A young woman with a white apron and rosy cheeks was whistling as she wiped tables. She smiled at Eve, and when she spoke Eve heard that lovely lilt of Roarke's native land.
"Good afternoon to you, miss. Can I get you a menu? It's just sandwiches this time of day, I'm afraid."
"No, thanks." There was no one manning the bar, but Eve slid onto a stool before pulling out her badge. She saw the young waitress's eyes widen.
"I haven't done anything. I'm legal. I have papers."
"I'm not with Immigration." From the hasty relief on the girl's face, Eve imagined the papers were still wet, and likely fake. "Are there rooms for rent on the premises? Do any of the employees, or the owner, live on-site?''
"Yes, ma'am. There are three rooms. One in the back and two upstairs. I have one upstairs myself. It's up to code."
"Who else lives here – what's your name?"
"I'm Maureen Mulligan."
"Who else lives on-site, Maureen?"
"Well, Bob McBride did until last month when the boss fired him for laziness. Bob had a hard time lifting a pint, you see, unless it was up to his own lips." She smiled again and began to scrub at the bar industriously. "And now there's Shawn Conroy who takes the back room."
"Would he be back there now?"
"I just looked a bit ago, and he wasn't about. He should be in here now, half hour ago his shift started."
"You want to show me his room, Maureen?"
"He's not in any trouble, is he? Shawn drinks a bit, but he's a good worker and does his best."
"I want to make sure he's not in trouble. You can call your boss, Maureen, and clear showing me in the back."
Maureen bit her lip, shifted from foot to foot. "Well, then I'd have to say as how Shawn's not in for his shift, and there'd be hell to pay then, wouldn't there? I'll show you the room if you want to see it. Shawn doesn't do illegals, Lieutenant," she continued as she led the way through a door beside the laminated bar. "The boss, he's strong against illegals and sloth. There's not much more will get you the ax around here, but either of those'll do it in a wink."
She unlocked the door with an old-fashioned key from a chain at her waist.
It wasn't much, just a bunk-style bed, a cheap dresser, and a streaked mirror. But it was surprisingly neat. A quick look in the closet assured Eve that the absent Shawn hadn't packed up and left.
She walked to the dresser, idly opened a drawer. Shawn had one pair of clean underwear and two mismatched socks. "How long has he been in the U.S.?"
"Shawn, why, two or three years at least, I'm thinking. He talks about going back to Dublin, but – "
"That's where he's from?" Eve asked sharply. "He's from Dublin?"
"Yes, he says he was born and raised there and came to America to make his fortune. Not much of a fortune yet for Shawn," she continued with a sunny smile. Her gaze shifted to the empty bottle of brew on the nightstand. "That's probably why. He likes the drink a bit more than it likes him."
"Yeah." Eve glanced at the bottle as well, then her gaze sharpened on what sat beside it. Her muscled tensed as she picked up the enameled token. "What's this, Maureen?"
"I don't know." Maureen angled her head and studied the green shamrock on the white background. And on the back, the fish. "A lucky piece, I suppose."
"Have you seen it before?''
"No. Looks new, doesn't it? It's so shiny. Shawn must have just picked it up. Always looking for luck, Shawn is."
"Yeah." Eve closed her fist around the token. She was very much afraid luck had run out.
CHAPTER FOUR
"I need you to think, Maureen. I need you to be calm and clear."
Huddled in a neatly patched chair in her own little room above the Green Shamrock, Maureen wet her lips. "I'm not going to go to jail or be deported?"
"You're not in any kind of trouble. I promise you." Eve edged forward in her chair. "Help me out here, Maureen, help Shawn out, and I'll pull some strings and get you real papers. You won't have to worry about Immigration ever again."
"I don't want anything to happen to Shawn, truly I don't. He was never anything but nice to me." Her eyes darted over to where Peabody stood by the door. "I'm a little nervous, you see. Cops make me a little nervous."
"Peabody's a pussycat. Aren't you, Peabody?"
"Tame as a tabby, Lieutenant."
"Help us out here now, and think back. When did you last see Shawn?"
"I'm thinking it must have been last evening when I went off my shift. You see, as a rule, Shawn comes on midday like. I'm on from eleven – that's when we open – until eight. I have two thirty-minute breaks. Shawn he works through till half ten most nights. Then he comes back on at one and works the after-hours – "
She shut up like a clam in seawater.
"Maureen," Eve began with straining patience. "I'm not worried about the after-hours business. It's no concern of mine if the bar stays open past its licensing limit."
"Well, we do a bit of after-hours business now and again." She began to wring her hands. "I'll be fired for sure if the boss finds I've told a cop such a thing."
"Not if he doesn't get any heat from it. Now you saw Shawn last night, before you went off shift at eight."
"I did, yes. When I finished up, he was behind the bar and he said something like, 'Maureen, me darling, don't you be letting that young buck steal any of my kisses.' "
At Eve's lifted brow, Maureen flushed. "Oh, he didn't mean anything by it, Lieutenant. He was just joking like. Shawn, he's was forty years old or more, and there isn't anything like that between us. I have a sort of young man. I mean…" She fumbled again, looked nervously at the silent Peabody. "He is a man, a young man, and I'm seeing him lately. We're getting to know each other, and Shawn, he knew I had a date last night, so he was just teasing me."
"All right, so you saw Shawn when you left at eight. Then – "
"Oh wait!" Maureen threw up her hands. "I saw him again. I'd forgotten. Well, not 'saw' so much. I heard him when I got in from seeing Mike – my young man – that is, the young man I'm seeing lately. I heard Shawn talking when I came in, you see."
She beamed, pleased as a pup who'd done its master's bidding.
"Who was he talking to?"
"I don't know. You see, I have to pass his room to get to the steps to come up to mine. It would have been right about midnight, and Shawn would have been on his break before the after-hours shift. The building's old, you see, so the walls and doors aren't really thick or soundproofed well. So I heard him and another man talking in Shawn's room."
"Did you hear what they said?''
"Not really. I was just passing, but I remember being glad that Shawn sounded happy. He was laughing and he said something about something being a fine idea and he'd be there for certain."
"Are you sure he was talking to a man?"
Maureen furrowed her brow. "It was more an impression. I didn't hear the words from the other, just a rumble of voice. But deep, like a man's. I didn't hear more than that because I came up here to get ready for bed. But I know it was Shawn talking. It was his laugh. He has a big laugh, does Shawn."
"Okay, who covers the tables after your shift?"
"Oh, that's Sinead. She comes on at six and we work the two hours together, then she handles the tables alone until closing. Sinead Duggin, and she lives only a couple blocks over on Eighty-third, I think. And the barkeep who works the busy time with Shawn is a droid. The boss, he only uses the droid for the busy times. They're costly to maintain."
"All right, Maureen, have you noticed anyone new coming into the bar over the last week or two, striking up a conversation with Shawn?"
"We get new people in from time to time, and some come back. Some of them talk and some don't. Most will talk a bit to Shawn because he makes a friendly drink, you see. But I don't recall anybody in particular."