Red Ribbons (11 page)

What had happened to her in the hours before her death? What, other than terror, had gone through her mind? Kate was familiar with the area, it was remote and if the burial had happened at night, considering the heavy rain and cloud cover at the time, visibility would have been difficult, giving all the privacy needed. The killer had taken great care to bury his victim, and she wondered whether it was an area he, too, was familiar with. She knew the age of the girl was going to make this case more difficult than most. The death of a young victim had a habit of elevating emotions. No matter what had led the killer to this point, Kate hoped she was right in her prediction to O’Connor. Either way, Caroline’s killer had crossed a line, and was only too capable of killing again.

≈

When she turned the key in the front door, Kate was surprised that Declan and Charlie still weren’t home. She checked her phone for messages. Just one, from Declan: ‘Got delayed, we’re grabbing McDonald’s.’ She managed to smile at this. If nothing else, her preference for correct spelling in text messages had finally rubbed off on her husband. As she showered, her mind went back to the murder. What if the girl’s body had never been found? Had that been the killer’s intention? If so, why take so much care to position a corpse he didn’t want to be discovered? She thought about the close-up shots of the girl in the grave. Her hands with all her fingers interlinked, clasped together, her hair braided carefully into two plaits lying neatly on her chest. The plaited hair, just like the body, seemed to be placed in a very particular way. Everything about the girl looking tidy, arranged.

Getting dressed after her shower, she thought about something else that had been bothering her. The stud earrings Caroline had worn to
school that morning. According to O’Connor, they had been removed, yet her silver chain with the cross on it hadn’t. Why? Had the killer wanted to keep something of her, a memento of sorts? Why take the earrings and not the silver cross? Then there were the ribbons, tied in two large bows, old-fashioned as she had mentioned to O’Connor. If Caroline was unconscious from the blows, the killer had plaited her hair, and if the ribbons were left with the victim, then just like the positioning of the body, there was a reason for them looking the way they did. The more Kate thought about the images, the stronger her belief became that whoever buried Caroline Devine had demonstrated an unusual level of care and detail towards his victim. The girl herself was important, and how she lay and every detail about it meant something too, even if the killer hadn’t wanted her to be found.

There was the click of a key turning in a lock and her son’s excited voice ended her thoughts about Caroline Devine.

‘Mom, Mom, where are you?’

He burst into the room and raced over to her. She smiled the first genuine smile of the day.

‘Look, Mom,’ he beamed, holding up a miniature Gutsy Smurf toy. ‘Daddy got me a Happy Meal.’

‘I can see that.’

Declan looked tired, his face strained – a look she had become all too familiar with recently. He smiled at Charlie, then glanced at her, before turning away again. Was he purposely avoiding eye contact with her? She hadn’t meant to appear angry, but she must have done.

‘There’s no need to look like that Kate, we were both starving.’

Charlie bounced up and down on the couch, delighted with life.

‘Anyhow, I don’t smell any home cooking.’ The tone in Declan’s voice was as strained as his expression.

Why the hell, in the twenty-first century, do men still think it’s a woman’s duty to make the bloody dinner?
She knew it was a jibe at her,
just like most of their conversations seemed to be these days. But it was easier to let it go, for Charlie’s sake.

‘I know, Dec, I just got tied up with things.’

‘Nothing new there.’

She wanted to snap back at him, but there was no point. It would only end up the way all their arguments had ended up over the past six months, right back at the beginning. Ever since he missed out on that promotion, it was as if everything that went wrong was her fault. Although all the extra hours she was putting in with her new responsibilities heading up the project team hadn’t helped.

‘I was worried about you both, that’s all.’

A look of disbelief crossed his face as he picked up the remote control. ‘Well no need, we’re here now.’

She tried to make light of it. ‘I guess I’m the only one going hungry, so.’

‘I have some chips.’ Charlie shook his Happy Meal box.

‘At least someone loves me.’ Kate attempted a laugh, but when she looked across at Declan, he had already stopped listening.

‘Come on, buster, it’s late, time to get ready for bed.’

‘Ah, Mom, but—’

‘No buts, Charlie. Look, Dad’s watching his boring programme.’ Again Declan ignored her. ‘While you’re getting into your pyjamas, you can tell me all about your day, and I promise to read you the longest story.’

‘How long a story?’ He squinted his face tight.

She smiled back. ‘Really long.’

‘How long is really long?’

‘Until you’re asleep.’

‘Promise?’

‘Of course. Come on, up you get. Last one to the bathroom is a slowcoach.’

≈

When Charlie was in his pyjamas, with his face cleaned and teeth brushed, he picked up the biggest book he could find for her to read.

‘Mom, I beat Daddy running from the top of the street.’

‘Did you? I wish I’d seen that.’

‘Why didn’t you come to the cinema, Mom? Gutsy was brilliant. He’s the bravest Smurf ever.’

‘I’m sure he was brilliant – but he’s not as brilliant as you.’

‘Dad says you’re always busy.’

‘Does he now?’

‘It’s Mikey’s birthday next week. He’ll be five, and I’ll be still four. It’s not fair.’

‘You’ll be five soon enough.’ Kate looked at the size of the weighty storybook he had picked out for bedtime and smiled, pulling the covers up and giving him a big hug before getting started. No matter how tired she was, she always enjoyed their special time alone at night.

It never took Charlie long to fall asleep. After he dozed off, instead of leaving the room, Kate stayed back awhile to watch him sleep, his mouth slightly ajar as the pillow soaked up his dribbles. His jet-black hair, even darker than hers, stuck up like tiny spikes on his head. Charlie had his father’s eyes, sea-green. When he was born, they had thought his eyes would be deep blue, like Kate’s, but they’d changed. She placed her hand gently on his forehead, loving the softness of his skin. She tried to hold on to the moment, thinking only of her and Charlie, but instead her mind drifted to Caroline’s parents. What sort of nightmare must they be living through? It was too awful to contemplate something like that ever happening to her beautiful Charlie. As for her and Declan, she couldn’t help but wonder if Charlie was the only reason they were still together.

She moved Charlie’s favourite teddy in close and pulled the duvet up tighter underneath his chin. One last look, then she knew it was time to go down to the living room and be with Declan. She sighed, before switching off Charlie’s bedside lamp and walking out into the
hallway. She eased his bedroom door over, leaving a slight gap, so that he wouldn’t be in complete darkness if he woke during the night.

In the living room, Declan already looked like part of the furniture, slouched on the couch wearing one of his favourite old T-shirts and tracksuit bottoms, the television still on.

‘He’s asleep then?’

‘Yeah, out for the count.’ Still Declan didn’t look at her. It was as if she was invisible. When did they stop making an effort to look well for each other? When was the last time they had sex? Not remembering wasn’t a good sign. One of them needed to make an effort.

‘How was work, Dec?’

His expression told her it wasn’t the best choice of conversation. ‘The same as always.’

He turned back to the television screen, ramping up the volume.

≈

By midnight, Kate couldn’t stay awake any longer.

‘I’m going to bed, Dec.’

‘I’ll be there in a minute.’

Kate doubted it.

When her mobile rang, it was almost a relief. She grabbed it on the second ring, and was surprised to hear O’Connor’s voice. Even over the noise of the television, Declan raised his eyebrows at the loudness of the inspector’s voice.

‘O’Connor, calm down, what’s happened?’

‘Another Category 1, that’s what’s happened. Thirteen-year-old girl, Amelia Spain, hasn’t returned home. Her mobile was pinged by the guys at HQ, last time it was active was a call from her mother about two hours ago, when she was with friends. Turns out she has a second mobile on a separate network for her close pals. Boyfriend texted her at 8.15 p.m. We picked the signal up at the Military Road, Kate. Looks like you might have called this one wrong by a mile.’

‘But she’s still only missing, you could still find her.’

‘She isn’t up at Military Road for any good fucking reason, Kate. He’s taken her, I know it.’ There was a fury in his voice that she hadn’t heard before. O’Connor hung up the phone before she got a chance to say anything else.

For once, she was pleased Declan kept his silence. She needed to think. Her professional pride was hurt. Damn O’Connor for hanging up on her. Egotistical shit – but what if he was right? What if she had called this one wrong? She walked into the kitchen, automatically flicking on the kettle, even though she had no intention of using it.

Picking up her mobile, she rang O’Connor back. She expected it to go to his voicemail and was surprised when he answered.

‘O’Connor, if it turns out bad and you do find Amelia Spain up there, I know why he moved quickly.’

He held his silence. She heard him sighing, then speaking. ‘Kate, you better have something good to tell me.’

‘He’d already groomed her, maybe even disregarded her.’ Another silence. Kate continued. ‘For whatever reason he moved on, but the finding of Caroline’s body must have spooked him. If I’m right, Amelia may turn out to be the one who got away who became a complication he needed to get rid of.’

‘Jesus Christ, Kate, we’re talking serial killer territory here.’

‘And I want to be part of finding him.’

Declan entered the kitchen, catching her last words, muttering under his breath, ‘Saint Kate, wants to save the world.’ His sarcasm was not lost on her, but O’Connor was her focus now.

‘Kate, you know what the force feels about using outsiders. And you’ve fucked up on this already, don’t forget.’

She wanted to scream at him but instead she held back, although the angry tone in her voice was undeniable. ‘I don’t give a damn, O’Connor, officially or unofficially I can help you. I want to be involved.’

WHEN DARKNESS COMES, I FIND SOME PEACE LISTENING to the sounds of the familiar – the creaking of beds in the other rooms, the rattling gutter that has needed to be repaired since the storms last winter. Even the sound of my own breath as my face burrows into the pillow has become a form of practised regularity. How long have I felt security in predictability?

When the lights outside the door go out, I know I will suffer a long night. Since meeting Dr Ebbs earlier, my mind has been rattled – but I had felt rattled even before I saw him. Maybe it is yet another aspect to my life of nothingness, how I can sense even the slightest shifts in mood. I did well enough today, shielding it from the others, those lonely women who share my time in here. Some of my fellow patrons have come and gone a long time back, some more like visitors to a mad house than anything else. I guess for them, those who stay only a short while, their real place in life is outside of here. Others, like me, have been here so long we have drifted into the soul of this Godforsaken place. In here, you get used to sharing your thoughts with just yourself. It feeds into the madness of it all.

I haven’t decided if I am going to write anything. In fact, the very thought of it sends chills through me, as if someone has opened a door and a gale is blowing through it. It bashes the door of memory back and forth, and the very thought of it causes a banging inside my head. What does he mean by ‘the beginning’? Beginning of what? Of when I started to feel crazy or of when I stopped caring?

I think back to the affair, as if it might provide a beginning of sorts. It was so long ago – can I really remember it as it was then?

He was different to Joe, that was for sure. Even though they were brothers, they had nothing in common, either with each other or how they were with me. When Joe looked at me, it was almost as if he was apologising for being there – but Andrew wasn’t like that. He looked me straight in the eye, as if no one else existed. When I think about it now, a part of me wonders if he was the only man I’ve ever loved. Afterwards, just like the others, he didn’t believe me. I held no grudge. Afterwards, I held nothing.

My pregnancy had not been planned; it wasn’t something I had even thought about. In the beginning, I wasn’t even going to tell Joe. It happened at the end of my first year at college, and it certainly wasn’t the news my mother had expected.

Going to college was something that hadn’t been within her reach. She was so proud of me. As things turned out, her dying before Amy’s death was a blessing. At least she didn’t have to face that final heartbreak. If my father had been alive, things might have been different. He was always the one I was closest to and he taught me everything, from how to fish to how to fire his hunting gun. I remember my mother being cross when I told her about the gun. I couldn’t have been more than eleven when I shot at my first hare. Funny the things you remember years after.

Joe had wanted to marry me when he heard about the baby. And what had I wanted? I look back at that young woman and I see a head filled with silly notions. I took the easy choice I guess, there’s a laugh. Ignorance, I’ve learned, fashions its own crosses.

At the beginning, the pregnancy made me feel trapped, I remember that. Up until then everything had been fine with Joe. Expecting a baby changed the agenda completely. If anything, I felt like a mouse caught in a maze that had no exits, only dead ends. Of course, it wasn’t as if I had to marry him. My mother would have understood; I know
that now. But it was never about her understanding. It was about disappointment, about feeling that I had let her down.