“Dec…please,” he pleaded. “Don’t leave. I didn’t mean to shout at you.” Ailbe remained angry about how Rafferty’s death occurred, but he needed Declan on his side.
Declan stood at his car's open door and spoke quietly to keep the neighbors from snooping. “You sure sounded like you meant it."
Ailbe approached Declan. “Come back inside. Let’s talk about how we’ll handle the police. They’re bound to come around asking questions.”
“You must realize I have no control over how these things are done. I make a call and pay them off.”
“Pay them off?”
“Sure. You think this kind of service is free?”
“I suppose I never gave it much thought. How much?”
“Five thousand Euros for this type of thing. More if we want total control. Money is the reason I don't specify how it’s done.”
“And you paid the same amount for Moynihan too?”
“Yes.”
“Where did you come up with the money?”
“I saved up in case you dumped me.”
“Dumped you?”
“Come on, Ailbe. Our relationship is last year’s news.”
Ailbe studied the ground. He determined their partnership lost its excitement months ago but didn’t realize Declan thought so, too. He must succeed with this project. Declan could derail everything if given a chance.
“What, because we have cross words you think we’re through?” Ailbe hoped Declan didn’t detect the lie.
“We go through the motions of being a couple, but let’s face it, you don’t love me anymore.”
“I don't believe you.” Ailbe must keep the charade going…at least until the money day. “What makes you think I don’t love you?”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you’re wrong,” he lied.
“You sure have a funny way of showing your love.”
“Let’s go inside,” Ailbe took Declan by the arm. “We’ll have a drink and talk this through.”
Declan closed his car door as Ailbe led him toward their front door.
* * *
Glenn Cross and Garrett Burke talked as they strolled along the walkway beside the River Corrib.
“Thanks for meeting me, Mr. Burke.”
“No problem, sir.” Garrett shivered, a bit from the nighttime chilly air and a bit from nerves. He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets.
“Relax. I’m not with Garda, and you’re not in trouble. I want to ask a few questions about Fergus Rafferty.”
“So, are you a private investigator or something?”
“Something similar,” Glenn said. “I’m trying to figure out why someone killed Mr. Rafferty.”
Garrett stopped and turned to Glenn. “And you need me to help?”
“Yes.” Glenn faced Garrett. “Were you and he good friends?”
“Friends…close enough so I carried a key to his apartment. We worked as partners on the project for Dr. MacGowan’s course.”
“Did your relationship with Mr. Rafferty extend past friends, Mr. Burke?”
Garrett paused for a long while, swallowing his choked emotions and studying his shoes. He opened his mouth to speak, but words would not come. At last, he raised his head, eyes filled. “We became quite close,” he choked on the words. “Not partners or anything, but…,” Garrett paused again, fighting back the tears, “…we liked each other a lot.”
“Can I call you Garrett?”
“Yes.”
“Garrett, I’m Glenn. I have a partner. We’ve been together for a long time. I relate to what you’re going through.”
“A partner like another investigator who works with you?”
“No, a partner like a husband. A partner who is my whole life. A partner I love.”
