Grace and Disgrace Read Free Page B

cocked an eyebrow. “Northern Ireland? Ardoyne?”
    “Remarkable,” Tuohay said, his eyes widening with surprise. “Did you glean that from my accent?”
    The woman laughed. “You were born and raised in Ardoyne as a young child, but sent to America by your mother for schooling. Spent most of your formidable years in Boston. Returned to Belfast to serve your homeland in the Royal Irish Constabulary for the last decade. Drawn to where the trouble is, it seems.” She smiled softly. “No, it was not your accent that gave you away. My uncle Aiden told me about you before he died. You are Jack Tuohay.”
    “Yes,” said Tuohay, comprehension crossing his face, “of course. How very foolish me. Father Kearney was your uncle. He was a remarkable man, if I may be so bold.”
    “A father figure?” she ventured. “Do not be surprised by my remark,” she continued softly, the smile fading. “He was a father figure to many.”
    Silence spilled past her comment, and Eldredge made a small show of removing his hat. “Did you not hear us calling your name when we entered, Miss?”
    “Sorry, no,” she said, her thoughts seeming to rush to the present. “I was in the back courtyard waiting for the bell to ring. I see you took the liberty of letting yourselves in.”
    “Ah, yes.” Eldredge’s blushed as he bowed. “That was my fault.” Eldredge gathered himself. “I am Mr. John Eldredge, associate to this fine gentleman beside me. He recently returned from solving crimes in the darker sections of Belfast. We are at your service.”
    The young woman sat unmoving. “Darker sections of Belfast, you say? And where may they be, pray tell?”
    “Wherever you like them to be,” said Tuohay, “for the darkness exists in the hearts of men, not the streets they inhabit.” He took a moment to visually collect Sara Conall. She bore her age well enough, which was mid-thirties by all accounts. A delicate countenance with sharp features and a slim neck were the most admirable qualities. Dark auburn hair was pulled into a tight knot at the back of her head with a few strays dangling in slim curls about her eyes. They were tired eyes, emerald green with more moss than gemstone. She wore a fitted bodice of plain white, the front skirt hovering dangerously just above the ankles. Slender hands rested on her lap, fingers tapping lightly, no ring or other jewelry visible.
    “Miss Conall, did you perchance leave anything in the attic before your flight downstairs?” Tuohay asked.
    Sara shot Tuohay a curious look. “I was not upstairs. To be clear, I am not overly familiar with this building. My late uncle’s lawyers, Mr. McBarron and Mr. Thayer, generously suggested that I use it for this interview today, as it could afford privacy. They of course have been fully briefed in advance of this meeting.”
    Tuohay looked closely at Sara. “So, you are alone here?”
    “I let myself in with the key and have only been to this room and the back courtyard.”
    “I see. The two lawyers, Mr. McBarron and Mr. Thayer, do they formally represent your interests?”
    “With the recent death of my uncle, their representation has ceased save for certain kindnesses. They were his representatives.”
    “Certain kindnesses, you say. Such as?”
    “Such as guidance regarding this interview. They still have an interest in information pertaining to their late client.”
    “Then why are they not present?”
    “Mr. McBarron is both a very devout and very busy man, and despite his personal interest in the affair, it is no longer a professional concern. Mr. Thayer has actually stepped away from the practice, and only has a personal interest at this point as well.” She looked down at her hands. “I hear the name of the firm is to be changed to McBarron and Associates, after nearly a century as McBarronThayer. I do not believe there is any love lost among the two men.”
    She raised her head. “Nonetheless, as I recall, your letter stated that you