Page 137 of Her Last Walk Home

‘I must have been raving.’

‘Can you tell me about Aneta Kobza?’

After wiping his chin with his elbow, he said, ‘Who?’

‘The young woman we found dead Sunday morning. I think you knew her.’

‘What?’

‘You reacted badly to her photo.’

‘I’m not used to looking at dead people.’

‘You know who I’m talking about then.’

‘You’re putting words in my mouth.’

‘Someone was paying her a grand a month.’

‘Nothing to do with me.’

‘It came from a London bank.’

‘Still nothing to do with me.’

‘I believe you use a London bank for some of your business ventures.’ This was hearsay based on Brenda Morgan’s recent interview.

‘What are you suggesting?’

‘I have a host of suggestions, but I’d prefer if you told me the truth.’

‘I am telling you the truth.’ His cadence displayed the grit of a businessman used to getting his way. Used to lying.

‘You’re fudging it, Gordon. You’re involved in these murders either directly or indirectly. Let me tell you what I think.’

She paused, waiting for him to object. He merely nodded for her to continue.

‘You were paying Aneta Kobza to keep quiet about something. I don’t know what that was, but it was possibly someunderhand deal that she knew about. Then she decides to come to Ireland and scares the shit out of you. Or maybe you scared her that day in Cuan at the financial donors’ event. She freaks out, and then she’s abducted and doesn’t reappear for a year. When she does, she is starved, abused and very dead. Am I warm?’

He shook his head, leaving a sooty smear on the white pillowcase.

‘We found John Morgan’s photo among her possessions.’

‘I know nothing about that.’

‘Why were you paying her?’

He set his mouth in a thin line. Then his demeanour shifted to one of melancholy as he made his admission. ‘Aneta was my daughter.’

‘Shit.’ Lottie leaned against the wall and blew out her cheeks. ‘How? When? Shit. I’m so sorry for your loss. Did she always know, or did she find out and then blackmail you?’

‘She found out because someone told her. Aneta was the result of a regrettable indiscretion years ago. She was placed for adoption very soon after she was born. After her adoptive parents died, maybe someone who wanted to destroy me told her. Or else the adoptive parents knew and had told her. It doesn’t even matter, does it? I transferred a maintenance amount to keep her in Poland, but she wasn’t satisfied. She came to Ireland to seek out her birth mother because I wouldn’t give her that information, and I’m not giving it to you either.’

‘Why not?’

‘I was threatened. My fucking house was torched. I nearly died in it.’

‘I don’t understand.’

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