The Rhode Incident - Ch 3
By itsnotnatural
- 264 reads
For 8 days there had been a manhunt/search party looking for both the missing persons and the main suspect, Michael O'Higgins. It had expanded into 5 counties but they found very little of those people so far. All that they had found were a few scraps of clothing and some rapidly fading footsteps heading out into the bog that surrounded the village.
Additionally, there was almost no helpful information to be gleaned from learning of their histories, backgrounds, records, and documents nor did their behaviour during their "final" hours suggest that anything was wrong. In other words, no one was expecting it.
When the residences were searched and the residents questioned, it only served to validate that theory. There had been no obvious signs of struggle and anyone who had lived with the victims all said the same thing: It's as if he/she just got up and disappeared. Of course, this was explained with a variety of reasons, the most common one being that the missing would have told their loved ones or left them a note somewhere before leaving. Something else that was consistent with the claims was that when they woke up that morning, they found the bed sheets next to them neatly pulled back with the corner off to the side. Just like they said... they just upped and disappeared.
The Walsh house was located on the other side of Edenderry which posed no problem to Detective McDonagh except for the fact that he forgot it was busy this time of day and he might have been a little late for the interview. Luckily, that didn't happen and he soon pulled up to the house.
Nothing looked wrong on the outside. Sure, there were a couple of sprouts coming up through the driveway and the steps elevating Eamon up to the front door appeared to be cracked but that would be fairly normal. What wasn't particularly normal was the fact that after the detective knocked on the door, he waited for approximately 5 minutes before it opened. A large, round, balding man finally swung the door open, albeit slowly, and uttered a short "Yeah?"
"Hello, I'm Detective McDonagh, I called you earlier, remember?"
"I don't recall picking up the phone, hey Eliza?"
"Yeah?"
"Did ya get a call from a Detective McDonagh?"
"Why yes I did. Is he here right now?"
"He's at the door."
"Ok."
Eamon could hear her take a couple of deep breaths before hearing the footsteps approach the door. Her husband moved to the side to let her through before he retreated back into the house.
Eamon looked upon Eliza who was the same height as him. Her eyes were red and puffy, her hair was completely grayed and unkempt, she was quite wrinkly, and he saw that she shook a bit. She struggled to smile as she welcomed him into their house. He noticed right away that the porch and farther, was a complete mess. There were various dishes piled up in the sink and on the counter, garbage surrounded the full garbage can, there was even an article or two clothing in the kitchen that came from the porch. He tried not to look disgusted as he followed Eliza through the kitchen and into the dining room where her husband was waiting; Eliza motioned for Eamon to sit down.
Before he could do so though, the husband suddenly yelled at him "Why now? Why do this now, 8 days after the fact, instead of havin done it the day after?"
"You're right, I'm sorry. I don't know what happened."
'What in the bloody hell do you mean you don't know what happened?!"
Eamon could smell that strong, pungent odor of alcohol off the man's breath as he was yelling at him.
"What do you mean?"
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to calm down."
"I'm not going to calm down! Tell me what happened! Tell me! Tell me!"
"Patrick, ple-"
"Shut up, Eliza!"
"Sir, please calm down and thi-"
"No!"
Patrick stood up and Eamon was ready to defend himself. As he did so. he told the old drunkard that he would tell him if he would sit back down. Surprisingly, he complied.
"Alright, I was put on this particular case just yesterday and the lad before me, well I'm not really sure what happened. He never called in sick, though everyone assumed he was because they thought he looked ill during his second day working on this same case and so they waited for 4 days for him to call before they replaced him with me so, there you go."
"What a bunch of fucking imbeciles" Patrick muttered. He got up from his seat once again and still cursing under his breath, pushed past Eliza and walked into the living room.
"Patrick where are you going?" Eliza yelled to him.
"I'll be here if ya need me!" he shot back angrily.
"So" Detective McDonagh began "Let's get right down to it. Did you keep in touch with your daughter?"
"Yes."
"How often did you keep in contact?"
"As often as I can."
"Which is..."
"A couple of times a week."
"How do you keep contact?"
"E-mail and phone mostly."
"Did she ever talk about her husband?"
"Of course. She talked about him all the time."
"What did she say about him?"
"How he was such a great father, what he did on some days, how he felt, those sorts of things."
"Did you ever meet him or talk to him yourself?"
"Yes, a number of times."
"And what did you think?"
"I liked him."
"Did you think there was anything wrong with him?"
"No, not at all. He seemed perfectly normal."
"He didn't seem violent or off or odd or anything like that?"
"No... well, Emily did mention that he took medication, but only for arthritis. I don't know if he took anything else."
"Ok, and how did Emily see her marriage?"
"She said that it was a very healthy relationship and that there was very little wrong with it."
"What about the bit that was wrong?"
"He simply had a busy job."
"Doing what?"
"Web developing."
"Where?"
"Somewhere in Pearse Park, Tullamore."
"How long?"
"12 hours."
"Per day, per week, per-"
"Per day, okay?"
"Okay. Does Patrick know anything?"
"No he doesn't. In fact, he thinks Michael was a manipulating arsehole and that he wasn't surprised that this happened."
"Uh-huh. Should I go ask him?"
"No, that's why I just tol-"
"Ask me about what?!"
"Nothing Patrick."
"Good, now go away before I get a knife, ya blighty-faced bastard!"
"Please go now." Eliza begged the detective before shoving him through the kitchen and into the porch. She made him hurry his shoes on and pushed him out onto the step before slamming the door behind him. The behavior made him suspicious of the activities within the house but that was something for another day.
Eamon drove back to the station and collected his notes before striding in. He spent a few minutes gathering the rest of his notes and any documents that he had in his office before moving on into the conference room. The rest of the task force was already there where they discussed the evidence and what they would do next.
DNA samples that had been taken from hair found in the few bits of clothing that were discovered hadn't produced any results yet (probably because the tests weren't done) and there were other footprints that were discovered that were similar to the ones found near the bog but they were few and far between.
Before Eamon had been put to the task, there had already been a number of interviews conducted with the family lawyer, the doctor who prescribed O'Higgins' medicine, a couple of schoolteachers, and an instructor at a college campus in Edenderry. The family lawyer hadn't been around Michael enough to really notice any differences, the teachers didn't notice anything abnormal when he was in their classes, same thing with the instructor.
However, the doctor did notice something was wrong. He noted that when Michael came in, he looked extremely fatigued. When he asked Michael about it, he acknowledged its existence and asked for something to counter it. The doctor said he gave Michael stimulants to counter said fatigue. "Michael appeared to be rather agitated as well, not to mention I never saw him after." A quote directly from the doctor himself.
That was it. It wasn't much in the way of evidence, but the lack of evidence made the picture clearer. There were two popular theories floating around: 1. That the missing had been taken as hostages by this one person and were forced out into the bog at night, or 2. They had willingly got up out of bed and walked outside, with no shoes and only the clothes on their backs, in the night, into the bog, collectively. As unlikely as the former was, Eamon hoped that that was what happened, otherwise, there was something else going on and contemplating that was terrifying.
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