Fergus rose from his chair and crept 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' voice trembled, “I’m Fergus Rafferty. I understand you have questions for me about Keenan Moynihan.”
"Correct, 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 stank of cigar.
“Relax, lad. You’re not here as a suspect. According to his cell phone records, Moynihan spoke with you minutes before his abduction. You conversation lasted but two minutes.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you called 112 to report?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What can you tell me about the evening, Rafferty?”
Fergus sighed. “Well, sir, Keenan called me as he walked home from campus. He had a habit of chatting with one of us as he walked. It helped to pass the time.”
“When you say one of us, who do you mean?”
“The group of students who worked on the project for Dr. MacGowan. We work together, so often talked.”
“So Moynihan called you and was talking about the class?”
“Yes, sir. He discovered our various student projects fit together and had gone to ask Dr. MacGowan about it.”
“Wait a minute,” O’Brien grabbed his pencil and leaned forward. “He went to visit with MacGowan?”
“Yes, sir. He went to Dr. MacGowan after class that morning.”
“Around ten o’clock?”
“Yes, sir. That’s about right. Class ends at nine-forty-five.”
“So he talked with MacGowan about his discovery.”
“That’s what he told me, sir. As we talked on the phone, he said he still found something odd about the projects fitting together.”
“So he wasn’t convinced when Dr. MacGowan told him it was done to find out if students were sharp enough to catch the connection?”
“No, sir.”
“Go on.”
“Well, we were talking as he walked, and suddenly, engine noises and yelling came through his phone. Keenan started running and shouted for me to call the police. Lots of grunting, and Keenan said What the feck. A different voice said something I couldn’t make out, followed by a loud clattering…like the phone got dropped. Doors slamming. Tires screeching and the engine noise faded away. After more traffic sounds, the phone went dead.”
“Do you remember anything about the other voice? Anything at all?”
“No, sir. But Keenan struggled, and the sound kept fading in and out. I'm not sure what happened or what anyone said.”
“Anything else you can tell me about this situation?”
“After Keenan’s phone went dead, I ran his usual route between the hospital and the campus and found what appeared to be a smashed cell phone in the road. I called 112." Fergus took a shuddering breath. "The police arrived and found what they described as unidentifiable bits of plastic. They didn’t believe me about Keenan.”
“Calm down, son. To an outsider, you must admit a smashed cell phone is unusual evidence of a crime. But I understand your concern and am glad you called 112. We now have a record of the event.”
“I want to find out who took him,” Rafferty said.
“I understand, Rafferty, and I appreciate your cooperation.”
“I hope my information helps, Chief Superintendent.”
“Healy!” O’Brien shouted. Fergus jumped.
“Yes, sir?” Healy appeared at the office doorway.
“Show Mr. Rafferty out and have the lads take him back to his flat.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Rod and Wyl arrived on the university campus early Tuesday evening. They stood in the auditorium scheduled for Rod's presentation on Don Giovanni.
“Wow, huge room,” Wyl said. The hall appeared to contain a minimum of 500 seats.
“Let’s go down to the stage so I can anticipate audience size.” Rod took a side aisle down to the skirt before climbing the steps to the stage. Wyl followed.
