The Last Four Days of Paddy Buckley Read Online Free PDF

Brigid. Do you mind if I take a look at your mam?”
    â€œGo ahead,” whispered Brigid, and she got up from the floor and stood back while Robyn leaned down and checked for a pulse.
    â€œYeah,” Robyn said softly, “she’s gone.”
    They brought in the stretcher and placed Lucy’s remains on it before covering her with a white sheet. Robyn explained that Lucy’s remains would be brought to Clondalkin hospital, and then Brigid and I stood by the door and watched them leave with Lucy. The low panic was rising again. I had to get out of there.
    â€œBrigid, this has obviously changed everything for you, and you’ll want time to digest it. Is there anyone you’d like me to call for you?”
    She shook her head. “No.”
    â€œMaybe I could come back later in the afternoon to discuss the funeral. Would that be okay?”
    She looked like a little girl lost at a fair, shocked and aware that she’d been left alone, but secure enough in her own skin to be able to deal with it. There was nothing I could do for her.
    â€œThat’s fine,” she whispered.
    And I was gone.

THREE
    12:25 p.m.
    I pulled up outside the mortuary at Clondalkin hospital, one of the biggest and busiest in Dublin. Because there were no autopsies done on Sundays, there was always a double load waiting after the weekend for Eddie Daly, the man who ran the mortuary and opened up all the bodies for the pathologists to work on. He was standing outside the front doors in his stained white coat, smoking a cigarette when I got out of my Camry. I nodded at him. As always, he wore a jaundiced, suffering smile.
    â€œEddie, how you getting on?”
    â€œStruggling, and yourself?”
    â€œKeeping busy. Listen, I’ve just come from a house off Wellington Road where I was making arrangements for a man with his wife, and when she went upstairs to get the clothes, she dropped dead.”
    â€œLucy Wright.”
    â€œThat’s her.”
    â€œShe’s inside.”
    â€œI know you’re up to your bollocks here, Eddie, I thought I could save you and the pathologists some time. She had angina, she told me herself before she went upstairs, so no need for a postmortem.”
    â€œShe’s down to be posted in the morning, Paddy, and that’s the end of it. It’s not up to you or me anyway, you know that.”
    â€œWho’s down to do it?”
    â€œNorman.”
    â€œIs he inside?”
    â€œYou don’t want to see him, Paddy, he’s like a bear with a sore prick.”
    â€œMaybe I can cheer him up,” I said.
    Norman Furlong looked like a bully chef. His flopping ginger mane and mustache lent a flamelike effect to his already fiery character, augmented by his pink skin and bulging gray eyes. Most undertakers I knew were intimidated by him to the point of staying well out of his way, but I hadn’t a problem with him. And despite the fact that I’d never particularly warmed to the guy, today I simply had to talk to him.
    The PM room was off limits to nonstaff. Written in black and red on the door was: NO ENTRY—RESTRICTED PERSONNEL ONLY . I pushed the door open and stuck my head in. Norman was standing over a remains cut open from neck to navel.
    â€œNorman,” I said, like we were buddies.
    He looked up from the remains and focused on me with fire in his eyes.
    â€œWhat are you doing in here?”
    â€œJust passing by and thought I could save you some time. Lucy Wright had angina, so no real need for an autopsy.”
    â€œGet the fuck out of here,” he said.
    â€œI’ll leave you to it,” I said, and walked out of the room.
    When I got back outside, Eddie was still there. “You didn’t come up here especially for that, did you?” he said, flicking the butt of his cigarette away.
    â€œNo, I’ve to visit my brother-in-law, he’s up in St. Michael’s. My jammer all right there?” I said, pointing