Finally, Danny sat down, the three of them close together around a table designed for two, one of those bistro-style tables more usually seen on a terrace or balcony, with two matching chairs and a small, wobbly looking stool on which Mike was perched uncomfortably. He looked as shocked as Devon felt, shaking his head every minute or so as if in awe.
‘I won’t ask how you found me,’ Danny said. ‘Pretty obvious really. Quinn, yeah? I should have known, after the stupid git told me he’d gone to see you after he met with Gemma, put himself on your radar, showing you those photos of the bruises. But he said you seemed to think I was dead, you know, weren’t looking for me alive, so I thought I’d be safe here, for a few more days anyway …’
He sighed. He had a soft Irish accent, his thick dark hair longer and even more curly and unruly than it had appeared in the photographs Devon had seen.
‘Safe? Safe from what?’ Devon said.
Danny shifted on his chair. He looked from Devon to Mike and then dropped his gaze to the table in front of him.
‘I’d … I’d rather not say. It’s … it’s difficult. Hard to explain.’
‘Well, we’re certainly going to need some sort of explanation, Mr O’Connor. Let’s take it slowly, shall we? You mentioned the pictures of the bruises just now – the bruises your cousin Quinn said your wife caused by beating you up? She said they were from a bike accident. Which account was true, Danny?’ Devon asked.
‘Bike,’ said Danny. ‘Sorry. We took the photos at the time because I was going to report the accident to the police, and then I didn’t bother, didn’t see the point. I didn’t know Quinn was going to do that with them, make up that story about Gemma. He didn’t tell me until he was back in London … look, do I really have to tell you everything? I mean, no crime’s been committed here, has it? I’m alive and well, Gemma’s done nothing wrong. Can’t we just leave it at that?’
He spread his hands in a placatory manner and smiled sheepishly.
Devon frowned. Is he serious?
‘No, we can’t. Do you realize how much trouble you’ve caused, Mr O’Connor? You do realize we thought you were possibly the victim of a serial killer, don’t you? I mean, it’s not an offence for an adult to vanish and not tell anyone, you’re entitled to do what you want and go where you please, but you must have seen the papers, heard the news? You must have known that we thought you were a murder victim? Why didn’t you at least call, text, send someone a message to let your friends and family know you were OK? They’ve been going through hell, Danny. And we suspected Gemma. We suspected Gemma, your wife, of killing you. Did you know that? We didn’t believe a word she said, and it appears now that she was telling us the truth all along.’
Danny lowered his head, sighed, then lifted his gaze to Devon’s again.
‘I did see the news, yes. And I know you did, and I’m so, so sorry about that. It just seemed like the only way …’
‘The only way to what? Look, Mr O’Connor, you could be in trouble here, maybe even facing charges. But if you explain, at least try to help us understand what’s gone on over the past few weeks, well, it can only help, OK? So please, start talking.’
Danny remained silent for several seconds, then nodded slowly, as if making a decision.
‘OK, I get it. I’ll try to explain. I don’t know if you’ll understand, but I’m going to try. And … well, if I’m going to do this I suppose I’d better start right from the beginning.’
Finally, thought Devon. Finally.
Danny paused, shifted in his chair again, then took a deep breath.
‘I’ve got myself in a bit of bother,’ he said. ‘Well, quite a lot of bother, actually. I’m an IT security specialist – well, I’m sure you know that already. A few months back, I was approached by someone to take on a private job. I wasn’t supposed to take on outside work – I was working for a company called Hanfield Solutions at the time, and they had a pretty strict policy about it. But the fella who approached me was very … very persuasive, shall we say. The money he was