Page 38 of Three Widows

‘Do you want to treat the two investigations as being related?’

She rested her chin on her hand, thinking before speaking. ‘Éilis hasn’t been missing for the required forty-eight hours, though I have a feeling she didn’t leave her home voluntarily. But is she connected to Jennifer’s murder?’ She shrugged. ‘The only thing linking the two women is the widows’ group. Why don’t you go and talk to…’ She searched her notes for the name Bianca had given her. ‘Helena McCaul. Jennifer’s boss mentioned her too. And find out if there are any other members we should know about.’

Once Boyd had left, she pulled on gloves and took Éilis’s notebook from the plastic evidence bag, along with the woman’s phone. Until they gained access to her computer, she hoped there might be something in the notebook about her clients. A list of phone numbers would help to save trawling through her phone.

‘Bingo.’ Éilis was old-school for a young woman. Inside the cover she had created a list of clients complete with alphabetical index tags.

Carefully she read down through the names and was rewarded when she came to the ‘O’s. Jennifer O’Loughlin was listed. She checked Éilis’s phone and found a series of texts about meet-ups. The notebook contained an itinerary of appointments between the two women. These matched with most of the texts. The first contact was twenty-three months previously. A month after her husband died, Jennifer had hired an interior designer. Éilis Lawlor. And another month after that, there was the first text inviting her to join the new widows’ group.

25

Boyd hunched his shoulders and pushed open the door to Herbal Heaven. A bell tinkled over his head, and he almost cracked his skull against the lintel.

He inhaled the oriental spice aroma and glanced around. The shop was small and appeared disordered, but as he wandered around examining the shelves, he noticed a logic to the way the products were stacked.

‘Can I help you?’

A woman appeared from behind the counter, her dress fluttering as she moved. He felt his breath catch in his throat. She was startlingly beautiful. Her hair was tied up, and escaping curls accentuated her porcelain skin, soft lips, and tiny ears sporting massive silver hoops. He drew his gaze to her penetrating brown eyes.

‘Oh, hello,’ he said, trying not to gush. ‘Helena? Helena McCaul?’

‘That’s me.’

He held out his hand. ‘Detective Sergeant Mark Boyd. Ragmullin garda station.’

Her grip was sweaty and fleeting. ‘You’re here to ask about Éilis.’ She dropped her eyes and set her mouth in a fine line. ‘Have you found her?’

‘No, not yet. We aren’t even sure she is missing. I believe you were with her last night. Is that correct?’

‘Yes, I was with her. Do you mind if I sit?’

She turned and wended her way back behind the counter, where she plonked onto a high stool. Boyd followed. The aroma of the shop was intoxicating; he actually felt a little light-headed.

‘What do you want to know?’ Her voice was lyrical, though slightly out of tune. He suspected she might have been crying.

He couldn’t help being struck by the woman. He figured she was in her early thirties. There was something about her that made him want to comfort her, to ease her pain. Irrational thoughts, he told himself, but Helena McCaul came across as a vulnerable human being.

‘Start with last night.’ He regained his composure. ‘We can work from there.’ He found his notebook in his inside jacket pocket. She handed him a pen as he opened it.

‘Sometimes we go out for a meal or to the cinema, but last night was much the same as most Thursday nights and we met in Fallon’s pub.’ She told him about the group Éilis had set up to help women who had lost their husbands through either death, separation or divorce.

‘Who else is in the group?’

‘Well, Jennifer O’Loughlin was one of Éilis’s first members, but she stopped coming about four, maybe five weeks ago. Then there’s Orla Keating, she’s our newest member. We’re a small group.’

He would return to talking about Jennifer after he got the information on Éilis Lawlor. ‘Bianca, the babysitter, thinks Éilis arrived home in a taxi. Was she alone?’

‘I had assumed she’d shared a taxi with Orla. They left the pub together. But Orla called in here earlier and told me she left Éilis at the taxi rank by Danny’s pub. She walked home to clear her head.’

‘The name Orla Keating is familiar to me. Wasn’t it her husband who disappeared a year ago?’

‘Yes. A year ago tomorrow.’

‘Right.’ He wondered if this was important. ‘Can you remember anything unusual about last night? Anything that sticks out in your mind as not quite right? Anyone taking an interest in your group?’

‘Not at all. It was low-key enough. Orla was a bit uptight. I can understand, with Tyler’s anniversary…’ She paused. ‘Look, we’ve all suffered loss in one way or another. We understand each other and our grief. But it’s not all doom and gloom. We talk about kids and pets.’ She laughed wryly. ‘Plus it gets me out of the house one night a week. With Jennifer we had an even number and went out for meals together.’

‘How do people find out about your group?’ He was still parking his questions about Jennifer.

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