Mrs. Hallion placed two sugar cubes in a porcelain cup, added cream, and poured the hot tea. She added a small spoon to the saucer and handed it to O’Brien.
“Thank you.” The cup rattled as he took it from her.
“What did you want to ask me about, Chief Superintendent?” She picked up her tea and settled into a chair opposite him.
“We found one of your neighbors, Fergus Rafferty, dead in his flat.”
“Oh my,” her expression turned distraught. “He is such a lovely young man. He often ran errands for me. I’m unable to move around as well as I once did.”
“It happened last night, Mrs. Hallion. I wondered if you came across anything unusual.”
“Now that you mention it, I swear someone passed by.” She motioned toward the window behind O’Brien. “It was night, so I can't be sure. But perhaps I caught movement in the dim light of the passageway…at least I thought something moved.”
O’Brien set his tea down and retrieved a small notebook from his pocket. He made a notation about the possible visitor. “What time would this have been, Mrs. Hallion?”
“Oh…around eight o’clock. My program started on the telly, and I glanced out the window and thought someone passed by.”
“Can you describe this figure, Mrs. Hallion?”
“Oh my. I’m afraid not, Chief Superintendent. Anything passing by wore all black.”
“How much of the window did this figure take up, Mrs. Hallion?”
“Oh…if I guessed, about two-thirds of the way up.”
“And did the figure appear to be fat or thin?”
“It’s hard to guess, but I would say thin.”
“Did the figure move fast or slow?”
“More of a sneak, I'd say. Like the figure did not want anyone aware of him or her.”
“Anything else, Mrs. Hallion?”
“Yes…about five minutes later, a shout. It only lasted a short time. More of a mournful cry, really.”
“And did this come from outside?”
“No…it sounded more like it came from the bathroom,” she pointed to the back corner of her flat. Her bathroom occupied the right rear of the flat, opposite Rafferty’s bathroom.
O’Brien scribbled in his little notebook. “Anything else, Mrs. Hallion?”
“One more thing, Chief Superintendent. I thought something passed my window after the noise. Again, I couldn’t be sure. But I found it odd.”
O’Brien noted everything and placed the notebook and pencil in his overcoat pocket. He picked up his tea, drained the cup, and set it back down.
“Mrs. Hallion, thank you for the tea and for spending a few minutes talking with me this afternoon.”
“My pleasure, Chief Superintendent. I don’t receive many visitors, so I quite enjoyed our little chat.”
O’Brien rose to leave, and Mrs. Hallion showed him to the door.
“May I come back and visit with you again if needed?” He asked as she opened the door.
“Of course, Chief Superintendent. You are welcome any time.”
O’Brien stepped outside, put on his hat, and touched the brim as a goodbye gesture.
* * *
“Declan!” Ailbe raised his voice. “What kind of assholes are doing your dirty work? Come on…a hair dryer in the bathtub?” They both arrived home after work and Ailbe attacked as soon as Declan entered. This kind of thing jeopardized his plan and pissed him off.
“How did you find out about the hair dryer?” Declan raised his voice.
“It’s all over the feckin’ news!”
“Hey…you said take care of it…I made a call.” Declan shouted. “That’s the extent of my involvement. If you want it done so feckin’ perfect, make the feckin’ call yourself!”
“If this project fails, it's your feckin’ fault, Declan Knowlan,” Ailbe shouted back, “and it better not goddam fail!”
“I thought you controlled this thing!”
“So did I until this happened.” The shouting match continued. “Can’t you do a goddam thing right? I can’t believe I trusted you.”
“Well you can count me out for any more help with your little project,” Declan reached for his coat and rushed out the front door, slamming it in the process.
Shit, thought Ailbe, I need him back. He'll make trouble if he’s pissed enough. He ran for the front door and jerked it open.
