“It doesn’t get any better if I zoom in; don’t believe everything you see on TV,” I reply with a chuckle. “Ah, fuck, that just made it worse.”
The second garda shakes his head in disappointment. “Well, it was worth a try,” he says. “We’d need a copy of that footage to analyse further.”
“Of course.” I lean back in my chair, all innocent smiles and coy gestures.
I can’t get them out of my office quickly enough. I transfer the footage onto a USB and hand it over to the gardaí. “Here you go.”
“Where were you when this footage was taken?” one of the men asks, eyeing me suspiciously.
“I was here, working away as always.”
“All night?”
“No.” I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms. This is a shit-storm waiting to happen, and all roads lead to Katie. They’re going to find her. They’re going to question her, and then I’ll get a big, meaty finger pointed in my direction. “I was at home from about 2 AM.”
“Can anyone vouch for that?” the second garda asks, raising an eyebrow.
“My girlfriend.” The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. Katie can be my alibi just as I can be hers, and we’re safe. Unless her sister opens her big mouth, then it’s two against one. Sorry, Ciara, but if someone’s going down for this, it sure as hell won’t be me, and I’ll be damned if I let Katie take the fall for your stupid decisions.
“This girlfriend was with you the entire night?”
“That’s what I said. Excuse me for not sharing the sordid details of our evening,” I reply, trying to maintain a nonchalant tone. “But if you must know, I took her to bed as soon as I got in the front door, and she didn’t leave it until late the next morning.”
“We may need to speak with her at a later date to confirm your alibi,” the detective responds, scribbling notes in his notepad.
“Alibi, for what exactly?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t be held responsible for what every person who enters or leaves my club does outside of business hours.”
The detective pauses for a moment, considering my words. “We understand your position,” he says, closing his notepad. “However, we owe it to these men’s families to find out what happened to them.”
“And I hope you do.” I lean forward and look into his mud-brown eyes. “But don’t be surprised if it’s another group of junkies going on a bender and forgetting to go home.”
He gives me a nod, acknowledging my scepticism. “We’ll keep all possibilities in mind.”
“If there is nothing else you need from me, I have some paperwork to attend to. Please keep me updated on any developments.” I stand up, signalling the end of our conversation.
I wait for them to leave, watching them exit the building on the cameras, before pulling out my phone and calling Katie.
“Hey, bug!” I say with a smile as Katie answers the phone.
“Missing, Aiden, they’re missing!” She’s fretting.
“I know, bug, I know. The gardaí were just here.”
“What!”
“It’s fine; I gave them the footage they needed, and they went on their merry way. What are you wearing?”
“Aiden!” She screeches. “This isn’t funny.”
“It’s a little bit funny.”
“They could be dead.”
“Good,” Shrugging off my jacket and leaning against the wall, I look out at the lights that have Dublin City Centre aglow. “Good riddance to bad rubbish. Maybe they went after another girl when they couldn’t get their grubby hands on you. Maybe they chose the wrong girl and got their heads smashed in. I don’t care, do you?”
There is a pregnant pause before she sighs, “No.” I can hear her moving about the room, likely trying to compose herself. “When I saw them on the news, I panicked.”
“Why? You did nothing wrong.”
