They were the first words she'd said that I really believed.
Her eyes stayed on the coffee machine. 'It's nothing unusual for him to be out of reach for weeks sometimes, while he's up in the mountains or wherever. It hasn't been a week yet. Work, it's just his way of dealing with things.' She fiddled about in a tin for another capsule. 'I think I'll join you.'
'So he's in the mountains? Still in Iraq?'
She shoved another capsule into the machine. 'I think he left some time yesterday. Sorry, my head's all over the place. Sugar?'
I shook my head. She placed stuff on a tray and got ready to move. 'Let's go in the front room.'
I followed her through double doors that had been punched through the dividing wall. She offered me a blue velvet two-seater on one side of the low coffee-table and sat down opposite.
The fireplace to my left was tiled. The black grate was far too shiny ever to have been used. The mantelpiece was covered with all the usual pictures of two people's lives together, but instead of picnics on the beach or family gatherings, they featured sailing boats or horses. There were also several of the same boy, from about ten to his teens.
'That Finbar? He's twenty now, isn't he?' There hadn't been much in the file about the boy either, only his name and DOB.
She stared at the row of grinning faces. 'Twenty-one this August.'
'He's the spitting image of you.' I kept my eyes on the frames. 'He still living here, or has he legged it?'
She turned back to her coffee. 'He's gone now.'
'This is the time you get to see more of Dom, eh?'
She gave another weak smile, but concentrated on her cup. The silence quickly became uncomfortable.
'He at uni?'
'He works. He's in the financial sector.' There was no gush of pride from a beaming mother.
'Here in Dublin?'
She put down her cup and gave a couple of short sharp nods instead of an answer. 'Excuse me – my cigarettes.' She waved in the general direction of the kitchen. 'It's a filthy habit, do you mind?'
I stood up with her, all smiles. 'Course not. I won't send you to smoke on the street.'
I sat down again and sipped the brew. She returned in a cloud of smoke. Her hand shook slightly as she sucked at her cigarette. She hadn't brought the packet and the lighter with her. She wanted me out.
I raised my cup. 'Thanks for the coffee, Siobhan. Sorry again to barge in on you. Can I leave my mobile number in case you need to get in touch?'
She went over to a small table covered with style magazines. She pulled open a drawer stuffed with pens, pencils, electricity bills, all the normal shit. Nestling among it all was a grey mobile phone.
I stood up. 'Can I use your loo before I head off?'
She did her general wave once more. 'Through the kitchen, down the stairs. First on the right.'
I left as she pulled out a pen and something to write on.
35
Once in the toilet the first thing I checked was the window. It was a wooden sash, as I'd have expected in one of these houses, but this one was new. The frosted glass was double-glazed, with a decorative brass latch in the centre of the frame. A hole each side indicated an internal deadlock operated by a star key. It didn't worry me. Keys tend to be left in toilets so no one gets embarrassed after a big hot curry. I dug about in the unit under the sink cabinet and found what I was looking for, right next to the Toilet Duck.
I pressed the flush, and unwound both deadlocks while it was noisy. I left the latch closed, so everything looked normal.
I replaced the key in the cabinet, and washed my hands with plenty of scented liquid soap. I wanted her to know I'd gone where I'd said I would.
As I came out again, a motion detector in the hallway gave me a flicker of blue LED. So did another at the top of the stairs.
The door opposite opened easily. It was a teenager's room. There were posters on the wall but no bedding, just a folded duvet on the mattress.
I took a step inside. Even if Finbar had moved out, there might be something that would give me a clue as to where he was now. I didn't care what the Yes Man had