Chapter 46: The Alpha's Fingerprints

I wrote it all down on the back of Nora's list with a pencil that had been on the dresser since my sister's time, and when Margaret had finished I read it back to her and she said yes to every line and then she said, "There is one thing more and it is the thing your sister told me to say if a woman with gold hair ever telephoned. She said, tell her the ring has been in the box since 1921 and the box has been in the wall since 1961 and the only wolf who has ever put a hand in that box is the woman who took it out."

"The wall," I said. "What wall?"

"The wall of the hall," Margaret said. "Your sister said there is a press in the wall behind the frame and the box is in the press and the press is opened with the key that opens the frame. And she said the woman who took the box out of the press was the woman with the silver hair and she took it out in December and she put it back in March."

The line went quiet. I could hear the kettle in the background and the fire.

"Margaret," I said. "Did my sister say how she knew the box had been taken out?"

"She said the box was dusty and the dust had been disturbed," Margaret said. "And she said there was a mark on the lid of the box that had not been there before. A print. A print of a hand in the dust, with four fingers and a thumb, and the thumb was on the side of the lid where a left hand would go and the fingers were on the top where a right hand would go, and the woman who took the box out of the press put her hands on it in a hurry and left the print behind."

I sat at the kitchen table with the pencil in my hand and the whole of it turned over.

"Did she photograph it?" I said.

"She did not have a camera and she did not dare take the box. But she did a thing that was cleverer than a photograph." Margaret's voice was dry and careful. "She had a piece of paper and a pencil and she laid the paper over the print and she rubbed the pencil over it and the print came up on the paper. And she put the paper in the box with the ring and she told me to keep it and she said, if the woman with gold hair comes, give her the rubbing and tell her to take it to a man who knows about prints."

I looked at Declan.

"Padraig," I said. "He is a guard from Dublin and he has been a guard for twenty five years and he knows about prints."

"Then you have your proof," Margaret said. "The box is in the press behind the frame in the hall and the press is opened with the key that opens the frame and the key that opens the frame is the one your sister had made in 1989. And the print on the lid of the box is the print of the woman who took it out, and the woman who took it out is the woman with the silver hair, and if you can match the print to her hand you have a thing that no wolf in that village can argue with." She paused. "And there is one thing more and then I will let you go. Your sister told me a thing in April that I have not told a living soul. She said, if I do not come back, tell my sister that the woman in the grave on the hill is not my mother and is not her mother and is not anyone's mother. Tell her the woman in the grave on the hill is a woman called Deirdre who died in 1981 and who was the wife of the Beta and the mother of the Beta's son. And tell her my mother is alive and is in the north and is waiting for me."

The kitchen was very quiet.

"Margaret," I said. "My mother died in 1989. I was at the funeral. I carried the coffin."

"Then you carried a coffin with a woman in it who was not your mother," Margaret said. "I am sorry. I am an old woman and I have been sitting on this since April and I do not know how to say it kindly. Your sister told me that the woman in the grave on the hill is Deirdre and that Deirdre was the wife of Fionn the Beta and that the child she bore in 1975 was the child of Fionn and not of your father. And she told me that your mother was not in that coffin and that your mother has been in the north since 1989 and that the woman who was buried in her place was a wolf from outside the territory who died on the road and had no name."

I put the pencil down. Declan was on his feet and his face was the face of a man who had been struck.

"Fionn," he said. "My father. And Deirdre my mother. And a child born in 1975." He looked at me. "I was born in 1952. I have no brother and no sister. I have never had a brother and no one in this village has ever said I had one."

"Then someone in this village has been keeping a thing from you for twenty two years," I said, "and the woman who was found in the harbor tonight was a schoolteacher called Bridget who was banished in 1988 and who came back in March, and the Alpha told your son tonight that Bridget was his mother, and Bridget is dead with a print in her hand and a tag that says she has my mother." I stood up. "Declan. There is a thing I have to ask you and you are not going to like it. In 1975, when the vote was held and Eileen kept the seat by two votes, your father voted against her and lost the Beta's seat and went out in a boat in the spring and did not come back. And the vote was thirty one to twenty nine and three wolves did not come. One of them was Maire with the grey plait. Who were the other two?"

Declan looked at the table.

"I do not know," he said. "I was twenty three years old and I was in Galway at the time and I have never been able to find out. My father never spoke of it and Ronan would not speak of it and the cooper's records do not name them."

"Then we find out," I said. "Because if three wolves did not come to a vote in 1975 and one of them was Maire and the other two were your mother and your father, then your father did not lose the Beta's seat because he loved my mother. He lost it because he was one of the wolves who was too frightened to stand up and be counted. And the woman who was found in the harbor tonight was a schoolteacher who came back in March and who was in the hall on the night of the claim and who has been dead since one o'clock this morning with a print in her hand." I picked up the phone. "And there is a woman in this village who was in the hall in 1961 and who is not a wolf and who has been afraid for thirty six years and who is not afraid any more. Her name is Maire and she told me on the shore that the Alpha always knows."

I dialled the number of the shop. Nora answered on the second ring and her voice was frightened.

"Put Padraig on," I said.

There was a clatter and then Padraig said, "Niamh. The whole village is out on the shore road and there are two men at your gate and I have been trying to get to you for an hour."

"Padraig. There is a woman called Margaret in a cottage outside Athlone and she has a package from my sister and she is going to send it to you by the morning bus. In the package there is a ring with a name inside the band and a page from a book and a rubbing of a fingerprint that was taken off the lid of a box. I want you to take the rubbing to a man in Dublin who knows about prints and I want you to match it to the hand of the Alpha of this village. Can you do that?"

Padraig was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "I can do that. It will take two days and I will need a reason to ask a favour from the fingerprint office and I will need a print of the Alpha's hand to compare it with."

"You will have the print of her hand by morning," I said. "She has been drinking tea out of a cup in the hall for three days and the cup is still there and the hall is locked and no one has washed it. Get into the hall before Saturday morning and bring me that cup."