“I don’t know.”

Was Helen hiding something? Maura didn’t know her well enough to guess. “Do the gardaí want to talk to you again?”

“They did say what we said yesterday wasn’t an official statement, right? I don’t really understand how this all works. They can’t investigate officially until someone else gives them permission? Or do they go ahead even if they don’t really think someone killed John? I already volunteered to give them more details about the hotel project and its recent history if they want it. I haven’t heard anything from them. I assume they’ll talk to the hotel staff and get back to us later,” Helen said.

“I don’t get that whole business about the coroner, although I guess how they label the death is his decision. As for them not getting back to you, it may mean only that they’re short-handed. They’ve just added a new guy, but I don’t know if he’s up to speed yet.”

“That large man from yesterday? He didn’t seem to fit well with the others, I must say.”

Maura nodded. “I had met him once before, but I did get the feeling he thought I didn’t belong in the room. Did you kill John?” Might as well try a surprise attack and see how Helen reacted.

Helen looked startled by the abrupt question. “Seriously? No, I did not. He was my employer. We got along well, both professionally and personally. Why would I kill him?”

Maura took a bite of her breakfast—the hotel would probably want the table once the churches let out. “Frankly, I don’t know you well enough to guess. Maybe you’ve been seeing him on the side for years. Maybe it was the only way he’d let you keep your job. Maybe you were allergic to his cologne and you snapped and shoved him.”

“Maura, you’re being ridiculous. None of that is true. Have your police friends told you any more about when and how he died?”

“No. You heard the detective—they had only a rough guess as of yesterday morning, and they don’t call and give me daily updates. If I have a question and ask it, they’ll probably give me an answer, but I don’t overuse that—I save it for important things. And I told you, I do share with them what I hear or learn from people at the pub or neighbors. You’d be surprised how many bits and pieces of information you can pick up in the pub, if you pay attention. Look, if you’re going to confess to something, I’m going to tell them. Right now I owe the gardaí here more than I owe you. Sorry if that sounds harsh.”

“I suppose I deserve that,” Helen said quietly. “Why don’t we start with what I do know? Which is what I’ll be telling the—gardee, right?”

“Close enough. Okay, I heard what you told them, but there are other things I’d like to know. Let’s start with when your group arrived in the country.”

“We didn’t all come together. There were four of us on this trip. John and his personal assistant, Andrew, came from Germany, I believe, where they were inspecting a potential property. They arrived at the hotel on Tuesday afternoon. My assistant, Tiffany, and I reached the hotel that evening. Tiffany called you at Sullivan’s on Wednesday, and we all met with you there on Thursday. The rest of the time we spent touring the grounds at Crann Mor, talking to the staff, observing day-to-day operations, and exploring local venues.”

“Did you all stay together all that time?”

Helen nodded. “More or less. We all had dinner together at the hotel on Wednesday night to evaluate the chef and the service. You should be flattered that we all came to see your place—that wasn’t true for all of our potential locations. As I’m sure you know, there are a number of nearby pubs, but yours offered the added asset of music.”

“I still don’t quite get what you want from me, but we can talk about that some other time. Anyway, you and I had lunch together on Friday. Did you see John after that?” Maura asked.

Helen carefully aligned the silverware on her now-empty plate. “We spent a little time together in the bar in the late afternoon—again, as a professional assessment. We’re all familiar with the hotel on paper, but it’s quite different when you’re actually there. The local staff may report that they have high standards for cleanliness, but sometimes you get there and find spider webs in the corners. That kind of detail matters to our clients.”

“Sure, fine. So John was still alive at, say, five on Friday. And you didn’t see him after that?”

“No. I went upstairs early, ordered a meal from room service—which should be on record—reviewed my notes, and went to bed. Oh, and I called my family on my cell, late-ish, to accommodate the time difference. There’ll be a record of that too.”

“And John was found Saturday morning with his skull bashed in,” Maura said, almost to herself. “I wish I knew more of the details of where he was found, but the gardaí have no reason to tell me. Based on what Detective Hurley said, he was found outside of the hotel wearing nice clothes and shoes, so he it sounds like he hadn’t changed after dinner. You said he was a sharp dresser?”

“It was more that he liked quality in his clothes—I think I told you that. I don’t recall that I’ve ever seen him in jeans or a sweatshirt.”

“So he doesn’t sound like the type to take a walk in the dark after dinner to settle his stomach, much less dressed nicely and wearing the wrong shoes. Or at least, not past the garden. You’ve already said you don’t know if he was meeting someone, either for dinner or after. I guess the hotel bills would show if he charged for more than a couple of drinks. Did he know anyone else around here?”

“If he did, he didn’t mention it to me.”

“Did you like him?”

Helen seemed startled by the abrupt change of tack. “Maura, why do you want to know that? We worked together well, as colleagues. I wouldn’t say we were friends, exactly. If you asked him to give five personal facts about me, he’d probably get stuck at three. And I’d be in the same position with him. Married—yes, but I’ve never met her. Kids—I think so. Golf? He mentioned it occasionally. I don’t know how much you know about the business world, but we’re not all like the buddy-buddy California high-tech model, hanging out around the communal gym. We’re more professional than that. Cordial. Polite. No shouting matches, no storming out of the room slamming doors. Nothing points to a reason for murder.”

“Did he sleep around?” Maura asked.

“Not that I ever knew about, but why would I? As I said, he was a private man. Look, I’ve asked that the office forward to me a list of all the past employees at the hotel from the last five years, which is as far back as our records go. Just in case your police need them. They or someone up the line can check if any of them had any prior connections to John or this area.”

“Okay, so as far as your tour of the hotel goes, everything was just peachy? Nobody found any dirty linens or fungus in the kitchen or anything?” Maura scanned the room again: more tables were filled now.

Helen cocked her head. “Maura, why do you keep looking around? Are you worried that someone will see or hear us?”

“No, not that. I know you manage hotels so you should get it. This is a small place. It’s Sunday, and a lot of people come to town for church and maybe a nice meal. We’re taking up a table.”

“Goodness, I hadn’t even thought of that. Should we go somewhere else?”

“I’d give it another ten minutes, and then we should leave.” The waitress stopped by to refill their coffee cups, and Helen said, “Could you bring the check, please?”

When the waitress had left, Helen resumed. “To get back to your question, no, we didn’t find anything objectionable about Crann Mor. It’s a beautiful site, and the local management team is doing good work. There are a few structural issues with the building itself, but nothing that needs urgent attention. We want to take our time to assess the balance between maintaining the historic character of the place and allowing it to operate more efficiently in the modern world.”

“Has your group done a lot of places like this?”

“A couple of dozen over time, I’d say. I haven’t been directly involved in most of them. Do you want me to provide references? The majority of the places that we’ve worked with still retain us as consultants, so it would seem that they were satisfied with the service we provided.”

“You make good money?”

Helen looked surprised at the question. “Do I personally? Or does the group? Yes, by most standards, to both. We also participate in profit sharing, so we have a stake in maintaining our reputation.”

“What happens now that John is dead?”

A troubled expression crossed Helen’s face. “I . . . don’t know. I assume Andrew has notified the board of directors, and they will have to convene and consider the succession.”

“Are you in the running?”

“Good heavens, no!” Helen said, laughing. “I’ve only just been promoted to my current position. And let me tell you, there are very few women in management-level positions in this kind of group. A fact that has always surprised me since women tend to be much more attuned to the smaller details that make a hotel or resort appealing and comfortable for its guests.”

“So you don’t benefit from John’s death?”

“No. He was a mentor of sorts, based solely on my performance. I’m good at my job, Maura. I’ve worked hard to get here. I had no reason to kill John Byrne. His death doesn’t help me in the least.”

“And you don’t know of anyone else who benefits either,” Maura stated rather than asked.

Helen shook her head. “I’m sorry—I wish I could help. Could it be someone local?”

“Unlikely, I’d say, but I guess it’s not impossible. We peasants don’t wander around the grounds over there, even if they’re open to the public. The gardaí are checking out the staff, which probably is local, but it’s hard to think that any of them would want to kill someone they had barely met. Where was John from, originally?”

“I really don’t know. Which sounds odd, to say it now. He never talked about his early years.”

“Did he hit on women when he was traveling?”

Helen stared at Maura. “Seriously? No! Are you suggesting that he was chasing one of the housekeepers around in the woods in the dark and she shoved him to his death?”

“It’s been known to happen. I’m just asking.”

Helen was silent for a moment. “You know, you’re pretty good at this. Interrogation, I mean.”

“I’m just asking logical questions. And I’m sure the gardaí will ask the same ones. Uh, you don’t have to tell them we had this conversation—or at least, all the details. They might accuse me of helping you get your story straight.”

“Your gardaí don’t know I’m your mother yet, right?” When Maura shook her head, Helen went on. “So this is about that family loyalty thing? You’d try to protect me even though you just met me after all these years?”

“They might think so, when they find out about us.”

The waitress returned with the check for breakfast, and Helen paid by credit card. When they had the receipt, Maura guided Helen out the door that faced the river.

“You want to sit for a minute?” Maura pointed toward the low wall on the river side of the driveway.

“Sure.” They sat, and Helen looked out over the river and the marshes beyond. Finally, she said, “You don’t seem to like me much.”

“I don’t know you,” Maura said. “And I’ve got a lot of years of resentment that I’ve been carrying around, so you’re going to have to work hard to erase that.”

“Do you want to?” Helen asked softly.

Maura hesitated before answering. “I don’t know yet. Say we hit it off—what would happen? You’d invite me back to meet my brother and sister, and we’d all share holiday dinners? We’d send each other birthday cards once a year? What do you want?”

“Maura, you can decide what comes next. That includes telling me to get lost. I’d regret that, but it’s up to you.”

Maura nodded once. “Let me think about it. And let’s get John’s death out of the way. It’s hard to worry about all this at once.”

“Fair enough.” Helen’s cell phone rang in the depths of her purse, and she pulled it out and read a text. “Looks like your police are ready for me. It’s at the other end of the main street from here, isn’t it? I can walk it in a few minutes?”

“Sure. Get to know the town, even though most places are closed on a Sunday. It’s a good place, although it may not be up to the standards of your people.”

“Maura, my people, as you put it, want to see something real. People who can afford our hotels aren’t snobs—they’ve got plenty of other places to go if all they want is parties and yachts. They would come here for different reasons.”

“If you say so. So far they haven’t come into Sullivan’s.” Maura stood up. “I’d better get over to the pub and see what’s what. Thanks for breakfast.”

“Thank you for being willing to talk to me, Maura. I’ll let you know what happens with the police.”

“Great.” Helen stood up as well, then walked toward the center of the town, and Maura went around the side of the hotel to get to her car. When she got in, she sat for a few minutes without starting the engine. What did she think? For a start, she didn’t feel any sort of kinship with the fairly polished, intelligent professional woman that Helen was now, even though she knew Helen had started from pretty much the same place that she had. Great, so now she knew that it was possible to remodel your life if you wanted to and tried hard enough. She wasn’t sure she was cut out for that.

But then, she hadn’t really considered a long-term plan for her life since she’d arrived here. How long was she going to stay? Forever? A couple of years? Not that she had anything to go “home” to in Boston, and life was cheaper here. And slower. And friendlier. She was in no hurry to leave, it seemed.

But right now, she had to get back to the pub and see what rumors were flying around. And deal with seeing Mick after what had happened the night before.