1 John 1:8
Thursday 22nd November: Trish Hartnett's day job was well paid. She worked at interior design, by and large in the non-residential field, though she sometimes took on private commissions. Trish was at home. Trish was often at home these days. She worked in a partnership with two others and had handed across almost all her clients. It wasn't merely that she felt under pressure. It was because the word was out that she was a suspect in the Bob Young murder case and she didn't like the interested looks. She didn't like being the subject of curiosity.
More importantly, she was home because it was Thanksgiving. This was the earliest the feast could fall in the calendar month and it was a warm day with an Indian summer feel about it. She and Sean had been invited to upstate New York where her retired parents maintained their home. She'd declined. Too many explanations. She just wanted to be with Sean. They could have gone to spend Thanksgiving with Sean's sister, but it'd have been awkward given the circumstances and they'd politely declined. So Trish had decided to cook a New England style, salt-encrusted turkey and she'd been preparing the bird. She'd have made pumpkin pie like her mother used to but Sean didn't go for pumpkin pie much and this Thanksgiving was going to be all about Sean. She knew he was trying to make a new start and it mattered.
So she was in the house when Detective Muse and Officer Donna White came calling. She wanted to say, "Haven't you got anything better to do on Thanksgiving?" but she stopped herself.
"You'd better come in."
They did.
Trish decided to make the best of it. "You want coffee?"
Donna declined. "We need to ask you a few questions Mrs Hartnett. Is that OK?"
"Do I have a choice?"
"No. I am sorry. We need to talk to you."
Trish shrugged. She noticed Muse hadn't said anything so she ignored him. "OK, Donna, go ahead."
Donna White only hesitated for a moment. "What reason would you have to dislike Father Sebastian?"
Trish was bewildered and said so. "I thought you were investigating the death of Bob Young?"
"We are. Just answer the question please." This from Detective Muse.
Trish acknowledged his presence with a nod, then turned back to Donna. "I have no reason to dislike Father Seb. Quite the contrary."
"You were very close to Mary Young, weren't you?"
"Mary and I were close friends, yes."
"Very close?"
"Yes."
"Do you blame Father Seb for her death?"
"Heavens no, Donna. Of course not."
"Someone does."
"Well I don't."
Donna didn't miss a beat as she switched her line of questioning. "Did you resent Father Sebastian's affair with Angie Merill?"
"What?" Trish Hartnett gave every impression of being surprised.
"You can't pretend you didn't know of it, Mrs Hartnett." Donna didn't wait for an answer. "Have you been having an affair with Angie's husband, Baxter Merill?"
Trish Hartnett's features paled as the blood drained from her face. She had been standing but now she sat. She said nothing.
Donna waited. Then, in the absence of an answer, she continued. "Did you attempt to kill Father Sebastian out of some misguided sense of loyalty to your lover, Baxter Merill? Or was your attack premised on your loyalty to Mary Young? Did you think that Father Sebastian caused her death in some way?"
At last Trish Hartnett looked up. "Mary's death had nothing to do with Father Sebastian."
"What did it have to do with Mrs Hartnett?"
But Trish Hartnett shook her head. Tears were welling behind her green-grey eyes.
Detective Muse interrupted, "You'd better answer Mrs Hartnett. We already have good cause to suspect you of the murder of Mr Young. We now have reason to suspect that you may have been Father Sebastian's assailant."
Trish shook her head again, saying nothing. A single tear ran down her cheek.
Dona knew the way this thing might go, should Trish fail to cooperate fully. "Please Mrs Hartnett. You are in a great deal of trouble. You must tell us whatever you know."
Trish shook her head then bit her lower lip and raised her eyes to stare directly at Detective Muse. "I have nothing more to say."
Muse raised his right hand and combed it through his thinning black hair, wrinkling his forehead at the same time, as if the action enabled him to think more clearly. "Very well Mrs Hartnett. You leave us no alternative."
It was Donna who interrupted this time. "Please Mrs Hartnett. This doesn't have to happen."
Muse waited, partly in deference to his colleague but partly because he himself was uncomfortable with what they had decided to do. But Trish remained impassive. At last Muse spoke, his voice labored and weary.
"Very well Mrs Hartnett. you leave us little alternative but to arrest you on suspicion of the murder of Robert Young and the attempted murder of Father Sebastian. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you. Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?. . . "
And as they read her her Miranda rights, Trish Hartnett felt a greater sense of calm than she had felt in weeks. A burden had been lifted from her shoulders.
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