Page 131 of 56 Days
Gardaí investigating after body of man (29)
discovered in Dublin 6
Gardaí in Dublin are investigating the death of a 29-year-old man whose body was found at an apartment block in Harold’s Cross, Dublin 6, early this morning. The grim discovery was made following reports by neighbors of an odor. Gardaí are now probing the circumstances surrounding the man’s death, although sources say foul play is not suspected. The body has been removed to St. James’s Hospital, where a postmortem will be carried out. Anyone with information can contact the Garda Confidential Line at 1-800-666-111.
Thankfully today was Reopening Plan Day, and all available column inches and airtime were saturated with the government’sfive-phaseplan to slowly reopen the country beginning on May eighteenth, as well as the heady news that as of Tuesday, everyone could venture as far asfivekilometers from their home after five weeks of being confined to just two.
No one cared about a nameless body being found in an apartment, especially when it wasn’t even because of a crime.
“Something’s not right about this,” Lee says, absently wiping drops of condensation off the side of her McDonald’s Coke with a forefinger.
“Unless I missed the news about the pathologist finding aseven-inchblade in the dude’s back,” Karl says, “it’s an accidental death. The end.”
“Let’s talk it through.”
“What have webeendoing?”
“Okay. So.” Lee sits up. She takes a few sips of the Coke, even though she knows the sheer amount of ice in there will have diluted any caffeine benefit. “Okay. So. Okay.”
“Off to a great start there,” Karl mutters.
“How do you still have energy for sarcasm? You didn’t even sleep last night.”
“It’s because I am a—how do you say?—young person.”
“There’s seven years between us, Karl.”
“You tick a different box on the form, that’s what matters.”
“Who turned off the water?”
“Hedid,” Karl says. “Tom Searson said that was a possibility. St Ledger had enough left in him to reach up and slap the lever down, but not enough to not sink to the floor and drown in whatever water had already collected there.”
“What about the text messages? His says he doesn’t want it to end this way and offers to meet somewhere public if she prefers. That sounds like there was some bigblow-up, that she might feel unsafe meeting him behind closed doors.”
“But it could also refer to lockdown,” Karl says. “They’re two households, they’re notsupposedto be meeting behind closed doors. And her response doesn’t suggest anything is wrong. Lee, can I ask you a question? Do younothave enough work to do? Are you bored? Is that it?”
“Why isn’t she answering that number now?”
“She changed it.”
“Why?”
“Because peopledo. Sometimes, people change their phone numbers.”
“How long have you had yours? I think I’ve mine going on twenty years.”
“Lee, come on. We both know there’s always something that refuses to fit the jigsaw. That doesn’t mean we can’t still see what the picture is. And you have to admit, the only reason you’re still even looking at this jigsaw at all is because of who he is. Take away Mill River, take away Laura Mannix—what have you got? A guy who drugged himself and fell in the shower. The end.”
“You do know that you saying ‘the end’ doesn’t constitute a legal judgment?”
“It should,” Karl says. “It’s much more efficient.”
“We’ll have to look for this Ciara girl.”
“How do you suggest we do that? Unless something comes back on that phone registration—and I’m not holding my breath there—all we have to go on is a first name.”
“And a Cork accent. And Laura’s physical description.”
