Free Can Anybody Help Me? by Sinéad Crowley Page A

answeredquestions first and worried about the ramifications afterwards. But Claire kept her tone neutral.
    â€˜You can, of course, call your solicitor if you want, Mr Berry. But really at this stage we just need you to tell us exactly what happened. We’re just taking an initial statement.’
    â€˜Yeah, okay. Cool.’
    He paused again and looked down at his fingernails. They were too long and too clean, Claire decided. A sure sign of a fella who didn’t break his back at the day job. Okay, working in an estate agency was hardly equivalent to mining coal, but somehow she reckoned an ink stain or something would have made him seem a little more effective. The silence lengthened and she decided to start with a few gentle questions.
    â€˜You could begin by telling me your full name? And occupation?’
    He looked up at her gratefully as if he hadn’t expected things to be that simple.
    â€˜Yeah, sure! It’s, ehm, Cormac Berry? And I work for O’Mahony Thorpe, they’re, like, based in Rathmines?’
    O’Mahony Thorpe. Claire wrote the name on a blank notebook page. It was a familiar one, and not just because she’d seen it written outside the Merview complex. It had taken herself and Matt almost two years to buy a house – at the top of the market, naturally – and in that time she’d dealt with every legitimate estate agency in the city, as well as some shysters armed with nothing more than a clipboard and a mallet.
    O’Mahony Thorpe had been one of the biggest firms in Dublin at the time, dealing mostly in detached homes in the rock star/stockbroker belt on Dublin’s south coast. She also had a vague recollection of seeing O’Mahony himself – or maybe itwas Thorpe? – bursting out of a pinstripe suit on one of those property programmes that used to jam the airwaves. Advising people on second homes in the sun, and how to release equity on your city pad to add an extra swimming pool.
    But that had been then. A few short years and a lifetime ago. It seemed like no one could avoid a bit of slumming these days. Even the ones in the pinstripe suits.
    Berry was still talking.
    â€˜So, we’re, like, the main letting agency for Merview. And we got a call from the owner to say the rent on 123 hadn’t been paid this month?’
    â€˜Okay.’
    Claire held up her hand.
    â€˜Let’s just go back a bit, please. Tell me exactly who owns the apartment and what your company does?’
    She reddened slightly and felt rather than saw a slight grin on Flynn’s impassive face. That bloody inflection was contagious.
    â€˜What you do.’ She growled, lowering the final word as much as possible.
    â€˜Yeah, sure.’ The young man continued in a stronger voice, clearly happier to be on home territory. ‘We, like, place ads, find tenants, check references, stuff like that?’
    â€˜Right.’
    Claire made another note.
    â€˜So, you deal with the tenants on behalf of the landlords? And you found the tenant for this property?’
    â€˜Yeah. About, like, three months ago?’
    â€˜Okay.’
    Finally it seemed they were getting somewhere.
    â€˜The guy who owns this place, he, like, used to live there? But he got married and bought a house with his wife. He wanted to sell the apartment but he couldn’t get, like, anything decent for it. So he decided to rent it. He’s moved to, like, Cork so he needed an agent. So he came to us.’
    â€˜And that’s usually how these things go?’
    â€˜Yeah. We put the ads online and stuff.’
    â€˜And what happened then?’
    â€˜Well. This guy was, like, kinda desperate …’ Berry’s voice trailed off. He swallowed, and stared at his hands, which were by now resting on the table. But his choice of words had been unusual.
    â€˜Desperate?’
    â€˜Well, yeah.’ Berry refocused on her. ‘I was talking to him a few