Free Murphy's Law by Rhys Bowen Page A

me out of this place." I was surprised how easily the words came out.
    The policeman leaned over the desk and glanced at the master list. "You came on the Majestic. I see you're from the same part of Ireland as the man who died. Did you know him?"
    "I'd never set eyes on him before I got on that ship." At least I didn't have to lie.
    "But you did talk to him on the ship?"
    "I talked to a lot of people. We were cooped up together there for seven days. Someone pointed him out
    to me and told me his name. That's how I knew who he was. He was a loud kind of individual. You couldn't help but notice him."
    "When you say loud, do you mean aggressive? Did he pick fights? Did you notice him having an argument with anyone in particular?"
    I could hardly say, yes, with me.
    "No, I just meant that he laughed loudly when the men played cards. He had a loud voice."
    The men exchanged a glance, then the policeman nodded. "Thank you, Mrs. O'Connor. That will be all."
    Eight
    It was over. As easy as that. I went back to my seat. The children were still playing in the corner. I sat down and smiled at my neighbor. Suddenly I felt very hungry. Porridge with real cream, the way I used to make it at home, would have gone down a treat. But nobody brought around refreshments. The questioning must have taken an hour or more. Then the young man in the tweed jacket stepped out in front of us again.
    "Sorry to have to detain you like this, when I know you're all itching to get ashore." He had an Irish name but the accent was very different from the brogue I was used to. "Some of you are now free to go. Interpreters, would you please tell those people who came on the Graf Bismark that they may now proceed to the usual immigration clearance. The following passengers from the Majestic are also free to leave." He read out a list of names. Mine was not among them. "Some of you have been asked to remain for further questioning. You may have information which can be of help to us. I don't anticipate you should be kept much longer--most of you."
    The addition of those innocent words made alarm shoot through me. The more I was questioned, and maybe the children, too, the easier a slip would be. I had been so strong, so alert all this time. Now I just wanted it to be over and done with. We sat on the benches and waited. I looked around, trying to spot Michael, but I couldn't see him. I couldn't remember hearing his name called, but then I'd been listening so intently to hear my own name that I might have missed it. But he couldn't have gone, could he? Not when I had his five pounds in my pocket. I jumped when someone prodded me in
    the back. "They're calling for you, Mrs. O'Connor," A policeman was beckoning me into a side room.
    "Can you watch the children for me?" I asked one of the Irish women who was sitting beside me. The last thing I wanted was the children questioned.
    "Don't worry, my dear, they'll be safe with me." She patted me on the hand, as if she was sorry for me.
    I was led through to a little room with a desk and chair in it. The young New York detective was sitting at the desk, scribbling notes on a pad. He looked up when I came in.
    "Mrs. O'Connor? Mrs. Kathleen O'Connor?"
    There was something in the way he was looking at me --I could sense the heightened interest. He knows, I thought. He's been in touch with the English police and he recognizes me.
    "That's right, sir." I sat on the chair indicated.
    "From Stabane, county Derry. Sailed here on the Majestic to join husband, Seamus O'Connor, of Twenty-eight Cherry Street, New York City?"
    "That's right, sir." I was determined to keep my answers as short as possible. If he was Irish-born, or even if he mixed in Irish circles, he'd spot instantly that my accent was not from county Derry.
    "You say in your statement to my officer that you didn't know Mr. O'Malley, that you had never met him, even though you both came from the same small town of Plumbridge. Is that correct?"
    "I have no idea where Mr.