Broken Silence: A tense psychological thriller

by Fran McDonnell

Isobel swallowed a lump in her throat. “Who is she?”

  He focused on her again. “There’s no bag and no phone. And she had no pockets to carry ID.” He turned to Sergeant Finnegan. “I’ve phoned the station with a description and I’m waiting to hear back about anybody reported missing.”

  She nodded. “Isobel, we’re going to need a statement from you. Is there anything else you can tell me?”

  Isobel shrugged. “I found the body, that’s all.”

  “I’ll get the lads in Henry Street to take your statement. Put in as much detail as you can. Sometimes, when you calm down, other things come back to you.”

  Isobel nodded.

  “Let me walk you out,” the sergeant said. “Just follow in my steps.”

  Isobel had taken a few steps when she heard the inspector’s voice.

  “Thank you, Ms. McKenzie.”

  Isobel looked back. He gave a small nod and then turned back to the crime scene.

  Isobel stood a moment, then shrugged and followed the sergeant back across the field to the gate.

  Chapter 3

  Isobel sank onto her kitchen chair, a mug of Barry’s tea cradled in her hands. She shivered even though she wasn’t cold. She realised she was in shock. She glanced at her watch. It was four o’clock. It seemed like a lifetime ago since she had her breakfast at this same table. She didn’t feel like the same person, never mind that it was the same day.

  Aside from the shock, she felt deeply sad for the woman and for her family and friends. But there was more than that. Isobel could feel a knot of anger starting in her stomach and pushing up into her chest. She was angry, angry that this had happened to a woman out walking, angry that she hadn’t been safe, angry that someone had taken so much from her. And stirring in her mind she could feel the awakening of the investigator in her.

  A few months before an old friend had asked Isobel to come to London to give her impression of a couple, the Banks, who were pushing through a bi-partisan divorce. Despite her initial reluctance Isobel had found herself intrigued by the mystery of what was really going on with the Banks. Was it a simple no-fault divorce? Was there coercive control involved? Domestic violence? In pursuing the answers, Isobel had found out many things about herself. The Banks investigation had helped her find new hope and belief in herself for the future, after her treatment for cancer. Now it seemed that life was placing another crime in her path and she could feel a part of her rise to the challenge. Who had killed and probably raped the woman she had found today? Was there anything she could do to help, as she had helped the Met Police in the Banks case?

  As Isobel sipped her tea, her landline rang. She could feel her insides curl up protectively against having to talk to anyone – she had turned her mobile off. The answer machine could pick up. All her family and friends knew to leave a message if they really needed to talk. Oh God, the very idea of having to tell anyone what had gone on this morning, to even have to try to explain when it felt so raw! After a few minutes she rose and played back the message.

  “Hi, Isobel, this is Rebecca. I’m over with my daughter in Corbally and everyone is talking about a woman being found dead in the field beside the path. Isn’t that where you go walking on Tuesday mornings? Are you OK? Just let me know that you’re alright.”

  Isobel frowned. Rebecca sounded really overwhelmed and concerned about her. She knew she couldn’t add to her worries. She picked up her mobile and rang her.

  “Hi, Rebecca.”

  “Oh, thank God! It’s such a relief to hear from you!” Then, slightly more muffled as if she had turned away from the phone, “Emer, it’s Isobel – I’m going into the kitchen to take this.”

  Isobel heard some mutterings and then doors opening and closing.

  “Hi, Isobel. Everyone here is talking about the body they found – but you’re OK?”

  Isobel could feel herself smiling despite everything. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  “Did you see anything this morning when you were out, or did everything happen after you had already finished walking?”

  “Actually, Rebecca, I found the body.”

  “What? Oh my God!”

  “I know. I can hardly believe that it was this morning. It seems ages ago. It was dreadful. That poor woman!”

  “Terrible. And that walk is so popular. How did you find her? Everyone is saying that her body was in the field, not on the path, so how did you spot her?”

  “That’s what the gardaí asked me.”

  “Oh!”

  “Well, on the way out there were some dogs barking passing the field and behaving strangely and then, on the way back, there were lots of crows over a certain spot and … I just thought there was something not right and that I should check it out.”

  “I think you were meant to find that woman. Thank goodness you did, otherwise God knows how long the poor woman would have been lying there, alone.”

  Isobel felt her eyes prick with tears.

  “Yes. You were meant to find her.”

  Isobel felt comforted by that. “I had to go to Henry Street and give a statement.”

  “That must have been awful.”

  Isobel could feel her tension unravelling under the support and concern.

  “The awful part is what happened to the woman – strangled and they think maybe raped. It’s so sad and I’m angry.”

  “Raped and strangled?”

  “Oh, didn’t you hear? Well, I suppose it’s confidential but that’s what the evidence suggests.”

  Isobel heard a scream in the background and then, “Isobel, I have to go, Emer is having a meltdown. Bye, thank God you’re OK.”

  And Rebecca was gone.

  Isobel slowly put the phone down. She knew that Rebecca had her hands full. She was worried about her daughter Emer who was suffering from depression. Emer refused to go out, she was off work sick, she didn’t sleep and if she did she woke screaming. She wanted company all of the time but refused to discuss what was going on.

  Isobel said a small prayer for Emer and then, overcome with all the pain around her, she put her head down and cried.

  As always, when the tide of emotion had been given space, it receded, leaving calmness. Isobel ran a bath. From the comfort of it she heard the phone ring and slid down further into the scented bubbles.

  Later, freshly dressed, Isobel cooked some pasta and vegetables. By the time she had consumed it she felt much more human. She was relaxing on the sofa when her mobile rang. It was Rebecca again.

  “How is Emer?” Isobel asked. “Is she OK or are things getting worse?”

  “She followed me into the kitchen and when she heard me talking to you about what happened today, she got really upset. Now she says that she wants to talk to you.”

  “That’s a change.”

  “She won’t tell me what she wants to talk about. I hate to ask it of you, but we’ve been so worried.” Rebecca hesitated. “This is the first time in months that it has seemed like she might open up.” She hurried on, “I know you’ve had a nightmare of a day but, please, I’m desperate?”

  Isobel felt overwhelmed. She was tired and she didn’t know if she had anything left to give. But this was the first time there had been any possibility of an opening with Emer and she knew that if it wasn’t seized the opportunity might not arise again for a long time. She quietly sighed. It had to be today of all days when she already felt washed out. Not ideal.

  Rebecca broke the silence. “I’ve told her that you’ve had a brutal day and asked if it can wait until tomorrow but …”

  Isobel took a deep breath. “I’ll come.”

  “Great.”

  She heard Rebecca talking and a murmured response.

  “Can you come now?”

  Isobel took a deep breath. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

  Chapter 4

  For the second time that day Isobel found herself in the Corbally area of the city. She parked near Emer’s house and, as she got out of her car, a man stood up fr
om a wall he’d been sitting on.

  “Isobel?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Ben, Emer’s partner.”

  “Hi, Ben.”

  “Thank you for coming. This is the first time Emer has wanted anyone who isn’t family to call. She barely leaves the house. Anything you can do to find out what’s going on would be so appreciated. I’d be so grateful. She won’t tell me.”

  “If she tells me in confidence then I can’t tell you either.”

  “No, I understand. I love her but I don’t know how to help her or what to do for the best.” He scuffed the ground with his trainer. “We’d been trying for a baby and I thought that maybe she had miscarried but she says no. I’m at my wits’ end.” His voice caught and he cleared his throat, “Anything that you think I can do to help, just tell me and I will gladly do it.”

  Isobel touched his hand and nodded.

  “I’m going for a walk to give you space to talk,” he said. “Rebecca can call me when you’re done.” He nodded goodbye and, head down, walked slowly away.

  Rebecca swung open the door before Isobel had time to knock. Immediately she was encased in a bear hug. “I’m so glad you’re OK and thanks for coming. Come in, come in. Emer’s in the sitting room.”

  Isobel had met Emer a few years before. She was beautiful, slim, with long blonde hair, clear blue eyes, and a wide friendly smile. That was then. The woman in front of her now bore little resemblance to that. Emer’s thin frame was clad in a grey shapeless tracksuit. Her hair was scraped back into a scrunchie. She was agitated and shifting in her chair. She turned her face half away and with one eye looked at Isobel and then looked hastily away.

  Rebecca said, “Will I go and take that bath now, Emer, or …?”

  “What?” Emer frowned. “Oh … yes … yes, take your bath.”

  Rebecca hesitated. Emer looked at the floor. With an imploring look at Isobel, Rebecca left, closing the door behind her.

  Isobel sat down in the other armchair in the room. Emer kept her head down so Isobel took a calming breath and relaxed. Giving Emer time to adjust to her being there, she looked around the room.

  Emer curled her legs up under her on the leather armchair. There was a blanket over the arm of the chair, which was falling half onto her lap, covering her. The sofa had a bedroom pillow on it. Isobel suspected that Emer spent most of her time in this room, day and night, but it smelt fresh and was clean and tidy. A glass of water stood on a table beside her, alongside her phone and the TV remote control.

  Isobel cleared her throat and Emer glanced at her.

  “How can I help, Emer? What did you want to talk to me about?”

  Emer plucked at her blanket.

  Isobel waited.

  Emer risked another look. “You found that woman’s body today?”

  “Yes.”

  “She’d been strangled?”

  “Yes.”

  Emer looked at her, her lip quivering. Her voice when it came was a whisper, “Had she been raped as well?”

  Isobel looked into her eyes and her heart lurched. Eyes now locked on Emer, she said, “The pathologist will have to confirm that but well, her clothing … it seems likely.”

  Emer swallowed, her lip trembled and then a tear slid down her cheek.

  Isobel watched it, her own eyes tingling.

  Emer put her hand up across her eyes and bowed her head.

  Isobel swallowed. “I’m so sorry.”

  Emer’s shoulders started to shake and her head sank lower, almost to her lap. She curled up in a foetal shape. There was no sound, but the shaking escalated.

  Isobel bit her lip, knowing how fragile this woman was and how tenuous this opening was.

  “I’m so sorry,” Isobel whispered again.

  A stifled cry came from the curled bundle on the chair.

  Isobel moved off her chair and sat on the floor beside Emer. “I’m so sorry about what happened,” she said.

  Emer began to cry softly.

  Isobel gently placed a hand on her shoulder. She flinched slightly. Isobel kept her hand in place and Emer’s crying intensified.

  They sat like that for some time. Eventually the sobs diminished and Emer took some steadying breaths. She shifted her position and Isobel withdrew her hand and moved back to her chair.

  Emer sat up.

  “Why didn’t he kill me?”

  Isobel swallowed. “I don’t know.”

  Emer let out a deep sigh. “He said he’d kill one of my family if I told anyone.”

  Isobel bit her lip.

  “But sometimes I think that I might be better off dead.”

  “No.”

  “I feel as if I’m dead already.”

  “What happened, Emer?”

  Emer closed her eyes and swallowed, then flicking a glance at Isobel she looked again at the floor.

  “I used to go walking most evenings along the river with a friend of mine.” She swallowed. “One evening a week she used to go to her mother’s so I used to do the walk alone.” She looked up, her brows wrinkled, her hands worrying each other. “I walked there all the time. It didn’t seem an unsafe thing to do.”

  Isobel shook her head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Emer.”

  Emer’s eyes filled up with tears. “I keep thinking what if?”

  “Everyone does, but it doesn’t help. It doesn’t help us deal with what did happen. You can only move forward from where you are, not where you wish things were.”

  Isobel stopped talking and closed her eyes, annoyed at herself. That had probably not been helpful. After a few more moments she said, “So your friend wasn’t with you. It was which night of the week?”

  “Wednesday.”

  “So, as usual on a Wednesday, you headed off for your walk at around …?”

  “Seven.”

  “What was the weather like?”

  “I’ll never forget it. It was a cold but dry evening in January. There was a moon.”

  “Did you meet anyone you knew?”

  Emer looked up. “Oh yes. The walk is very well lit with streetlights, and I passed Marie Jones. She was on her way back.”

  Emer lapsed into silence.

  Isobel prompted gently. “You walked another bit.”

  Emer was very still.

  “You walked on as far as …”

  Eyes fixed on a point on the floor, Emer said, “I walked on as far as a gate that is close to the path. As I passed the gate I was grabbed suddenly from behind. He had his hand over my mouth, but it wasn’t like a hand – it was all plasticky and horrible.” She shivered. Her breathing caught. “He had his other arm around my body and he dragged me back into the field behind the hedge. It all happened so fast that I hardly realised what was happening.” She swallowed and her hands reached up to her throat. “Then he put his hands around my neck from behind and he began to strangle me. I thought I was dying.”

  Emer’s eyes filled with tears and her breathing was ragged. She kept her eyes fixed on the floor as if looking back in time through a window.

  “When I came round there was tape over my mouth. I was lying on some type of material. He had cut my top open and had pulled my leggings down. My hands were tied together. He was in some sort of black suit, covering his head and face too. It was horrible, not human, all rubbery. And then, then he …” Her voice shook as in a whisper she said, “Then he raped me.” She put her head in her hands.

  Isobel could feel her own eyes filling with tears.

  “He leaned in close to my ear. He said that if I told anyone what happened that he would harm my niece and nephew. Then he put his hands around my throat and squeezed and I passed out again.”

  Isobel waited.

  “I came around a bit later and I was lying on the grass – alone. I couldn’t believe that I was still alive. I was so shocked that I just lay there for a while. I remembered what he had whispered to me and so I pulled my clothes on as best I could and stood up and I walked home.” She was
crying now. “I shouldn’t have done the walk alone.”

  Isobel could hear all those thoughts, ceaseless thoughts that circle the mind and torment you as you try to make sense of things. Matching her voice to the low tone of Emer’s, she said, “It’s OK that you went walking. That is a walk that lots of people do on their own. You did nothing wrong. Only this man did something wrong.”

  Emer stilled as Isobel spoke and her tears slowed. Without looking up, she said, “I remembered what he had said about not telling anyone, about my niece and nephew. That frightened me. How did he know about them? He must have been watching me and I never knew. I was so afraid. I came home and I had a shower and scrubbed myself clean.” She looked up at Isobel, her voice quiet. “Of course I’ve never felt clean since, no matter how much I wash and scrub.”

  Isobel could feel the tears running down her cheeks. “I know. I understand. I’m so sorry that this happened to you.”

  Emer continued to look at Isobel. “Then I heard about the woman you found today and that she had died.” She broke down, her head again in her hands.

  Isobel moved and sat on the floor beside Emer’s chair once again. She gently put her hand on Emer’s shoulder, and her sobs intensified. Isobel cringed at the heartrending sounds, but she knew that there might be some relief for Emer in letting go.

  They stayed like that for a long time.

  Emer eventually raised her head. “You’re the first person I’ve told.”

  Isobel nodded. “Thank you for telling me.” She removed her hand but stayed sitting on the floor.

  “I’m afraid now for my nephew and niece, Barry and Rachel. But I can’t let anyone else die.” Her eyes teared up again. “That poor woman.”

  “You’ve been so brave in telling me. But, Emer, the only way to protect Barry and Rachel is for the family to keep a closer eye on them.”

  Emer looked at her. “You mean I need to tell the family.”

  Isobel looked Emer in the eye. “Yes. It’s the safest thing to do for the children.”

  Emer nodded sadly. “I know. I should’ve told Ben what happened but at the start I thought I was keeping the kids safe and that I would be able to cope.” Her voice shook. “Obviously, I’m not coping. I can’t bear for him to touch me. I’m having panic attacks. I can’t go out. I hate myself. I hate my body. I don’t want to see anyone. Once I hadn’t said anything to Ben, it just got harder and harder to even think about telling him.”