A June of Ordinary Murders by Conor Brady Read Free Book Online

Gladstone, had been defeated two years previously, leading to the downfall of the Liberal Government. But Parnell had not abandoned the struggle, and the authorities knew that when the circumstances were opportune there would be a renewed push to challenge the writ of the Westminster Parliament.
    A case like this would offer a newsworthy if ghastly variation on the nightly toll being reported from the countryside. The Dublin police had largely escaped the criticisms being levelled against the RIC. But a case of extreme violence like this would be ideal fodder for newspapers seeking to outdo each other in their sense of outrage.
    Swallow strode out of the copse to the group of reporters. Seeing him approach, they turned their focus from Doolan. They were already shouting questions before he reached them.
    â€˜Who’s the dead man, Joe?’
    â€˜How old is the child?’
    â€˜We’ve been told it’s a brutal case. Is it true?’
    â€˜Have you any clues at this stage?’
    â€˜Can we come up to have a look?’
    Swallow placed himself beside Doolan and raised his hands to still the cacophony.
    â€˜I can’t answer everyone at the same time … if you’d please be quiet, I’ll tell you what I can. I can’t say much to you that you can attribute officially to the police. If you want the official position on anything, you know where the Commissioner’s office is in the Lower Castle Yard.’
    There was an impatient murmur and Swallow heard a swear word. He knew that no journalist ever got any useful information about anything from the Commissioner’s office. His invocation of higher authority was a formula to cover his own back.
    â€˜First, there’s no question of anybody being let up there. There’s a dead man and a young boy in the copse. We don’t know who they are and we don’t know what happened to them. I can tell you the man is probably in his twenties, maybe a bit more. The boy could be 8 or 9 years old.’
    â€˜Is it true they’re completely unrecognisable?’ The question came from Andrew Dunlop, The Irish Times ’s man. Swallow knew Dunlop for a solid, if persistent, news reporter.
    â€˜The bodies aren’t a pleasant sight, but I’m confident we’ll establish who they are,’ Swallow said.
    â€˜Who found them and when?’
    It was the Evening Telegraph ’s reporter, Simon Sweeney.
    Always fashionably dressed and well groomed, Sweeney was more polished and better spoken than most of his press colleagues. Swallow had heard that he was the product of an expensive private education and had graduated from Trinity College. Had he not known the young reporter’s avocation he might have taken him for a solicitor or a bank official.
    Swallow detailed the sequence of communication from when the park-keeper’s dog had led his master to the copse in the early hours. The journalist jotted the details in his notebook.
    â€˜Have you established the cause of death, Sergeant?’ The Irish Times ’s man asked.
    â€˜That’s a matter for Dr Lafeyre, the medical examiner, to determine. At this time we don’t know.’
    â€˜You don’t seem to know very much at all, do you?’ The tone was sarcastic and hostile and it was more of a comment than a question. It came from Irving, the correspondent for the London Daily Sketch. Swallow and he had clashed many times in the past.
    â€˜That’s sometimes how crime investigations work, Mr Irving,’ Swallow replied evenly. ‘We’re in the very early stages of this one. As I said, I’m confident we’ll know a lot more as we go on.’
    Irving sneered. ‘You were just as confident about the Elizabeth Logan murder. Were you not, Mr Swallow?’
    Swallow felt himself flush. Elizabeth Logan was a prostitute whose body had been found on Sandymount Strand a year previously. The early identification of a suspect had proven