Page 32 of Three Widows

Back at the till, Helena sat on the stool, hoping it would stop her head swimming. ‘Any news on him?’

‘No. I actually met a detective in town this morning and asked him for an update.’

Helena felt her heart flutter like a host of butterflies were trying to escape. ‘Was that wise?’

‘What could I do? He sat beside me.’

‘You need to be careful. We need to be careful.’

‘I’m well aware of that. Look, if you’re okay, I better head home and change out of these clothes. They make me look like an elephant.’

‘You look amazing.’

‘Ah, thanks. But after last night, I’m so bloated I could float.’

‘Could have fooled me.’

‘Has your mum still got your son today?’

‘My son?’ Helena blinked rapidly, feeling confused by the quick change of topic.

‘You mentioned last night that she was minding him.’

‘Oh, right. Yeah, she’s great. He stayed there last night and today.’

‘We’re lucky Éilis set up the group. It’s good to talk.’

‘It’s so lonely when your husband dies.’ Helena realised what she’d said. ‘I’m sorry, I meant when you lose someone… Oh, I’ll shut up.’

She noticed Orla’s eyes narrowing, and a darkness descended on their silvery blue like storm clouds gathering over the lake.

‘Helena, we need to keep quiet. Are you sure you can do that?’

‘Of course.’

Orla walked around in a small circle. ‘The thing is, if one of us talks, we all might die. Remember that.’

20

In her office, Madelene couldn’t concentrate. Word on the street was that the body found in Ballyglass Business Park was Jennifer O’Loughlin, Damien’s widow. She couldn’t find anything online yet. News reports just mentioned an unidentified female. But her know-all PA had heard the name.

She unlocked the old filing cabinet to her right and extracted Damien O’Loughlin’s personnel file. It was too voluminous for his ten years’ employment. But then Damien hadn’t been an exemplary solicitor. Far from it. As she went through the file, Madelene worried that the gardaí would come looking for it. If they found no reason for Jennifer’s murder, would they turn their attention to her late husband? Was that even rational? But she knew nothing was rational about murder and murder investigations. The guards would be all over this like rabid dogs.

What she kept on her computer files was slim, but the physical file… this could create a whole world of problems for Bowen Solicitors. She closed the cover and slapped her hand on top of it, trying to think of a reliable strategy. Was there really anything to think about? She knew what she had to do, even though it went against everything she stood for. It was unethical. But there was nothing ethical about Damien’s time with them.

She could still hear the slam of the door as he’d left her office following their disastrous argument. Four months later, he was diagnosed with oesophageal cancer. He’d died within two months. Though she had liked the young solicitor, Madelene was relieved. She’d believed that all her problems had died with him. Then Tyler Keating had gone missing and Jennifer had arrived asking questions.

Without thinking further about the consequences of her actions, she slipped Damien’s file into her black leather briefcase, locking it firmly before settling it at her feet under the desk.

She desperately needed to see Kathleen. Her friend was the only one who could ease the tension crippling her shoulders.

21

Lottie stared at the email containing the pathologist’s prompt preliminary report. Eyes surgically removed. Broken bones. Gunshot. Frostbite. She was dealing with a monster.

Boyd knocked and entered her office.

‘I organised a full door-to-door of Jennifer’s neighbours, the entire estate. And going by the reports coming in, not one person has seen her recently.’

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