Darkhouse (21 page)

Richie stood by a black station wagon, scribbling a parking ticket. He folded it and slipped it under the windscreen wiper. Shaun walked out of the coffee shop and rolled his eyes.

‘I wouldn’t mind a quick word,’ said Richie, jogging up behind him. ‘I just want to clear something up.’ He stopped and took out his notebook, tilting it to avoid the misty rain that had started to fall.

‘Sure,’ said Shaun. ‘But I’m on my way back to school.’ He pulled up the hood on his parka, casting a shadow over his eyes.

‘Just remind me again,’ said Richie. ‘Where exactly did you say goodbye to Katie?’

Shaun took a breath. ‘Over there, I guess, by the wall down to the harbour.’

‘Did you hear the singing?’ asked Richie.

Shaun froze. ‘What?’

‘You said you were down by the dry dock before then.’

‘Yes.’

‘So was a Spanish boat with twenty drunk sailors singing at the top of their lungs.’

Shaun said nothing.

‘So where did you go when you left Katie’s house? It doesn’t look like you were at the harbour.’

Shaun’s heart pounded. Cold sweat trickled down his side.

‘We were at the harbour, but earlier…’

The owner of the station wagon came out of Tynan’s and threw his hands up in the air.

‘Ah, for Christ’s sake, guard. I was two minutes. Look – a newspaper! How long do you think that took? I’ve just come down from Dublin for a couple of days—’

Richie shrugged and turned away.

One of the old barflies was walking past and leaned into the Dublin man. ‘He won’t listen to you, you know. “Double yellows” he’ll tell you. And he’ll point at them. He’s a bollox.’

Richie ignored the muttering behind him and stared at Shaun.

‘Then we went to…for a walk,’ said Shaun.

‘Now you’re talking shite to me, Shaun. Where were you really?’

‘I told you. For a walk.’

‘Leave the young lad alone,’ shouted the barfly as he disappeared into Danaher’s. ‘Y’bollox,’ he muttered.

‘Where did you go for a walk?’ said Richie.

‘Up through the village and—’

‘Out of town, then all the way back here out of the way of her house to say goodbye?’

‘No.’

‘Through the village where? Up to your house, then back here out of the way to say goodbye?’

Shaun couldn’t stand still.

‘Was something wrong, Shaun? You can tell me. Did you have a fight?’

‘No. Everything was fine. I’ve said all this before.’

‘So you didn’t have a row or anything.’

‘No,’ said Shaun.

Richie started writing. ‘She wasn’t upset.’

‘No,’ said Shaun.

‘She wasn’t crying. She didn’t tell anyone she had a fight with you a few minutes before she disappeared.’

‘No.’ His voice caught.

‘You’d swear to that.’

‘I…don’t know.’

Richie kept writing, then closed the notebook and nodded. ‘Cheers,’ he said.

Frank was standing in front of the bulletin board at the station checking the notices were still in
date. He pulled out tacks and repositioned posters, throwing the old ones in the bin. He didn’t hear Joe come in.

‘Sorry to bother you, but there’s something I think you need to know. It might have a bearing on your investigation.’

‘What is it?’ said Frank.

‘About a year ago, I killed someone,’ said Joe. ‘On the job. A guy called Donald Riggs. He kidnapped an eight-year-old girl, collected the ransom, then blew her and her mother to pieces. I saw it all. I shot Riggs and he was lying on the ground, dead. I walked over to him and he had a pin in the shape of a hawk in his hand. That same pin is in an evidence bag somewhere in One Police Plaza in New York. So why did I find one outside Danaher’s on Sunday?’ He held out his palm.

Frank looked at the pin, then looked at Joe.

‘I don’t know,’ he said.

‘I think someone is after me and my family,’ said Joe. ‘The man’s name, I think, is Duke Rawlins.’

‘That could be any old pin and—’

‘It’s not any old pin,’ said Joe. ‘It’s specific to an event,’ he could barely say it, ‘that happened back in the eighties when…look, I know it sounds nuts, I don’t know who this guy is, but he’s—’

‘You’ve been through an awful lot,’ said Frank.

‘What?’ said Joe.

‘You’re under a lot of pressure.’

‘Of course I’m under a lot of pressure,’ said Joe. ‘But that’s got nothing to do with this. I think he’s come to Ireland.’

‘Have you seen him?’

‘No,’ said Joe. ‘But there’s no other explanation for that pin being there. No-one here would know about it and no-one attached any significance to it at the time of the crime. It was just another personal effect of a dead perp. The only reason it means anything to
me
is the fact that it was the first thing I saw in the hand of the first – and hopefully the last – man I ever killed.’

‘There’s not a lot I can do with that information,’ said Frank.

‘It could be related to Katie in some way. He could have gone after—’

‘We have no way of finding out if he’s here.’

‘What? Immigration! At the airport!’

‘Joe, it doesn’t work that way. If he’s a criminal, he’s not going to come here with an official work permit. And if someone travels here on a short holiday visa, we don’t take a record.’ He shrugged his shoulders. ‘They can pretty much do what they like.’

Shaun walked in to the empty computer room at St Declan’s and sat down at a PC. He clicked on Mail and typed in his password. There was one
message in his inbox. The subject was blank and the sender was a string of letters that made no sense. He opened the message and a photo appeared. It was the lighthouse. Flames burned on the grass in front of it. It was from his mother’s shoot. He jerked the mouse across the mat, clicked the file closed, then grabbed his bag from the floor beside him. He was still furious when he got home.

‘I really think it’s sick the way you all can get on with your lives,’ he shouted at Anna as he walked in.

‘I’m not getting into this with you again,’ said Anna. ‘I’m tired and yes, I have to work. There is nothing I can do about that. I know you’re going through a tough time—’

‘So why are you rubbing my face in it?’

‘I’m not rubbing your face in it,’ she said. She turned around and saw his expression. ‘How am I doing that?’

‘Your email.’

‘What email?’

‘Of the fucking shoot!’

‘What is wrong with you? I will not have you using language like that to me, whatever has happened. Have some respect. What email are you talking about?’

‘The email I got today. From you.’

Joe came into the kitchen and put the portable phone down on the counter.

‘That was Frank Deegan,’ he said, furious. ‘Shaun, were you talking to Richie Bates today?’

‘Yeah. Why?’ said Shaun.

‘Richie said you denied having an argument with Katie before she disappeared. But they have a witness who says you did.’

‘What are you talking about?’ said Shaun.

‘I’m just telling you what I heard. Richie said he spoke to you in the village earlier.’

‘He did, but I never said—’

‘Apparently, you denied, under caution, having an argument with Katie. He thinks you lied and he has it all written down in his notebook.’

‘What does “under caution” mean? Like “anything you say or do can be held against you”?’

‘Something like that.’

‘Well, then he didn’t caution me. I swear to God, Dad. I don’t get this. We were just talking.’

‘Jesus Christ, I’m gonna look like an idiot—’

‘Why?’ said Shaun.

‘Nothing. Come on, you and me are gonna have to go down to the station now to talk to them, clear up a few of these things. I’d like to know myself, Shaun, what the hell is going on.’

Ray walked backwards out of his apartment, pulling a black bag with him. He hauled it over his shoulder and walked to the metal bins lined up on the road at the end of the cul de sac. He flung the bag across the top and it landed with a
stink onto the others. It was then he saw the tear across it.

‘For fuck’s sake, Ray,’ said Richie striding up behind him.

Ray turned around.

‘Look,’ said Richie, pointing to the mess Ray had left along the road from his house.

‘Well done, Garda Richie,’ said Ray. ‘You have successfully followed a trail. They’ll make you a sergeant yet.’

‘Shut your face, Carmody. And clean that up.’

‘Why are you so interested in what comes out of my sack?’ Ray smirked.

Richie grabbed Ray’s arm between his thumb and middle finger and squeezed hard.

‘Ow,’ said Ray. ‘You wanker.’ He couldn’t pull his arm free.

‘If I come home to this shit tonight,’ said Richie, looking back at the rubbish, ‘I swear to fuck, I’ll shove it in your letterbox.’ He released his grip.

‘I get it now,’ said Ray. ‘Cleaning up the streets of Mountcannon.’

‘Do you even own your apartment?’ said Richie.

‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’ said Ray.

‘Do you own it?’

‘I’m renting. But what’s that got to do with you? Just because you and your boyfriend clubbed together and bought a little love nest.’

‘I own the place. Oran rents from me.’

‘Why are we having this conversation? Is it because you’re a woman?’

Richie shoved Ray’s shoulder.

‘Whoa, keeper of the peace,’ said Ray. ‘You’re in uniform now. What will the neighbours say?’

Richie looked around at the empty streets.

‘Fucking watch yourself,’ he said, shoving his face into Ray’s.

‘I do. And I like what I see,’ said Ray. ‘I could watch myself all day.’

Shaun was slumped in a chair at the station, his long legs stretched away from the desk. He hadn’t said a word apart from a muttered hello to Frank.

‘We just have to wait for Richie,’ said Frank. After five minutes, Richie walked in, red-faced and sweaty. Frank stared at him, then turned to Shaun.

‘Just tell us where you were that night,’ asked Frank. ‘Please. This has gone on too long.’

Joe sat by Shaun’s side, looking around the room, focusing in the silence on the bulletin board mounted on the pale cream wall. A bad colour photocopy was pinned in the corner with a girl’s face framed at the centre. Her eyes were small under thick eyebrows, her hair a mass of black frizz. Her pudgy cheeks pushed against the edges of the shot. MISSING was printed above her. Siobhán Fallon. Last seen in American Heroes,
Tipperary town on Friday, September 7th. Joe had never heard anything about her. One missing person can capture the media’s attention, while another, less attractive victim, went no further than a homemade poster on a station wall.

‘Seascapes,’ said Shaun, suddenly.

Joe spun around. ‘I goddamn knew it.’

‘Seascapes. Holiday homes?’ said Frank, ignoring him.

‘Yes.’

Joe was shaking his head.

‘What time was that?’ asked Frank.

‘Seven-thirty.’

‘And what were you doing there? Working?’

‘No,’ said Shaun. He glanced at his father. ‘Me and Katie…we went there to be alone.’

‘Why did you need to be alone?’ asked Frank.

Shaun flushed. ‘We were…’

Joe held his breath.

‘What?’ asked Frank.

‘We went there to have sex.’

Joe exhaled and closed his eyes.

‘Did Katie know that’s why you were there?’ said Frank.

‘What?’

‘Is this something Katie expected to happen?’

‘Yes, she did,’ he said.

‘And did it happen?’ asked Frank.

‘Kind of. I don’t know,’ he said.

‘How do you not know? Did you or didn’t you?’

‘She was, you know, it was her first time. She was nervous.’ He began to cry. The questions got more personal, almost medical. Every answer was dragged out of him. Then it was Richie’s turn.

‘So, basically, nothing was happening, she was too tense and this pissed you off?’

‘No,’ said Shaun. ‘That wasn’t the way it was. It did happen, but then it hurt so we stopped.’

‘And you got angry because this wasn’t all going the way it was supposed to!’

‘No.’

‘She didn’t give up the goods, so you lost it.’

‘No!’

‘Maybe she didn’t even know why she was there at all. Maybe this was all a big surprise to her. You’d get her a bit drunk, then in you go.’

‘You asshole!’ said Shaun. Then he couldn’t stop. ‘You fucking asshole. I loved Katie. This is all bullshit.’ He cried harder, his mouth quivering. ‘You,’ he said, pointing at Richie, ‘have no clue what happened, you weren’t there. I put my arms around her and told her not to worry, that she could call it off any time she wanted. You don’t know anything about me and Katie! Why am I even telling you this stuff?’

‘You called me and asked us to come in here for an informal chat, Frank, not abuse,’ said Joe. His face ached with every word he had to get out. He propped his elbow on the desk and leaned his head against his hand. He looked up. ‘We’re
helping you out here. If you had anything more on Shaun, he would be arrested by now. But you don’t. Apart from his alleged denial of having an argument while under alleged caution.’ Richie’s eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to reply, but Frank was quick to put a steadying hand on his arm.

‘So is it true that after this you had an argument?’ said Frank gently.

‘Yes,’ said Shaun, wiping away his tears.

‘Why didn’t you tell anyone this earlier?’

‘Because I thought she was going to come back,’ he sobbed. ‘I thought she was trying to freak me out. I didn’t want to let everyone know what had happened. Her mother would have killed her.’ When he heard what he said, he started to sob harder. Everyone waited until he had calmed down.

‘What was the argument about?’ asked Frank.

‘It was stupid,’ said Shaun. ‘She asked me had this happened to me before, with anyone back home and I asked her did she want me to be honest. And she said yes, so I told her it had never happened to me, that before when I had been with someone, everything had worked out OK, but that I didn’t mind that it didn’t happen properly for us.’ Richie sucked in a breath. Shaun ignored him and kept talking in desperate bursts.

‘I thought she knew it wasn’t my first time, but she had presumed it was. I don’t know why she
asked me what she did, but I guess she was feeling bad and, I don’t know. Anyway, she got upset that I hadn’t told her I had done it before. And I tried to reassure her that it didn’t matter what had happened before, which it didn’t, but she was too upset. She said some things and then she stormed off. I ran after her, but she pushed me away.’