to draw the priest out. ‘Sunday night was the catalyst, was it?’
Father Pearse pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, checked it was clean before wiping his brow.
‘I think so. And I wouldn’t mind, but some social worker had been on Keith’s case.’
‘That’d be Julian Bradley, would it?’
‘Yeah, that’s the name. But he was wrong.’
‘I’m confused,’ Kirby said, because it was the truth. ‘What was Bradley on about?’
‘He was making all sorts of accusations about Ruth Kiernan. But what could Keith do where Bradley had failed? He tried his best with the kids in the choir. Not that you could depend on Mrs Coyne to notice anything, and even if she did, she wouldn’t remember it.’
Kirby scratched his head, truly lost now.
Father Pearse must have noticed his bewilderment, as he added, ‘Mrs Coyne chaperoned the kids at the choir when the parents were unavailable. Child protection policy.’
‘Oh, I know that. And is there a chaperone at Mass? For the altar girls and boys.’
‘Not really. The sacristan is usually around, plus the congregation. Numbers are dwindling, though we do our best to be as approachable and modern as we can.’ Pearse removed his spectacles again and rubbed his eyes. ‘Even so, I don’t know if Keith saw the signs. A child can be a bag of laughs, a bundle of energy, while suffering in silence.’
‘When the woman arrived on Sunday night, what happened?’ He didn’t want to pressurise the priest for a name just yet.