Authors: Rob Kitchin
‘So you report to James Kinneally then?’
‘He kind of reports to me, to be honest. I told him what Dr Koch wanted and he reported back any news from head office. I liaised with all the heads of Dr Koch’s interests.’
‘A powerful job then?’
‘You could say that,’ Freel shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Dr Koch was an extraordinary man. Even in his nineties he was a brilliant businessman. He could spot grains of gold on a beach of sand, then hoover them all up to make a full bar.’
‘I’ve been told he was ruthless when conducting business; he must have made a lot of enemies?’
‘There’s no love in business, Superintendent; he would do what he needed to do. Sometimes there are casualties, but then what do you expect? He always said there are winners and losers, but never take prisoners; they bring nothing but trouble. People go in knowing what the rules and risks are and if you swim with sharks you’d better be a shark.’
‘So he tended to steamroll over people?’
‘He bought, sold and invested wisely,’ Freel pulled a sly smile. ‘He always drove a hard bargain. He never threatened physical harm or tried to intimidate people; he was too canny for that. He could spot a trend and he moved in and made it his own. He was always in at the ground level.’
‘And where were you Saturday night?’
‘In
London
, closing a deal. I flew over Friday evening, returned yesterday.’
‘So who should I be investigating then? Anybody hold a grudge? Maybe threatened him?’
‘If I were you, I’d start with his children, Marion and Charles. They’ve been pressuring him for years to let them take over the business.’
‘I didn’t think Charles was interested,’ McEvoy said, his brow furrowing. ‘He has his own career.’
‘Don’t believe everything you hear, Superintendent. In fact, take everything Marion and Charles Koch say with a large pinch of salt. They’re both a pair of schemers. Charles has been trying to persuade his father to invest in one of his hair-brained schemes for years. The stupid thing would cost millions and have very little commercial value. He’s also been pushing for his son, Francis, to be employed on a fast-track management scheme. He was worried that Mark D’Arcy would be in a prime position to take over Ostara, cutting out his children.’
‘And will he?’
‘Probably not. Mark’s not stupid, but he’s not got his grandfather’s vision. He’s plenty of his mother’s arrogance though. He’s probably already trying to use his family status to re-position himself in the company given his grandfather’s death. Dr Koch, however, could see right through him. He wanted Ostara to be run for the benefit of Ostara, not for the ego and gain of his family.’
‘And that means you?’
‘I’ve no idea. Perhaps,’ Freel shrugged.
‘You don’t seem too bothered.’
‘I’m still in shock to be honest. It’s a little disrespectful at this stage to be thinking about the future, don’t you think?’ Freel said disingenuously. ‘I spent fifty hours plus a week working with Dr Koch; he was a close friend.’
‘I get the impression he didn’t really have friends, just people who circulated around him.’
‘Well, you’re wrong there, I’m afraid. He had a small coterie of very close friends; people he kept in contact with regularly.’
‘Such as?’
‘His brother. Myself. Martin O’Coffey. Maurice Coakley.’
‘Who’s Maurice Coakley?’
‘He heads up Ostara Pharmacies. Koch and Coakley go way back.’
‘And Martin O’Coffey? I thought they were at war with each other over a piece of land?’
‘They were still friends. They used to take a drink together every Friday evening. It’s the grandson that’s got a chip on his shoulder. As I understand it they’re barely hanging on. The country might have had a boom but not all boats went up on the tide. The rural economy has long been in freefall. God knows how they’re surviving now.’
‘Do you think O’Coffey or his grandson could have killed Koch?’
‘It’s a possibility,’ Freel shrugged. ‘The grandson definitely seems to be teetering on the edge. He was up at the house again last week ranting, threatening legal action. Land and money are a potent combination. Who knows, maybe he cracked?’
‘And how did Dr Koch react to the threats?’
‘He just tried to calm him down and reason with him. He knew him well from when he was a child.’
‘And what did he do?’
‘Eventually he stormed off saying he was just going to take it back. We did what we always did – sent Simon Farrell, the farm manager, down to keep an eye on the place.’
‘Why didn’t he just give him the land if it’s only a narrow strip? A few feet was hardly going to make a difference given how many other properties he owned.’
‘It’s the principle. Dr Koch owned that piece of land, despite what the O’Coffeys thought. Once you give one concession, you’re on a slippery slope. It’ll then be another bit and then another.’
‘You said earlier that his son and daughter were trying to gain control of Ostara,’ McEvoy said, changing tack. ‘Were they working together?’
‘Not from what I could tell. Marion D’Arcy seems to have become increasingly obsessed with making sure Ostara stays within the family. The fact that her father wouldn’t tell anyone his intentions concerning what would happen when he passed away clearly worried her a lot. Probably with good reason. If I were him I would have lined up alternative successors. She might have built up a mediocre law firm, but she’s not up to running something as large and complex as Ostara. She knows absolute nothing about the sectors it works in and she’s a loose cannon. She has rubbing people up the wrong way down to an art form. Everything would be in disarray within a few weeks.’
‘And Charles? Did he want more than his son taken on?’
‘He just wanted his share. I think he was more worried about
Marion
. If she was to take over Ostara she’d have no problem freezing him and his side of the family out. All she’s interested in is herself. Ostara would give her serious political and celebrity clout. It would almost certainly make her the richest woman in
Ireland
. She’d revel in that title and all it would bring.’
‘Surely she’s already moving in all the right circles? Opening nights, gala charity events, the
VIP
paddocks?’
‘But this would make her the queen bee and also put her on the world map. Until now she’s been the daughter of a billionaire recluse with no access to his money. If she inherits his fortune she’ll move up into the super-rich.’
‘And do you think she’ll inherit his fortune?’
‘I’ve no idea. As I said, none of us do. He kept it to himself.’ Freel made a point of glancing down at his watch. ‘Look, Superintendent, I need to get on. I have a lot of things to get sorted.’
‘Right. Right, yes. One last thing. Can you think of anyone else who I should be taking an interest in? Anyone hanging round? Perhaps threatening him?’
Freel stared up at the ceiling for a moment. ‘There were a couple of East Europeans that called out a few times. He always seemed pretty agitated whenever they turned up. Other than that, no, not really.’
‘Have you any idea what they saw him about?’
‘He never said. It wasn’t business though; he’d have told me if it was. He just wanted them to go away. They certainly got to him, whatever it was; he was always a little distant afterwards.’
‘How many times did they call?’
‘I don’t know; four or five times when I was there?’
‘And when was the last time they called?’
‘Hmm… the Saturday before last?’
‘And do you think they might have been responsible for his death? Were they looking for something?’
‘I’ve no idea, Superintendent. Look, surely that’s your job? I need to get on.’ Freel stood and walked around the desk.
‘Yes, sorry,’ McEvoy pushed himself up out of his chair. ‘Look, perhaps I can talk to you again sometime? I need to get a better idea about Dr Koch and Ostara; get some sense of how everything’s organised.’
‘That shouldn’t be a problem. How about tomorrow lunch time? We’ll get some lunch on the company tab.’
‘I’d have thought that Dr Koch would have run a tight ship with respect to expenses,’ McEvoy stated.
‘Always feed the animals well before taking them to the market, you’ll get better prices,’ Freel smiled and opened the door.
* * *
As McEvoy neared the door to Ballyglass GAA club it opened and John Joyce exited.
‘You better be wearing a hard hat if you’re going in there,’ Joyce warned, ‘Galligan’s on the war path. He feels he’s being frozen out of the investigation.’
‘He was never
in
the investigation,’ McEvoy said, agitated. ‘How’re you getting on in any case? Have you found that missing gun yet?’
‘No. We’re going to get the lake dragged.’
‘And do we know what the killer was searching for?’
‘No. Roza, the housekeeper, has been through the whole place, but she can’t see anything obvious missing.’
‘I’m guessing there’s nothing from the questionnaires?’
‘Not that I’m aware of. You’d need to talk to Tom McManus. I did hear one interesting thing though. Marion D’Arcy is not Dr Koch’s natural daughter. He adopted her when he married her mother in the early 1950s. Somehow her family managed to keep her out of a Mother and Baby home; she’d have been a prime target. Marrying Koch gave them some level of respectability.’
‘Jesus.’
‘It gets better. Her mother was an O’Coffey. The neighbour he was fighting with over that piece of land was his brother-in-law!’
‘Well, that explains a few things,’ McEvoy mumbled.
‘Like what?’
‘Like why Koch and O’Coffey used to meet every Friday night for a drink; they were family – blood thicker than water and all that.’
‘Then why fight over a small strip of land?’
‘The principle; they both thought they were right. Somehow they managed not to conflate the personal with the professional, something I’m guessing the grandson wasn’t able to do. I’d better go and have a chat with Martin and Peter O’Coffey.’ McEvoy turned to head back to his car.
‘What about Galligan?’
‘For God’s sake!’ McEvoy wheeled round on his heels. ‘I’ll talk to you later, okay.’
The hum of conversation filled the incident room. Galligan had cornered Kelly Stringer between the coffee table and the white board. Even from the far side of the room McEvoy could see he was giving her a hard time.
‘You were looking for me?’ he asked, interrupting the local superintendent.
Stringer gave a weak smile.
‘What?’ Galligan wheeled round, his face red.
‘I said, you were looking for me?’
‘I… yes,’ Galligan muttered, momentarily knocked off track. ‘This murder happened on my patch. Given it’s my resources you’re using, I should be much more centrally involved in the case. Instead I’m being treated like a pariah!’
‘Look,’ McEvoy tried to say calmly, ‘no disrespect intended, but
NBCI
is running this investigation. We work closely with the local division and we try to involve them as much as we can, but we run the show. As the local superintendent, we ask that you deal with the media so we can concentrate on trying to catch the killer. That’s it.’