Judith waited while Otto regaled her with tales from his past years at the airport. He was explaining at length some aspect of luggage conveyors when a tall young man in blue overalls pushed open the door and came in. Motor oil was streaked down his cheek and his sandy-coloured hair was flopping in his eyes and over his forehead. His face was unmemorable, except that Judith remembered it, though she didn’t know from where.
‘This is Danny,’ said Otto.
‘Hello. Have we met before somewhere?’ she asked, trying to place him.
‘Don’t think so.’ He looked at Otto. ‘You wanted to see me?’
‘That’s right, Danny. The maroon Megane. It was rented out last week by a customer who brought it back two nights ago. I was off, and you would have dealt with him. A man named Milraud – he’s French.’
‘Don’t remember him. He might have used the express service.’
‘Not this guy,’ said Otto, and pushed the folder across the counter at the mechanic. ‘See, you initialled it right there.’
‘Oh yeah,’ he said slowly.
‘He would have had an accent,’ prompted Judith, hoping she was right. ‘A funny kind of hair cut – it stands up straight in front. European-looking – he carried a leather sort of little handbag.’
The mechanic gave a snort. ‘I don’t remember anybody like that. But I don’t really look at them. I just take the keys, punch in the mileage, hand them a receipt.’
‘You’ve got CCTV in here,’ said Judith, looking up at the camera in the corner of the office. ‘Perhaps we could look at the tape for that night.’
There was a short silence. Otto looked embarrassed. ‘’Fraid it’s not working. Went off about a week ago and we’re still waiting to get it fixed.’
Judith sighed in disappointment, still trying to think where she had seen the mechanic before.
Danny looked at Otto. ‘Is that all?’ he asked.
Otto turned to Judith, who shook her head. ‘Thanks Danny,’ said Otto, and the mechanic left. Otto looked at Judith and shrugged. ‘Ryan’s a nice enough fellow, though he’s not exactly a threat to Einstein.’
But Judith wasn’t listening very carefully, for a picture was beginning to take shape in her mind. It was of this same man who’d just been in the office, standing outside a door. Her door, at her flat in Belfast. What had he been doing there? she wondered. Delivering a package? It didn’t seem likely. Then Otto’s words echoed and she asked sharply, ‘Did you say “Ryan”?’
‘That’s right. Danny Ryan.’
Now she knew where she’d met him – outside her door all right, one evening when Mrs Ryan had stayed late, and her son had come round to give her a lift home. What a coincidence, she thought. She shifted her attention back to Otto. ‘While I’m here, there’s something else I wanted to ask you about. One of my colleagues collected a car here a few weeks ago, then had a bad blowout on the A1.’
‘I heard about it. Your Mr Purvis paid me a visit.’
‘Did my colleague collect the keys to the car from you?’
He shook his head. ‘No, I wasn’t here.’ He seemed embarrassed again, as if afraid Judith was beginning to think he was always taking time off.
‘So who took care of her?’
‘It was Danny Ryan. He’s normally the one who stands in for me. He’s the senior of the boys in the garage. I know it was him, because Mr Purvis talked to him. Purvis said the car had been serviced only the week before by the mechanics at your place and he couldn’t understand what had happened. Danny told him he hadn’t touched it here and it seemed in perfect condition when your colleague took it away. Believe me, Danny would know – he’s an excellent mechanic; I’m scared I’ll lose him to another garage one of these days.’
Judith found Liz poring over reports.
‘Well, I’ve found Milraud’s rental car. What I don’t know is whether he returned it, or someone else did.’
Liz grimaced. ‘Since he didn’t fly from the airport, chances are it was someone else.’
‘It’s the weirdest thing. Otto Perkins, the manager at the car hire place up there, wasn’t working when the car was returned. One of the staff in the garage handled it. His name’s Danny Ryan.’
‘So?’ asked Liz absently, her mind on something else.
‘He’s Mrs Ryan’s son.’
Liz looked at her with surprise. ‘Our Mrs Ryan?’ When Judith nodded, she asked, ‘Are you sure?’
‘Absolutely. I thought he looked familiar, then I remembered where I’d seen him before. He picked his mother up from the flat one evening, not long after she started working for me. Isn’t that a coincidence?’
‘I’ll say,’ said Liz, looking down grimly at the reports on her desk. A4 had been unable to locate Dermot O’Reilly; suddenly it seemed as if the world and his dog had gone missing. She was still only half paying attention when Judith said, ‘By the way, you’ve met Danny Ryan too. It was he who gave you the keys of that car you picked up at the airport the day you arrived.’
Judith had all of Liz’s attention now. ‘The car that had the blowout?’
‘That’s right,’ said Judith. They looked at each other and Judith suddenly sat down.
‘Did you speak to this Danny Ryan?’
‘Not really. I saw him. Otto called him into the office to confirm that he’d been on duty when Milraud’s car came back. He wasn’t much help; he said it had been too busy for him to remember any individual customer. Now that I think about it though, that seems pretty unlikely. There aren’t that many evening flights from the airport and there are several other car hire firms there to share the custom. The CCTV camera in the office is broken too, so there’s no photographic record of who came and went.’
‘I don’t like this,’ said Liz slowly. ‘What does Danny Ryan look like?’
‘Young, light hair, quite tall, lanky – his mother would probably say he needed feeding up. What are you thinking, Liz?’
‘I’m thinking he fits the description Jimmy Fergus gave me of the gunman’s accomplice.’ Liz was biting at the side of one of her fingers. Judith knew that habit of Liz’s. It meant that her mind was racing; she was slotting information and events into position like a computer. Though she knew Liz was not prone to jumping to conclusions, Judith nonetheless felt she should inject a note of caution.
‘I tell you what, Liz. Why don’t I give Otto Perkins a ring and ask him if Danny Ryan was working on the day Jimmy Fergus got shot?’
And three minutes later Judith Spratt put the phone down and looked wide-eyed at Liz. ‘Otto looked up his duty roster. Apparently Danny Ryan had the day off when Fergus was shot.’
‘I don’t like this at all,’ said Liz.
‘That’s the good news.’ Judith paused. ‘Danny Ryan went home ill just after I left their office this morning. Otto was mystified. He said Ryan’s never been off ill before, and he looked perfectly well earlier in the day.’
‘We’d better find him fast.’
‘We know he lives with his mother. I’ve got her address in my book. Do you really think he’s involved in all this?’
‘I don’t know. But there are too many coincidences to be just chance. Danny Ryan’s been involved with Milraud’s car; my car; he fits Jimmy’s description; he was off work at the right time and the moment you ask him a question, he goes off sick.’
‘So do we have him pulled in?’