After sitting in the car at the cemetery for a couple of hours Sara went looking the home of John Patrick's mother. When she knocked on the door she was greeted by the woman from the picture in John's guitar. She was matronly and in her mid-fifties. She seemed tired, tired of the way fate was treating her family. Her eyes however were particularly sharp, not much got past her.
"Hello, Mrs. Dougherty, I'm Detective Sara Pezzini of the New York Police Department. I came to answer any questions you may have about John Patrick's death."
Mrs. Dougherty looked at Sara curiously. "Come in. Call me Niamh. Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Yes, thank you. Please call me Sara."
Niamh led Sara into the kitchen. There was flour on the table and some dough sitting in a bowl near the stove to rise. "Sorry about the mess." Niamh fussed around the kitchen putting on a kettle of water on to heat.
Then she walked to the table and wrote an address, date, and time in the flour on the table. She waited for Sara to read it before she got a rag from the sink and cleaned the table off.
Sara was still standing - a little shocked. Of course, Niamh's other son, Edward, was involved in the IRA. She was probably practiced at evading surveillance. Sara resolved to have a talk with Danny when she was alone. What had she gotten into?
"Please sit here Sara." Niamh pointed to a chair and poured hot water into a waiting teapot which she brought to the table. She got two cups from the cupboard.
"You knew John," she said when she sat down, statement not question.
"Yes I met him a couple of weeks before he died. He was kidnapped from my apartment while I was at work. I tried to ransom him and it turned into a gunfight. John was killed by one of the kidnappers, who were later identified as counter-terrorists working for the Belfast P.D. I was with him when he died."
Niamh poured the tea as Sara spoke. Now she stated the obvious. "You loved him."
"Yes."
"It gives me some comfort that someone he loved was with him."
"Mighty small comfort."
"John isn't the first son I've lost. A parent prays that all her children will outlive her. Now I only ask that they die in the arms of someone they love."
"Someone he loved? How do you know he loved me?" This conversation was not going as she expected.
"He had been looking for you since he was sixteen. We didn't understand at first but he didn't stop so after a few years we realized that he was on a quest. That's why he went to America."
"What?"
"He chose to sing because he could meet and be seen by far more people than if he stayed at home and worked in a trade."
"What do you mean by 'looking since he was sixteen'?"
"In November of the year that he turned sixteen he went into a coma. Naught could be done. The doctors could find nothing to treat. So we brought him home from hospital and I cared for him like a babe. Then after 11 days he woke up. He was changed, as if he had lived more than one lifetime."
"At first when he tried to talk about his experience he didn't make any sense. He became tremendously frustrated and stopped talking about it. But after a few months he told me he was looking for his fated love. He was much too serious to be talked out of it. He told me but not his brothers or father, God rest his soul."
Niamh continued, "Before the coma he had no interest in music, but afterward he discovered his voice and picked up musical instruments easily. He played in a few bands and then started one of his own. They specialized in taking old airs and making them new."
"So he started to get popular?"
"He achieved a bit of fame but didn't travel as much as he wanted. Not until he was contacted by an agent in New York. We don't know how he came to be known there."
Sara noticed that the Witchblade had responded to Niamh's words, another question for Danny.
"So that's when he went to New York?" Sara asked, sipping tea.
"Yes. He seemed to be doing well there. He was happy because he felt fate had stepped in to bring him closer to you."
"Hello, Mrs. Dougherty, I'm Detective Sara Pezzini of the New York Police Department. I came to answer any questions you may have about John Patrick's death."
Mrs. Dougherty looked at Sara curiously. "Come in. Call me Niamh. Would you like a cup of tea?"
"Yes, thank you. Please call me Sara."
Niamh led Sara into the kitchen. There was flour on the table and some dough sitting in a bowl near the stove to rise. "Sorry about the mess." Niamh fussed around the kitchen putting on a kettle of water on to heat.
Then she walked to the table and wrote an address, date, and time in the flour on the table. She waited for Sara to read it before she got a rag from the sink and cleaned the table off.
Sara was still standing - a little shocked. Of course, Niamh's other son, Edward, was involved in the IRA. She was probably practiced at evading surveillance. Sara resolved to have a talk with Danny when she was alone. What had she gotten into?
"Please sit here Sara." Niamh pointed to a chair and poured hot water into a waiting teapot which she brought to the table. She got two cups from the cupboard.
"You knew John," she said when she sat down, statement not question.
"Yes I met him a couple of weeks before he died. He was kidnapped from my apartment while I was at work. I tried to ransom him and it turned into a gunfight. John was killed by one of the kidnappers, who were later identified as counter-terrorists working for the Belfast P.D. I was with him when he died."
Niamh poured the tea as Sara spoke. Now she stated the obvious. "You loved him."
"Yes."
"It gives me some comfort that someone he loved was with him."
"Mighty small comfort."
"John isn't the first son I've lost. A parent prays that all her children will outlive her. Now I only ask that they die in the arms of someone they love."
"Someone he loved? How do you know he loved me?" This conversation was not going as she expected.
"He had been looking for you since he was sixteen. We didn't understand at first but he didn't stop so after a few years we realized that he was on a quest. That's why he went to America."
"What?"
"He chose to sing because he could meet and be seen by far more people than if he stayed at home and worked in a trade."
"What do you mean by 'looking since he was sixteen'?"
"In November of the year that he turned sixteen he went into a coma. Naught could be done. The doctors could find nothing to treat. So we brought him home from hospital and I cared for him like a babe. Then after 11 days he woke up. He was changed, as if he had lived more than one lifetime."
"At first when he tried to talk about his experience he didn't make any sense. He became tremendously frustrated and stopped talking about it. But after a few months he told me he was looking for his fated love. He was much too serious to be talked out of it. He told me but not his brothers or father, God rest his soul."
Niamh continued, "Before the coma he had no interest in music, but afterward he discovered his voice and picked up musical instruments easily. He played in a few bands and then started one of his own. They specialized in taking old airs and making them new."
"So he started to get popular?"
"He achieved a bit of fame but didn't travel as much as he wanted. Not until he was contacted by an agent in New York. We don't know how he came to be known there."
Sara noticed that the Witchblade had responded to Niamh's words, another question for Danny.
"So that's when he went to New York?" Sara asked, sipping tea.
"Yes. He seemed to be doing well there. He was happy because he felt fate had stepped in to bring him closer to you."