The Hunter

“Look at that,” Nealon says, pleased with himself. “I’m getting the hang of this place. I called around to you there a couple of days ago, looking for a chat, but you were out.”

“Work, probably.”

“Must’ve been.” Nealon selects a cigarette and balances it between finger and thumb, apparently considering it. “Your fella, Hooper,” he says, “he was there when Theresa told me the original story. He said she was reliable.” He cocks an eyebrow: it’s a question.

“She is, yeah,” Lena says. “Or she always has been. But she’s not at her best, these last few weeks. Her daddy coming home, that threw her for a loop. She was always mad about him.”

“Girls and their daddies,” Nealon says indulgently. “It’s great. One of mine’s still little enough that she thinks the sun shines out of my arse. I’m making the most of it while it lasts: the other one’s thirteen, God help me, so everything out of my mouth is so stupid she could just die. Does Theresa not hold it against her da that he done a legger?”

Lena gives that a bit of thought. “Not that I ever saw. She’s been too over the moon about having him back. And scared he’ll take off again.”

Nealon nods along. “Don’t blame her. Will he?”

Lena glances behind her to make sure Trey hasn’t come out, and lowers her voice. “I’d say so, yeah.”

“The poor young one,” Nealon says. “That wasn’t easy for her, coming clean with me. Fair play to you, convincing her. I appreciate that.” He smiles at her. “I’ll be honest with you, I’m pleasantly surprised. Places like your townland, let’s face it, mostly they wouldn’t go out of their way for the likes of me.”

“My fiancé’s a cop,” Lena points out. “Or was. I’d see things a bit differently from most people round my way.”

“That’d do it, all right,” Nealon acknowledges. “How’d you convince her?”

This is the loose joint in their story, and Lena knows better than to try and pretend it’s not there. She takes her time considering. After the performance Trey put on in there, there’s no way in hell Lena is going to let her down.

“D’you know,” she says, “I didn’t have to do as much convincing as I would’ve expected. She was halfway there already; she just needed the bitta encouragement. You’ve got the whole townland up to ninety—I wouldn’t say you need me to tell you that, sure.” She throws Nealon a look that’s half wry, half impressed. He dips his head mock-modestly.

“Trey should’ve seen that coming,” Lena says, “but she didn’t. She had herself all worked up, thinking you’d get the wrong men and it’d be all her fault. At first she wanted to leave out the bit about her daddy, but I told her there wasn’t much point: you’d know there had to be a reason why she made up the first story, and you’d keep on at her till she came out with it. She got that. Mostly, but, I think she just couldn’t handle telling any more lies. Like I said, she’s not much of a liar. It stresses her out.”

“There’s people like that,” Nealon agrees. He twirls his cigarette, still unlit, between two fingers. Lena, as she’s intended to, gets the message: they were never out here for air, fresh or otherwise. “What d’you think of her da?”

Lena shrugs and blows out a puff of air. “Johnny’s Johnny. He’s a bit of an eejit, but I wouldn’t’ve said there was much harm in him. You never know, but.”

“True enough,” Nealon says. He watches the scooter kids. One of them has fallen and is howling; a mammy checks for blood, gives the child a hug, and sends it back to its game. “Tell us something. The evening before Rushborough died, Johnny was round your place for a good half-hour. What was going on there?”

Lena takes in a breath and then stops. “Ah, now,” Nealon says wryly, wagging a finger at her. “Didn’t I just tell you I’ve got daughters? I know when someone’s deciding whether or not to tell me the truth.”

Lena lets out a shamefaced laugh. Nealon laughs with her. “I’ve known Johnny all my life,” she explains. “And I’m fond of Trey.”

“Jaysus, woman, I’m not going to drag the man away in chains if you say the wrong thing. It’s not like on the telly. I’m just trying to find out what went on here. Unless Johnny told you he was off to bash Rushborough’s head in, you’re not going to land him in jail. Did he?”

Lena laughs again. “Course not.”

“Well then. You’ve nothing to worry about. So would you ever give us the scoop, before you have my head melted?”

Lena sighs. “Johnny was looking to borrow money,” she says. “He said he owed it.”

“Did he say to who?”

Lena leaves half a second before she shakes her head. Nealon cocks his to one side. “But…?”

“But he said something like ‘Your man’s followed me this far, he’s not going to give up now.’ So I reckoned…”

“You reckoned Rushborough.”

“I did, yeah.”

“And you might’ve been right,” Nealon says. “Did you give Johnny anything?”

“I did not,” Lena says with spirit. “I’d never see it again. That fecker still owes me a fiver from when we were seventeen and I subbed him into the disco.”

“How’d he take it? Did he get upset? Narky? Threaten you?”