Lake of Sorrows

Ward remembered what he’d been going through himself at that time—it hadn’t been long after Eithne’s death—the night sweats, the fearful dreams of drowning, of watching her head slide beneath the water and being frozen with horror, unable to act. He’d probably been easier on the boy than he should have been. But there had been no compelling evidence. And inflicting needless suffering had never been one of the attractions of his job.

It was both curious and disturbing that the animal mutilations and the body from Loughnabrone seemed to involve similar ritualistic spilling of blood. But was that a connection or just a coincidence? What age was Charlie Brazil—about twenty-two, twenty-three? That meant he hadn’t even been born when Danny Brazil left home.

The key to the Loughnabrone case was how long the body had been in the bog. At this point Ward only had Teresa Brazil’s word for the date when Danny had disappeared from Loughnabrone. Maybe he’d never gone away. Or maybe he’d left for a while and come back, tried to get in contact with someone he shouldn’t have. Ward looked down at the list of known associates he’d been working on, people they might have to interview in the next few days: the Brazil family, of course; Danny’s coworkers at the workshop; his former mates on the hurling team, those erstwhile local heroes turned middle-aged butchers and electricians and publicans. He wondered whether Danny Brazil had been headed to Australia of his own free will, or whether he’d been banished there—and if so, by whom.

When he got back to the office, Liam Ward watched Maureen on the phone with her husband, cradling the receiver against her left ear, and wondered whether he’d ever again have the opportunity to hear a woman’s voice soften like that over the telephone. He thought about picking up his own phone and ringing Dr. Friel. Perhaps she was still in the area, and wouldn’t mind having dinner with him. That was all it would be: a meal and some conversation.

He flipped through the numbers in his diary, and was just about to dial her mobile when Dr. Friel herself appeared in front of his desk. She was wound up about something, but from all appearances, it looked like something good.

“Hello, Liam. I hope you don’t mind me just popping over like this, but we’ve got a positive ID on the second body from the bog. It is Danny Brazil, no question about it. I made the preliminary comparison, and the odontologist just confirmed it; he says there are too many matches in the dental work for it to be anyone else. I have both sets of X rays here if you want to have a look.”

Maureen overheard, and put down the phone to join them at the window. In the ghostly image against the pane, the dense teeth glowed white, the fillings and metal crowns a translucent gray.

“Can you see the missing bicuspid here on the left? And the gold crown is pretty unmistakable in both. A person’s teeth have very distinctive features, very individual facets and root systems.” Ward looked, and saw some of the similarities, and was glad there were experts whose obsession served the greater good.

“These are a bonus,” Dr. Friel said, pulling out a pair of X rays and holding them up to the light. “Turns out Danny Brazil was treated for a blow to the face during a hurling match—they tell me he played midfield for Offaly. These X rays were taken at the time of the injury and were in his file at the dental surgery.”

Ward looked more closely at the shadowy radiographs of Danny Brazil’s skull. On one he could see the leather cord still hanging loose around the throat. The soft tissue—the eyes, ears, and the tongue—were gone, the sockets round and staring. It was probably best not to imagine all that was inside us, Ward decided. Not to dwell on it at least. And yet she thought about it all the time, Catherine Friel did. It was her life, the same way his life was thinking about what went on inside people, perhaps in a somewhat less literal, less visceral way. But there were those who preferred not to think about either. He was acutely aware of her close beside him, of the hand that held the X ray up to the window. No wedding band.

“It was great of you to bring these by,” he said.

“I have to admit I had an ulterior motive.”

Maureen cleared her throat and excused herself with a look that said Ward had better be listening carefully. Was his attraction to Catherine Friel that obvious? They both watched Maureen go, then Dr. Friel turned back to him. “I was wondering whether you might join me for dinner. I’ve another case over in Athlone tomorrow, so I’m here for another day at least. I’d love to talk over this case a bit more—if you’re free.”

It was as if she knew what he’d been thinking since the first day they’d met out on the bog. Of course, he’d have to go and speak to Danny Brazil’s family before he did anything else. “I really should—”

“Perhaps another time.”