Page 92 of Making a Killing

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Adam Fawley

27 July 2024

20.15

Ryan was right about the swank factor. River Terrace is a soaring slice of glass and metal with a view to die for, especially from the nineteenth floor. Siobhan Reynolds spends the first five minutes affecting to be embarrassed by the sheer gorgeous shininess of it all, and I can see Quinn’s seriously impressed but would rather eat his own hands than actually admit it.

I stand at the window, taking in the skyline, while she fusses around getting us water from one of those carbonator things in the door of a fridge the size of our box room.

‘This is quite a contrast with Kate Madigan’s house.’

She has the grace to redden a little at that. ‘I know, but it’s all down to Sean – he’s the big earner around here.’

‘You’ve been to her house, then?’

She falters a little. ‘Well, no, not as such. I just know the area. My gran was from Ardoyne, back before they built all those new houses.’

‘So you never actually went to Kate’s home?’

She takes a seat on the cream leather sofa. ‘No, we didn’t really have that sort of relationship. We’d have coffee after work sometimes. A curry, once, in town. But that was about it.’

She looks at Quinn then back at me. ‘I don’t know what the Head told you, but I didn’t actually know her very well.’

My turn to sit down. The leather squeaks; there’s obviously a technique to avoiding the fart noises. ‘We got the impression she was quite a private person, but that you probably knew her as well as anyone.’

‘I suppose so, but –’

‘What did she tell you about her background? Family? Previous jobs?’

A slight frown. ‘She said she was from Cork, but that was about it. I knew she’d worked in England for a bit but I don’t know where. I remember saying you could hear it sometimes in Sabrina’s accent and she’d just laughed and said it was because she’d been at school there.’

‘So you met her daughter too.’

‘Just once. It was one of those “Take your daughter to work” things. I don’t think Kate wanted to do it but Sabrina had insisted. I suspect that happened a lot.’

‘Sabrina was difficult?’

She considers. ‘Yes and no. I got the impression she didn’t go in for open conflict – the lying down screaming in Tesco thing – but she still got her own way.’

‘You think she was manipulative?’ asks Quinn.

She laughs. ‘God, yes. I only saw her the once, but if you’re a teacher you can spot the signs a mile off.’

My turn again. ‘We couldn’t find any record of Sabrina at any local schools.’

‘You wouldn’t – she was homeschooled.’

‘But if Kate was at work all day –’

‘She had a tutor for her.’ She sees my face. ‘Yes, yes, I know, she’d have had to shell out for that, but there you are.’

‘Do you know who it was? The tutor?’

‘A retired teacher – she lived a couple of streets away from them. I think they met through their church but I may be remembering that wrong.’

Quinn opens up his phone. ‘Do you have a name?’

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