Ripped (124 page)

Through
the
glass,
Murray
saw
him
staring
straight
ahead.
'Kujavia
was
found
dead
last
night,'
Peerse
said.
'That's
why they
left
you
alone.
Mary
O'Bannion
was
found
lying
beside
him. Would
you
like
to
offer
a
theory
for
that?'

'They
quarrelled
about
something.
Did
he
use
that
bar
of
his
on
her?
It's
surprising
he
hasn't
killed
her
with
it
before.
I
don't
know
how
she
got
him.'

'Did
I
say
she
was
dead?
You're
right
though,
and
about
the
iron
bar.
Only
while
all
this
was
going
on,
she
managed
to
stab
him.
They
found
the
knife
in
her
hand.
It
was
quite
a
special
knife
apparently
–
and
so
they've
decided
she
was
Jill.'

'Mary
O'Bannion?'
Murray
was
so
genuinely
astonished,
that
he
could
not
hide
his
incredulity
at
the
idea.

'The
psychologists
will
explain
it
all
to
us,'
Peerse
said.
'She was
taking
revenge
for
a
lifetime
of
being
abused.
They're
not
much
help
while
you're
looking –
but
if
you
can
give
them
a
name,
they'll
fit
an
explanation
to
it
for
you.'

'None
of
that
sounds
like
proof.'

'Oh,
proof,'
Peerse
echoed
ironically.
'You
don't
understand
.
It
doesn't
take
a
lot
of
evidence
to
convict
a
dead
woman
.
There
isn't
going
to
be
a
trial.
Not
that
they
won't
be
cautious,
nobody's
going
to
say
anything
for
the
record.
Not
just
now.
They'll
wait
and
see,
let
time
pass –
if
there
aren't
any
more
Jill
killings,
that's
all
the
proof
they'll
need.
Sometime
during
the
night,
McKellar
decided
to
see
it
that
way;
after
that
they
all
did
.
Shanks
and
his
crowd
got
to
read
between
the
lines
this
morning.
Nothing
official.
But
from
now
on,
everything
runs
down.'

'Unless
there's
another
killing.'

Peerse
shook
his
head.
'I'm
an
exceptional
man
in
a
profession
that
values
mediocrity,'
he
said,
without
any
particular
emphasis,
'but
I
don't
wish
that.
I
should,
believing
in
justice
.
Maybe
I've
been
pretending
not
to
be
different
for
too
long
–
with
just
enough
showing
to
make
myself
distrusted
and
do
the
damage
anyway.
Maybe
I'm
not
exceptional
anymore.'
He
contemplated
that
possibility.
'I
think
it's
possible
the
killings
might
have
stopped
–
if
so,
we'll
never
know
why.
But
McKellar
will
close
the
file.
That
fat
clumsy
whore
will
have
killed
them
all.
Did
you
ever
see
her
walk?
She
wore
slippers
all
the
time,
but
she
got
rid
of
the
bodies
in
back
alleys
in
Moirhill.
It's
wonderful
what
a
fat
cripple
can
do.
So
it's
probably
over.'
He
stood,
impossibly
tall,
and
asked,
'Are
you
sure
there
isn't
something
you
want
to
tell
me?'

'Not
if
it's
solved,'
Murray
said.

Peerse
nodded
abruptly
and
got
into
the
car.
He
had
to
duck
his
head
because
he
sat
up
so
straight.

As
Billy
Shanks
drove
back
into
town,
Murray
stared
out
at
the mean
shop
fronts
of
Moirhill
Road
flawing
past
and
wondered
where
Irene
might
have
gone.
Had
she
gone
home,
back
to
the
house
she
had
shared
with
Malcolm?
He
had
to
see
her.

'That
was
a
long
talk
Ian
Peerse
had
with
you,'
Billy
said,
jerking
the
car
to
a
stop
at
a
red
light.
'Yes.'
He
whistled
tunelessly,
leaning
forward
over
the
wheel
to
watch
for
the
lights
to
change.
'It
wasn't
like
Peerse
somehow
.
..
Yes.
He
seemed
to
be
doing
most
of
the
talking
.
That's
not
like
him.
Not
like
him,
eh?'
He
smacked
into
gear
and
wrenched
the
car
forward.
'He's
an
arrogant
bastard,
but
I
could
see
he
wasn't
happy
this
morning.
Not
with
any
of
it.
What
did
you
think?'

'I
think,'
Murray
said,
'that
I
prefer
Peerse
arrogant.'
But
it
was more
than
that.

What
would
he
find
to
say
to
Billy,
if
he
was
able,
if
he
could make
himself
be
different?

-
I thought that Peerse was the hunter who would not get tired. Without knowing it, not until now, he was the one I had put my faith in: so that whatever I decided or did, in the end he would make it be right. I knew, you see, he believed in justice, Billy – like me – only I didn't expect him to get tired. I thought he was an exceptional man.

'It's
always
just
the
one
way
with
you,
Murray,'
Billy
said.
'But
if
you
want
to
get
information,
you
have
to
give
a
little.
That's
something
I've
learned.'
He
concentrated
on
joining
the
traffic
coming
off
the
bridge;
grey
concrete
legs
of
the
flyover
flicked
past.
A
lorry
laden
with
gaping
pipes
hung
over
them.
They
ran
into
a
tunnel
and
out
again.
'Eddy
wouldn't
come.
I
don't
know
what's
happened
between
you
two,
but
he
sounded
as
if
he
hated
your
guts.
I'm
sorry.'