Authors: Louise Phillips
Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Suspense, #Crime Fiction, #Thrillers
If I am to write, what will I write about? Will I write about how I got here? How Ellie Thompson became the shadowy figure that I am today. Could this draw a line under all that has happened, something that I have failed to do for the past fifteen years? We are all products of our past I suppose; none of us is born the person we ultimately become. I have long since stopped feeling shame about the affair – though it was not because of shame that I denied myself absolution. If it was just that, some lover’s cruel recall, I would not be haunted as I am haunted now.
KATE HAD NO IDEA WHAT TO EXPECT WHEN THEY turned into the narrow street where Innes lived. O’Connor stopped the car slowly, pulling in like someone who knew he wasn’t going to be welcome and with no desire to warn anyone of his arrival.
Terraced houses crept along on both sides of the road. In some ways, they reminded Kate of the house on Landscape Avenue where she grew up, although they were a lot smaller. There, too, the houses followed each other in orderly fashion, regardless of whatever notions the owners held about individuality. But whatever similarities existed between the two streets, one difference was quite apparent: Landscape Avenue was upper-middle class; this place most certainly was not. The discreet movement of curtains in each of the windows they passed didn’t do anything to settle her, although O’Connor, if he noticed them, didn’t comment. His mind was focused on Charles Innes.
The front door of the house had glass panels on either side at the top half. Kate could see the dark shape walking from the back of the house to the front, and braced herself for the encounter.
Maybe Innes had expected someone friendly, but the original smile that greeted them when he opened the door vanished quickly, replaced by one of utter disdain. He may not have met O’Connor before, but Innes knew he was a copper even before he opened his mouth and asked to have a chat with him.
‘I don’t have time for chats. Now bugger off while I’m still being polite.’
‘Your car went through a checkpoint near Rathmines canal yesterday, and a couple of days before that.’
‘Is it a crime to drive? Last I heard we live in a free country.’
‘Suppose you’ve heard about the murder of Caroline Devine?’ O’Connor moved in closer to him, but Innes wasn’t shifting.
If she had to guess an age, Kate would have put him in his late forties, small, overweight and balding. He wore pyjama bottoms with navy stripes and a white sleeveless vest that had seen better days and was nearly as grimy looking as what was left of his thinning fair hair. She didn’t know what Innes worked at, but his tanned arms to below his armpits and rugged face told her he wasn’t the kind of man who sat in an office.
‘I’ve got nothing to do with it, so get the hell out of here.’
O’Connor eyed him coolly, but Kate could sense the tension in his body as he tried to keep his feelings in check. ‘Listen, Innes, we can keep shooting the breeze out here on the doorstep or go inside. I don’t much care either way, but maybe your neighbours might get a little jittery if we continue the party out here and I have to send a couple of squad cars around.’
Innes looked at O’Connor sulkily, but Kate could see him weighing up what had been said. ‘You have a warrant?’
‘I’m not looking to search the place, just talk. But I’d have no problem getting one if you want. Mind you, it’d be easier to drag your fat arse in for questioning, so why don’t you just invite us in, like nice civilised folks.’
Innes stood back to allow both of them to pass. ‘Kitchen’s straight ahead,’ he said off-handedly.
O’Connor allowed Kate walk in through the narrow doorway ahead of him. Innes smiled at her as she passed. Once inside, she took in the various rooms – the whole place looked like someone had just done it over. In the kitchen, dishes were piled high in the sink, the bin stank to high heaven and there were bits of rubbish on every surface
– empty drinks cans, cardboard takeaway packaging, newspapers, and the remains of, most likely, this morning’s breakfast, a plate with hardened egg yoke and the remains of a burned sausage.
‘The cleaning lady not working today?’ O’Connor asked sarcastically.
Innes shot him a dark look, then knocked some clothes off a kitchen chair, and newspapers off the next, indicating they should both sit down. Kate was fascinated to see that once they were in his house, his manner changed markedly, switching from open hostility to a tone that approached friendliness.
‘Cup of tea anyone?’ he offered.
‘Not for me,’ snapped O’Connor.
‘No thank you,’ Kate followed.
‘I see the lady has manners.’
‘Listen, you little shit, I don’t have time to play tea parties with you. Tell me why you were in Rathmines, and what you were doing three days ago, at four o’clock in the afternoon.’
‘Suit yourself,’ Innes replied, smirking at them. ‘For your information, Detective, I needed to pass that area for work, and as for three days ago? Hmm, well, let me see, that would be Wednesday. Oh yes, I remember now. I was visiting an old friend at the Welfare Office, Jimmy Deavy, lovely man, has a nice warm heart, does his best for people down on their luck.’
‘Down on your luck, are you?’ O’Connor didn’t even try to hide his disgust.
‘We can’t all have fat salaries, you know. Times are tough. You lot have no idea what it’s like for ordinary folk to try and make ends meet.’
‘My heart bleeds for you.’
Recognising that O’Connor’s tactics weren’t getting a whole lot of information out of Innes, Kate decided to weigh in.
‘Mr Innes, a young girl has been murdered. If you were in the area, you might have seen something?’
When he smiled at her again, it took a lot for her to return the compliment. She had a sick feeling about him, even without knowing his back story. Everything about him felt rotten, and she had to suppress the memories that were threatening to surface whenever he looked directly at her.
‘Miss, I really wish I could help you.’
‘Kate. My name’s Kate.’
‘Nice name. Kate.’ He smiled again. ‘I’ve seen a picture of the girl, very sweet, but not my sort I’m afraid.’ He gave Kate a leering smile, then added, ‘A little old for me.’
Kate held his stare, her face a mask. O’Connor had heard enough, though. He snapped, grabbing Innes by the front of his vest and slamming him back against the kitchen sink. Innes wasn’t rattled at all. O’Connor’s outburst brought another smirk to his face.
‘Quite the temper, Detective. Did I hit a sore spot?’
‘You are a piece of filth, Innes,’ O’Connor said in a quiet voice. ‘I’m going to check out your alibi and if there’s any holes in it, I’ll be back to pay another social call. In the meantime, I suggest you keep your fat arse at home. I’ll have guys watching you. One slip and I’ll nail you. Any questions shithead?’
‘You’re the one with the questions; me, I’m just your average law-abiding citizen.’
‘Really, well then you won’t mind if we borrow your PC?’
‘Do I have a choice?’
‘You’re quick, I’ll give you that.’ O’Connor took the warrant he wasn’t supposed to have from his jacket pocket and handed it to Innes. ‘A surprise for you, Mr Law-Abiding. I like to be a man of surprises, sort of adds a little extra spice. We’ll have this piece of junk back to you before you know it.’
They made their way out of the house, with O’Connor carrying the hard-drive of Innes’ PC. As he put it into the boot, Kate sat into the front seat, glad to be out of Innes’ house and company. O’Connor
snapped open the driver’s door, hurling himself into the front seat before slamming the door shut. It was obvious he was in no mood for talking, but Kate risked it anyway.
‘He’s not our man, O’Connor.’
His hand stopped halfway to the ignition and he turned to look at her. ‘Maybe not, but I still need to check out his alibi. The bastard’s sick enough, that’s for sure.’
‘Creepy, yes, but the killer, no.’
‘You can’t rule him out just like that, Kate,’ O’Connor said, unable to hide the impatience in his voice.
‘I can,’ Kate replied evenly. ‘Everything about Innes, even his house, is wrong. The place is a pit, everything is way too messy. And he’s not exactly fit. If he was involved with Caroline’s death, he’d have to have been working with someone else, and somehow Charles Innes doesn’t strike me as the sharing type.’
‘Fucking creep,’ O’Connor muttered, his shoulders still tense with anger.
‘Not a nice man, for sure.’
‘I’ll tell you something, Kate. I’m very glad I’m not the one who’ll be looking through that fucking computer of his. The likes of him make my skin crawl.’
Kate needed to pull his mind back onto the case. ‘I still want to visit the first burial site, O’Connor. I’ve been thinking about the blood pooling down the right-hand side of Caroline’s body. If Morrison is right that Caroline’s body wasn’t moved once the pooling occurred, then the killer did more than force the rigor, he maintained the position of the body the way he wanted it to be, not just within the burial but prior to it, as she lay waiting for him to bury her. Choosing that particular place to bury her was another layer of importance to him.’
‘You’ll have to go alone, so. I’ve another briefing in half an hour.’
‘That’s fine. Can you drop me back up to my car?’
‘Sure, I want to check in with Hanley and everyone before the next conference.’ He flicked a glance in her direction. ‘Kate, you seem distracted, something else on your mind?’
She shrugged. ‘It’s just a theory, nothing concrete.’
‘Go on.’
‘I don’t think our guy is sexually motivated.’
‘You can’t be sure.’
‘We can’t be sure of anything yet, but there are lots of reasons, other than sexual ones, why an adult male can be drawn to a child or, as in this case, a pre-teen girl. He may find it difficult to relate to other adults, for example. Children don’t pose the same threat. There is every possibility that he had the highest respect for Caroline, may have found her company more comfortable and interesting than many of the adults he encounters. Also, if he was sexually motivated and Amelia was a loose end he needed to get out of the way, then he would have taken his opportunity with her. The place couldn’t have been more isolated.’ She paused. ‘There’s something else, too.’
‘I’m listening.’
‘He was particular with both girls – the ribbons, the plaiting, the joining of the hands, the positioning of the bodies. It’s almost like he was preparing them for something, but what?’
‘If you don’t mind me saying so, Kate,’ O’Connor attempted to soften his tone, ‘you look a little pale.’
‘No, I’m fine. It’s just, well, creeps like Innes can get to me too, you know.’
He nodded. ‘They’re part of the territory, but none of us likes it.’
‘Do you remember being young, O’Connor?’
‘I’m not exactly old, thanks very much.’
Kate smiled. ‘No, I don’t mean that. Do you remember being their age?’
‘Like the two girls? Of course I do.’
‘Were you ever afraid of anything?’
‘I think all kids are, but I’m figuring your answer might be a whole lot more interesting than mine.’
‘I don’t know why, but this case has me thinking about when I was that age.’
‘Go on.’
‘Let’s just say my memories aren’t the stuff fairytales are made of.’
O’Connor was unusually quiet, and, just for a moment, Kate thought he was going to reach over to touch her. She held her breath, surprised to realise that she’d like it if he did. She could feel the heat creeping up from her chest onto her face, like some wayward teenager. She felt a stab of sadness too: it seemed like an eternity since anyone had held her, touched her. The distance between her and Declan was growing wider by the day. Mostly, it was like she didn’t have a husband any more; she certainly didn’t have a lover.
O’Connor shifted in his seat, rolling down the car window, looking away from her instead, before turning to smile back at her. ‘I don’t know, Kate; some of them so-called fairytales are pretty scary.’
Despite herself, she laughed. ‘Start the car, O’Connor, before you begin reciting some of them to me.’
‘You could be missing out on a whole lot of entertainment.’
‘Maybe, but I think we both have enough on our plate right now, don’t you?’
This time when O’Connor pulled his car out, he didn’t care who saw him.
HE WAS RELIEVED NOT TO BE GOING INTO NEWELL DESIGN, it being Saturday, especially considering the events of the night before. Had it not been for all their vulgar interference, disturbing Caroline from her place of rest, things could have been very different, with no necessity to address the complication of Amelia. It had been a mistake to mention Cronly Lodge to her, trying to impress her with his joy of swimming along the Wexford coast. He had been much more discreet with Caroline, wanting to surprise her with it all.
It would be too risky to take his usual walk up the mountains, so he decided to stay closer to home, opting for a walk in the nearby park instead, planning to pick up a newspaper at the local kiosk on the way. He wanted to keep abreast of events and figured that compiling newspaper cuttings of developments would be a good place to start. Now that he was something of a celebrity, he may as well enjoy and record his elevated status.
Although he enjoyed his walks in the mountains, as he entered Herbert Park he reflected on the niceties of a more structured planting environment. The gardens at Cronly were designed with orderly structure in mind – circular bedding areas, shaped hedges, clipped camellias – with all the elements orchestrated to create the perfect balance between control and beauty. Even the wild flowering areas were set within definitive borders and sub-borders to ensure that whilst they displayed all that was good and wonderful about their softness, they were maintained and trimmed to ensure the garden was always the farthest thing from wilderness.
Herbert Park still boasted the vibrant reds and pinks of late flowering, along with some winter bedding still in its infancy. The farther he walked, the more energised he felt, and he began to look forward to things to come. He managed to pick up a couple of papers at the kiosk. Initially he thought he might stop and have a good read whilst he was out, seeing as both papers had headlines covering the murder, but, on reflection, he kept them under his arm, deciding it would be much better to investigate everything when he got home.