Page 195 of The Texas Sterling Collection
“Do I have time for a quick bath?” he asked.
“As long as it’s quick,” the officer responded.
Ten minutes later, Fergus was bathed and dressed. He grabbed his jacket and showed the officers out the door.
Uncertainty knotted Fergus’s stomach as they parked at the station. His mind raced through everything he had done, from the pack of gum he stole from the corner grocery as a child to the teenage pranks he pulled with his buddies in high school. Did they know about all those things? Keenan’s death screamed in his mind.Surely they don’t suspect I had anything to do with Keenan’s murder. He recalled Keenan’s anguished cries before the phone went dead. He followed the officers into the Gardaí station.
“Fergus Rafferty to see the Chief,” one of the officers informed the desk sergeant.
He pointed to a bench on the other side of the room. “Sit there, Mr. Rafferty. We’ll summon you.”
“Yes, sir,” Fergus hoped someone would tell him why, but nobody had volunteered. He sat for what seemed like an hour, but glancing at his watch, he discovered only five minutes had lapsed.
“Mr. Rafferty?” a lanky, red-headed man called his name, holding a door open that led into the bowels of the Gardaí station. “Come this way.”
“Yes, sir.” Fergus stood and walked through the door the man held open. Visions of a firing squad waiting in a hidden courtyard flashed through his mind.Was stealing chewing gum an offense punishable by the death penalty?
“I’m Sergeant Healy. Chief Superintendent O’Brien wants to ask a few questions about Keenan Moynihan. Right this way.” Healy led Fergus down a long hallway.
At least now I know why I’m here.They turned a corner and continued down the hallway to the door at the end, markedChief Superintendent.
Healy opened the door for Fergus, leading him to enter.
“Have a seat.” Healy pointed to the chairs in front of his desk. “I’ll let Chief Superintendent O’Brien know you are here.”
He left Fergus alone while he stepped into the next office.
“Fergus Rafferty is here, sir,” Healy announced.
“Well, show him in, Sergeant,” O’Brien responded gruffly.
Healy motioned from the doorway. “Mr. Rafferty, in here, please.”
Fergus cautiously rose from his chair and walked into O’Brien’s office.
“This is Chief Superintendent O’Brien.” Healy introduced Fergus to the gruff man behind the desk.
“Chief Superintendent, sir,” Fergus said, a slight tremor in his voice, “I’m Fergus Rafferty. I understand you have questions for me about Keenan Moynihan.”
“That is right, son. Have a seat.”
Fergus took the worn leather chair in front of O’Brien’s desk. It creaked as he sat. The entire office smelled of cigar.
“Relax, lad. You’re not here as a suspect. According to his cell phone records, you were the last person to speak to Moynihan. The conversation was quite short.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you called 112 to report?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What can you tell me about that evening, Rafferty?”
Fergus sighed. “Well, sir, Keenan called me as he walked home from campus. He usually chatted with one of us as he walked. It helped to pass the time.”
“When you sayone of us, who do you mean?”
“The group of students who worked on the project for Dr. MacGowan. We work closely together, so we often talk.”
