The Hanged Englishman

The Shadow of the victim casted a sinister viewing for O'Hara's new year's eve. A rope around his neck, the clear cause of death upon first inspection. O'Hara entered the room to finally see the full picture of the scene. A lifeless blue face hanging from the support beam that held together the old village house. The three police officers on the scene had appeared to indicate some points of interest for the inspectors to look at.

"Saoirse" Came a familiar, horrid & musky voice. It was that of garda Declan Murphy. "So you're the lacky who got the promotion hey. Still not carrying a gun I see" "I'm O'Hara now" She said with a slightly inflated sense of authority "Sáirsint O'Hara. And I don't need a gun, never have and never will" "Alright then Sáirsint O'Hara" Murphy said, seriously "We've noticed three points of interest. The chair next to him indicates a suicide. The hands have rope marks in them and he was facing toward this picture on the wall." He stopped talking for a moment to point towards the picture, which O'Hara noticed. It was of a middle aged woman, blonde, quite pretty and wearing glasses. "His wife?" O'Hara asked, eyes pealed to the portrait. "His deceased wife" Murphy replied. "When?" O'Hara asked. "I'll look into it" Murphy replied in return. O'Hara imminently approached the hand of the hanging man and instantly noticed something missing - there was no wedding ring.

She observed the hands with a particular focus. She had a hunch that the hands could prove this to be either a nice or a very boring case to crack. There were rope marks on the hands, that was true, but something about the marks didn't sit right with her. She then noticed the finger nails, there was certainly traces of rope underneath them. A sure sign of a potential struggle perhaps, or maybe just a quick regret. "Get me a step ladder" O'Hara called out, receiving one quickly. She stepped onto it to observe the knot of the rope. looking at it, she noticed that it wasn't a mere simple knot, but a more complex one. She got off the step ladder.

"Who is this man?" O'Hara asked the room. A silence fell. Did none of them think to ascertain who this person was? A moment passed again. Still there was an annoying silence. "Who is he?" O'Hara asked again, raising her voice. A few officers looked at each other, but not a single one looked toward O'Hara. Even Murphy, who was suddenly no where to be seen, didn't speak up. "Apparently, he was an Englishman by the name of Shaun Rice." Came a raspy old voice. O'Hara looked towards where the voice had come from. Just outside the room. Then, the man entered the room. He was old, in his 70s by now, with grey hair and wrinkled skin. He walked very well, upright and with surprising energy. It could only be one man, the Ard-Cheannfort, Dara O'Driscall.

"O'Driscall" O'Hara said, with neither any panic nor excitement, which left O'Driscall taken slightly aback. O'Hara noticed, but O'Driscall was clearly trying to keep that from her. "You must be O'Hara, the one whom recently found herself promoted" He said. "yes" O'Hara replied, dryly "Anyway, I can see no evidence of why he would want to hang himself" "He's facing his dead wife" O'Driscall replied quickly, as if expecting a confrontation. "There's no wedding ring on his finger" She replied, sharply. "I spoke with the neighbour, he was a regular at the local casino in the city. He probably pawned it off for gambling money" He paused for a moment "All the more reason for him to top himself too." He add dryly with a horrid smirk "But we should be sure" O'Hara demanded, albeit quietly "Fuck, I heard you were a mouthy one. You can look into him if you want"

2 Days later after his death -

O'Hara was sitting in her room on her day off. She knew that she shouldn't be working on her days off, as per her doctor's recommendation, but she persisted anyway. She had a whiteboard, where she had written up a full description of Shaun Rice. It all seemed too convenient, that a man with a dead wife and gambling issues would hang himself facing his wife after apparently pawning off his wedding ring. One thing rang true in her mind more than anything, the hands, his hands.

She observed the full description on her whiteboard, looking whilst snacking on olives. She could hear one of her housemates having a nice time with her new boyfriend, which was proving to be rather distracting. She put her earphones in and started to listen to some classical music, the easiest music to think to.

He was 60 years old, Born in Birmingham and married an Irish woman when he was 30. A life long salary man, never once seeming to do any practical work. He house has no such tools, no drills, no hammers, not even a screwdriver. Someone whom always got a man in to do the work.

Why did he leave England? Well, who wouldn't? Everywhere was closed to English refugees these days. He arrived in Cork when he was 19, with his mother and sister. His father killed in the civil war. His mother is dead too, and his Sister emigrated to Australia 15 years ago.

He and his wife never had children, but there's no information on whether or not he was shooting blanks of if she was barren.

O'Hara reached for another olive to snack on, but found that it was empty. "Fucking shrinkflation" She said to herself, quietly. She went towards the door to find some more olives in the fridge. But, as was walking toward to kitchen, she noticed that her housemates door was open. She must have though she was out or at work as she usually was after all. O'Hara decided to take no notice, but along the way, she noticed that her Housemate's boyfriend... was a girl.

Her housemate noticed O'Hara, and scrambled to her feet at a lightning speed, running towards her, seemingly forgetting that she was completely naked. "Saoirse!" She said, with restless breath, "Fuck fuck fuck!" She said, panicked. She looked at her housemate for a moment, earphones still in her ears, her eyes deliberately looking only at her eyes. She took out one earphone. "Parisa" O'Hara said "I see that you and your friend are watching a steamy movie together. I can understand why you didn't want to watch it in the living room" O'Hara gave Parisa a smile, and walked away, towards to kitchen.

"Saoirse!" Parisa said restlessly, following her to the kitchen. At least she had some clothes on now "Please" Saoirse O'Hara looked up from the fridge as she had the olives she was after. She looked up at Parisa, the poor girl was shaking all over. Her hands, which were resting on the fridge door, couldn't be kept still. O'Hara heard the front door close, and guessed it her Parisa's friend silently leaving. O'Hara didn't speak.

"The Next three months, the rent, I'll pay!" Parisa offered, clearly in desperation. O'Hara smiled at Parisa, took her olives and walked away.

3 days after his death -

O'Hara was in the office on her day off, to the annoyance of O'Driscall. "You know" He started "You're not getting paid for today" "I have no hobbies boss" O'Hara quickly replied "No fella, no book I'm reading, no gym I like to go to, no nothing. Just a mind that needs stimulating" "Well can't you just do some fecking crosswords then?" He said, with a frustrated, but also slightly humorous tone. O'Hara wondered if he was starting to like her, or if he found it hilarious just how robotic she was. Either way, she mealy gave a smile, then returned back to work. She was looking through old photographs of Rice's life. She was going through them one by one and, every now and then, she would take one photo and place it into a separate pile.

She had finished looking through the photos, and brought the pile to the face man. "Over 100 pictures of this couple, seemed to be friends of Rice" She said "Who the fuck is Rice, O'Hara?" He replied, keeping his eyes locked on his computer screen. "Christ sake" She said with frustration "Shaun Rice, reported hanging to death three days ago." She replied, frustrated "Time?" He asked "About nineteen-hundred" She replied "Alright then, yep on it." He said "Can you confirm these images are him please?" She asked, handing him the photos. He took the photos and placed them in a tray. He then turned the analyser on. "The ageing is a 98% match to our Mr Rice." He said "Bingo" "Well" O'Hara said "These two, can you find who they are?" She asked. "Make me a tea, by the time you're back, I have them"

O'Hara was now back at her desk with the information she needed. The couple were the Araujo's, a Mister Pablo and a Misses Mary. Pablo was of Brasilian descent and, unfortunately, deceased. O'Hara checked to see what his cause of death was - Public beating. A gang pulled him out into the street and beat him to death. Why? Apparently it was unknown.

Mary was still alive, and someone O'Hara knew she needed to talk to. She looked up her address. Lisburn, fecking Lisburn! The other side of the country. The journey would take her all day. She looked out the window. Still daylight, although fogged by the clouds and rain. She was about to leave when all of a sudden, O'Driscall approached her.

"There's an acid rainstorm tonight O'Hara" He said "So you should go home now before we're forced to pay you overtime." "I need to go to Lisburn" O'Hara replied bluntly "Why would anyone need to go there?" He asked, genuinely puzzled "To talk to this lady" She replied, showing him one of the many photographs. "You're on the clock tomorrow" He said sharply "Then take it out of my overtime last week then" O'Hara responded, charging away from her desk and toward the car park.

4 days after his death -

O'Hara was up early as per usual, but this time in her hotel room in Lisburn. The drive was long and the rain had caused many accidents. Fewer people spoke Irish here, they were mainly just English speakers. There were still no road signs in Irish, or anything for that matter.

The rain was still beating down outside, which forced O'Hara to stay indoors until midday, by which point she had become very hungry, so she ate before pursuing her lead. She only got a sandwich, crisps, a tea coffee and some olives, which she ate in her car. She then drove towards a certain Mrs Mary Araujo.

*Knock Knock Knock. No answer. 'feck' O'Hara thought to herself, she wasn't home yet. She waited in her. There wasn't a whole lot to think about and she wasn't the fondest of waiting around, but she didn't want to waste a single second. She thought about her housemate, Parisa. She didn't know her very well, she seldom spoke to her as she was always too busy with work, or she at least chose to be. Finally caught her.

Her mind went back to when she was an on the beat garda. Called to help escort some illegal refugees - all refugees were illegal after all. They were to be deported. Not back to Scotland of course, but instead to Argentina. Some third country option, who were looking for cheap labour. So many of her colleges, including Murphy, hated them. Murphy spat in the mother's face and called her an ugly whore. There was a time where Scots where supposed to be our Celtic brothers and sisters, and now we're spitting on them? How did it all come to this? O'Hara looked at her reflection in the wing mirror. She saw that same look she had the day she signed up to the police force, that of determination. Her eyes as sharp as ever.

As she was thinking, she noticed a lady approaching the door. It was Mary! O'Hara decided to allow her to be home for at least 10 minutes before she would knock again.

*Knock Knock Knock. The door opened. "Mary Araujo?" O'Hara asked, looking directly at her eyes. She looked back at her with suspicion, eyeing her up and down. "Did you know Shaun Rice Mrs Araujo?" O'Hara pressed. She just looked at her, dead eyed. O'Hara knew that look, but it wasn't going to be enough. "I knew him" She finally replied "Who are you?" 'You knew?' O'Hara thought to herself. "I'm Sáirsint O'Hara, I'm investigating the death of Shaun Rice. May I ask a few questions?" O'Hara asked. "Well I can't say no can I" Mary replied, opening the door for O'Hara to enter.

O'Hara entered the house, instantly noticing a picture on the wall. "Did you use to be a sailor?" She asked "My father was a fisherman and I went on the odd catch with him from time to time" She replied. "So, you know how to tie knots then I take it?" O'Hara asked. Mary didn't respond. 'haha' O'Hara thought to herself. "Sit here" Mary said, pointing to a chair "And hurry up" O'Hara looked at the chair briefly, then back at Mary. She wasn't carrying anything and had no time to pick any sort of weapon up. Maybe she could have noticed O'Hara waiting in her car. It all seemed so conveniently set up, how would she view the TV with the chairs organised in this fashion? She did a quick scan of Mary. No tights, no long socks and no long skirt either. Jeans and a shirt, in other words the worst clothes to conceal a weapon in. So, if anywhere, her chair could be the only place. "Ahh, lovely" Said O'Hara, deliberately sitting in the wrong chair. She quickly reached behind herself. Yep, there was a gun alright. Safety mode off, O'Hara quickly flicked it on. "No that chair, this is my chair. My favourite" Mary said, indicating at O'Hara to get up. "Ah, of course. My apologies" Said O'Hara, standing up.

"Recording started" O'Hara bluffed, as she sat down in the correct chair. Mary Sat opposite her, on the sofa. There was a TV in the corner, showing a repeat of doctor who.

"Fan of the old British television?" O'Hara asked. "Yea, Always loved them. Shame most episode are banned these days" She replied. "Oh, I didn't realise" O'Hara replied, despite knowing this already "yea, a lot of episode have gay characters. Or messages of not killing each other. Dangerous thoughts in this day and age" Mary said "What about you Mary?" O'Hara asked "What about me?" Mary replied, clearly confused "Yea, how much of your life would be illegal with today's government?" O'Hara explained "What should I say? I know I legally have to reply but I haven't a clue on what to say" She said. O'Hara gave a glance. She could see that she had hit a nerve with that question, it would be best to push it a lot more later.

"So, Shaun. Was he the outdoors type?" O'Hara asked, changing the topic. "What an odd thing to ask" Mary replied "Well you see, Shaun was found dead outside" O'Hara lied. "And if it were suicide then I imagine that he would wish to spend his final moments where he loved being the most."

O'Hara could see that Mary was thinking, contemplating what had been told to her. There was no way Mary could know where his body was found and how it came to expire. It wasn't printed in any newspaper after all. She was only informed that he was dead, no extra details. "Sorry" Mary spoke, finally "It's just that, he was a very good friend of mine. So, yea, it's hard to hear that he would have died where he didn't enjoy being" "So he didn't like being outside?" O'Hara pushed "No" Mary replied bluntly "No he didn't.

"How did you know Shaun?" O'Hara asked. Mary looked up at her, her hand slightly reaching back. "I'm unarmed by the way" She added "So if you want to shoot me, I have no way of shooting you back" "What?" Mary asked, confused, very much taken aback. "You've got to be the only pig fuck, the only revenue protection, the regime guard dogs who is fucking stupid enough to not carry a gun." Mary voiced raised louder and louder as she shouted at O'Hara. Her anger evident. O'Hara gritted her teeth at Mary's remarks. "You resorted to that weapon much quicker than I anticipated you would" O'Hara said, leaning back rather than forward. "But I was aware of it, and I removed the clip" She lied.

O'Hara could feel her heart thumping at the highest rate she had ever felt. She had to use all of her self-control to stop herself from shaking. A smile emerged on her face as she looked at Mary. "Shaun had a gambling problem, is that correct?" O'Hara asked. Mary still hadn't taken the gun seemingly believing what O'Hara had told her. O'Hara could see that she was no natural born killer, she wasn't someone meant to use a gun. She almost certainly didn't own the gun. Wait... of course! "Actually fuck the gambling question" O'Hara said in a flash with a delightful glee "That's his gun right?" she then asked "He was, after all, found shot to death. Perhaps the bullets came from that fucking gun!"

"I didn't fucking shoot him!" Mary screamed. 'Got you' O'Hara thought to herself, whilst trying to stop a wide beaming smile from ruining Mary's confession. "He wanted to end it all, but he didn't have it in him. So I helped him"

There was a silence for a moment. Mary had shrunk into her sofa, falling deeper and deeper in. The crime for assisted suicide was execution after all. "One more thing Mary. Both the Araujo's and the Rice's never had children." Said O'Hara, looking deep into Mary's soul at this point. She was going to have her on the hook just in a moment. "You thought having him face his wife would trick me?" She asked rhetorically, and with a little bit of venom in her voice. "You fucked his wife whilst he fucked you husband. Am I correct?" O'Hara asked. "Last Question" She added. Mary at this point had fallen apart. She was clearly shaking and was potentially about to have a panic attack. O'Hara knew she had taken it a bit far, but when she felt the beating of her heart, oh she sure knew that it was all worth it. It was all so... exhilarating. "Yes" Mary confessed, finally!

O'Hara looked at Mary. She got her! She started to laugh, and laugh, and laugh. More and more manically. She then screamed "YES!" at the top of her lungs. Mary looked up at her, confused. "Don't worry, I won't arrest you" She said. Mary's confusion was very much evident, from the look her eyes gave and also the fact that her jaw literally dropped. But she said nothing, most likely dehydrated and exhausted. O'Hara knew all too well. "I sympathise with the gays you see, and I also know that you know someone" She said.

5 Days after his death -

"It's as you said boss" O'Hara said "Clear suicide. I didn't find anything else." "You're not getting paid for yesterday you know. Anyway, you can write the report" Said O'Driscall.

O'Hara sat at her desk, a smile hidden beneath her sterile face. She looked at the card that Mary had given her and observed it for a moment. She realised that she enjoyed interrogating her a little bit too much, and decided to buy her dinner afterwards as a sort of apology. She looked up at O'Driscall, who was talking to some on the beat Garda about whatever. A smile beckoned on her face.