She parked at Arthur’s Quay and walked through the park to stand by the river. To the right was King John’s Castle with its walls and towers of granite. Alongside it the majestic Shannon snaked by, forded by an arched bridge leading up to the castle keep. Across the river, but too small to see, was the Treaty Stone where the Treaty of Limerick was signed in 1691, ending the Siege of Limerick and the war between Williamites and Jacobites. Closer to Isobel, but not visible at the moment, was the Curragower Falls with its row of stones across the river. The Shannon was tidal as far as that point, a whole twenty miles from the sea. It always amazed and humbled Isobel. She actually knew someone who claimed to have walked across the falls as a child. Whether that was true or not, she always thought of her when she saw the stones. Behind this dramatic scenery was the backdrop of the Clare Mountains.
She took a deep and steadying breath. The weight of history, the enduring buildings, the timeless river, the courage of the Siege of Limerick, it always gave her heart. In a way she felt as if a man was laying siege to the women of the city now. How long had this been going on? How many women were affected? All she could do was share what she had found out with the gardaí.
Isobel walked along the riverfront towards the New Bridge. At the roundabout she moved away from the water and headed up the hill and into Henry Street. The Garda Station took up a block. It was a brown-brick building which looked functional rather than attractive. The door was to the left of the building. On entering, it took Isobel’s eyes a few moments to adjust from the bright sunlight to the dim interior. She heard a cough from her right and turned in that direction. Behind the desk was a young policeman.
“Hello, my name is Isobel McKenzie. I’m hoping to see Sergeant Alanna Finnegan.”
“You were here yesterday.”
“Yes, that’s right. I’m sorry I couldn’t wait yesterday – I had another appointment. Have you any idea when she might be available?”
“I passed on your message yesterday but she’s a bit busy with a murder and rape case.”
“I know. I found the body in Corbally on Tuesday.”
The garda straightened, shuffling his feet.
Isobel said, “I realise that she’s very busy, but I have some information that might be useful to her.”
“Sorry, we’ve just had some reporters in and, well, we have to be careful.”
“Of course.”
“I can’t ring her now because she’s with the family of the woman.”
Isobel nodded. “I’ll wait here until she’s free.”
“I’ll text her that you’re here with some new information and hopefully she’ll be available soon. Take a seat.”
Isobel nodded and found a not-so-comfortable chair. She took out her Kindle which she always carried in her handbag for delays such as this. However, after reading the same page three times and still being unable to retain any of it, she pulled out her phone and checked the news. The name of the woman had been released: Michelle Cavan. She was married and a mother of two children. Michelle lived down the Mill Road and often walked alone, and with friends, along the river walk in Corbally. Isobel’s eyes filled up. Two kids without their mother. She flicked through a number of online news pieces to get as much information as possible. She was so engrossed that she didn’t notice that the garda on reception was now standing in front of her.
“Sergeant Finnegan is nearly ready to see you. She asked me to put you in one of the interview rooms.”
Isobel followed him through a restricted door. The corridor was painted a pale green and had an industrial carpet. After passing three doors, the young garda opened the next one and stood back to let her in.
The room she was shown into was painted a dull greeny-brown colour. The lighting was dim and there was a smell of sweat overlaid with bleach and air-freshener. There was a table and four chairs.
“Take a seat and she’ll be with you soon. Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?”
Isobel felt the tea was probably the safer bet. “Tea, please.”
When the door opened some minutes later it was Alanna Finnegan who entered, carrying a mug in each hand. Isobel jumped up to stop the door from banging into her.
“You decided to chance the tea then?” the sergeant said with a grin.
“Bad idea?”
“No, no. The tea is better than the coffee. We all like Barry’s tea here.”
Isobel couldn’t help but smile. “My favourite too.”
They settled themselves on opposite sides of the table.
“Inspector Ryan is on his way.”
“Oh, I had hoped to speak to you alone.”
“We’re both working the case and so we both need to hear everything.”
“It’s just that he seemed a bit suspicious of my finding the body and, based on that, I don’t think he’ll appreciate what I have come to talk to you about today.”
“You saw him at a bad moment. He is one of our best officers at dealing with sexual crimes.”
Isobel nodded but said nothing. She needed to stay calm and present what she had learned clearly and she hoped credibly.
The door swung open again and Eoin Ryan breezed in. He took a seat beside his fellow officer.
“Now, what have you got to tell us?” he said. “I’m sure, given your track record, you’ve plenty to say.”
Isobel felt her mind go blank. “I’m sorry?”
“Well, I hear how you helped out the Met and I’m sure you’re here to give us your tuppence-worth.”
Isobel folded her lips together.
“We’ve already had a load of timewasters in yesterday and today telling us about things they think they saw and about people following them. Let’s hear it.”
Isobel sat back in her chair. “With that attitude, it’s a wonder that anyone bothers to give you information and it’s no wonder that women are reluctant to report rapes.”
“That’s not what you’re here for though, is it? What do you want?”
Isobel could feel her rage building. Rather than shouting, her voice became low and tight.
“I’m here to help as best I can. If you don’t want to act on what I have to tell you then that’s fine, but I feel I have to give you the information that has come to me.”
Alanna Finnegan placed her hands firmly on the table. “Eoin, do you want to go ahead and check those reports and I’ll listen to what Isobel has to say?”
Eoin Ryan turned abruptly to his fellow officer. Her look stilled him. He took a deep breath.
He turned back to Isobel. “I’m sorry, Ms. McKenzie. I’m very upset by this case and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
Isobel could feel her eyebrows rising.
“I get very involved in my cases and sometimes that’s a disadvantage.”
Isobel sensed the complex dynamics between these two colleagues. She also felt the truth of what Ryan had said. She was upset by the case too and more upset by the additional information that she had to share. She gave a nod of acknowledgement.
Relaxing his shoulders, he said, “Since you mentioned the Met yesterday, I contacted them. They kindly filled me in on your role in the Banks case. The officer I spoke to actually worked on the case. He said you were helpful – interfering, but helpful.” This time the tone was not adversarial but more tongue-in-cheek.
Isobel raised her eyebrows.
Before she could say anything, Alanna Finnegan said, “We’ve just come from the family home.”
“Michelle Cavan?” She saw Eoin Ryan frown and hastily added, “I saw her name online.”
“Yes. They’re distraught,” Finnegan continued.
“I can imagine. I hope that what I have to tell you will be of some help.”
Eoin Ryan gestured for her to continue, and Alanna Finnegan took out her notebook and a pen.
Isobel related what she had learned from Emer and Sarah. As she spoke, she felt there was a reaction when she described the strangling to subdue the women and again when she
mentioned the surface they were lying on and the black suit the man had worn.
Isobel came to the end of her narrative and there was silence. She looked from one to the other. Both were looking at the table as if disinclined to meet her gaze.
Eoin Ryan broke the silence. “Who are these two ladies?”
“I’m sorry. I can’t tell you. They are afraid to say anything because of the threat to their families.”
“We would like to talk to them.”
“No. That is not something they have agreed to.”
He stared at her for a few moments. “Because you think Michelle Cavan was raped and strangled, you’re wondering if there is a connection between Michelle and the two women you have talked to.”
Isobel bit her lip. “Well, yes …”
“That’s a massive assumption.” Eoin Ryan shifted in his chair.
Silence fell.
Isobel felt tension building up in her shoulders. Surely Michelle Cavan’s disturbed clothing suggested rape, the marks on her neck strangulation? Despite her attempts to be calm she could feel her impatience rising, her anger. They were saying nothing. Could she have made faulty assumptions? But there still remained a woman dead and two other women who had been raped. She had to give this her best shot.
She sat up straight. “To be honest, what I really wonder is whether killing Michelle was an accident and there is actually a man out there who has been raping and terrorising women for a considerable time.”
Eoin Ryan looked down and surveyed his nails. He took a deep breath and then glanced at Sergeant Finnegan.
“The Met did say that without your interference they would never have known what Thomas Banks had done.”
Isobel rubbed her face with her hands. “The word interference tells me how you really feel.” She chewed on her lip. She could feel the egos in the room banging against each other, hers too. She felt impatient with herself. What was important here was the women and what had happened to them and finding the man who had done it. All she could do was tell them what she knew and her suspicions, even if they were unappreciated. She sat back in her chair.
“I just thought that the fact that one of the women was attacked in a similar area to Michelle Cavan might be significant and then when both of the women I spoke to told similar stories, well, I thought they might all be connected.” She took a deep breath. “If it was the same man, then I think Michelle’s death was an escalation or maybe a mistake. I think there is a man in this city who has been systematically attacking women and terrorising them into silence for at least nine months. And you might call it interference but I think there are more victims out there. Lots of people won’t talk to the police. And in crimes like rape, talking to the police and dealing with the legal system can be another type of assault.”
Eoin Ryan looked at Alanna and then back at Isobel. “If an officer at the Met can trust you and have you at team briefings, then I’m going to go out on a limb. Michelle Cavan was raped.”
Isobel laced her hands together in her lap. “Oh.”
He looked again at Alanna who shrugged. “And she died from a heart attack.”
Isobel felt her own heart skip a beat. “A heart attack?”
“Yes. Her throat was compressed and damage done, but she had an undiagnosed weakness in her heart and the doctor thinks that the lack of oxygen and the fear brought on a heart attack.”
Eyes locked on Eoin Ryan’s face, Isobel whispered, “He didn’t mean to kill her. She died by accident.” She shivered, chilled to the bone.
“It looks that way. So it seems your idea of a connection is –” he shrugged, “interesting. Let me get another cup of tea and see what we have here.”
He left and Isobel looked blankly at Alanna Finnegan. Then she leant forward and put her hands to her forehead.
“Are you alright, Isobel?”
“The reality of this is just hitting me now.”
Alanna nodded. “What you’ve told us is very worrying. If you have a victim who was attacked nine months ago …” She didn’t finish her sentence. She didn’t need to.
They sat in silence until Eoin Ryan returned, bearing a tray with three cups.
Isobel, still feeling dazed, said, “So Michelle’s rape and murder could be linked to the two cases I’ve mentioned to you?”
“Some of the facts that the women gave you are consistent with the preliminary forensic data,” Eoin said.
“What do you mean?”
Alanna rolled her eyes. “Basically the lab has told us that there is no forensic trace of the attacker, no semen, no skin cells, no hair. They have never seen a crime scene so clean. No transfer that they can find.”
Isobel frowned.
Alanna made a face. “The forensic people have said that it was likely Michelle had been lying on something during the attack. Obviously, the man wore a condom but they also suggested that the murderer wore a protective suit of some kind, like they do at crime scenes.”
Isobel pursed her lips. “I see.”
Alanna continued. “Both of the women you talked to described those aspects to you.”
“Yes.”
“And the intimidation that the two women described explains why there have been no reports,” Eoin said.
“A ruthless predator preying on women.” Alanna shook her head. “Eoin, we need to take this to the Super.”
“We do but we have a problem.”
Alanna folded her arms.
“You know what he’s going to say, Alanna. We can’t investigate unreported crimes.”
Isobel felt a knot of anger tightening in her stomach. Her hands curled into fists. “Are you telling me that they aren’t crimes until they’re reported?” Her voice had reached a high tone and was starting to shake.
Eoin shook his head and continued to look at Alanna. “You know we won’t get extra staff based on hearsay.”
Alanna rubbed her hand over her face. “I know.”
“But there’s a huge problem here!” Isobel said. “Something has to be done. I mean, this is like a nightmare. He can’t be left to keep doing this.”
Alanna put her hands over her eyes. “We know. We’re just talking about how much help we can get.”
Isobel swallowed. “I can’t ask these women to report what happened to you. They’re terrified for their kids. They don’t go out. They’re struggling to function.”
“It’s OK, Isobel,” Eoin said. “We understand how traumatised the women are.”
Isobel nodded.
“Your statements are consistent with what we’ve found,” he continued. “So, we believe you. And we will move forward with the understanding that we have a serial offender on our hands. We’re very grateful for the information that you’ve brought us. We thought he might be operating in the Corbally area only but it’s clear from what you’ve told us that he has more than one hunting ground.” He turned to Alanna. “We’ll tell the Super everything and see if we can swing more help.”
Isobel frowned. “Perhaps if there was information you needed, or questions you wanted answered, I could see if the women would help.”
Eoin pursed his lips. “Let’s keep in touch and we’ll get back to you. Thanks for the information. To catch this man we’re going to need all the help we can get.”
Isobel stood and both detectives shook her hand.
Still dazed, she walked out into the sunshine but, despite the heat of the sun, she felt chilled to the bone.
Chapter 9
As soon as Isobel reached home she phoned Patricia.
“Well, how did it go with the gardaí?”
“Eoin Ryan rang the Met and talked to someone who was on the Banks case and he called us ‘interfering’.”
“No way!”
“I know. Interfering but helpful. Eoin said that we’d helped in the Banks case and if the Met could trust me then so would he. It was weird. One minute we were ‘interfering’ and the next he was thanking me for my help. He was like a bear with a sore he
ad at the scene on Tuesday and at first when I met him today but then he apologised and even shared some things about the case. But Sergeant Finnegan says he’s really good on these cases so we’ll see.”
“What did you find out?”
“That yesterday’s victim, Michelle Cavan, had a weakness in her heart and died from stress and fear brought on by strangulation.”
“Oh! So it was like you were thinking.”
“Yes, and when I mentioned some of the other details like the mask, the suit and the sheet the women were lying on, they really listened. It seems their forensic people had suggested something like that and the fact that Emer and Sarah described those things added weight to everything.”
“So they think it is the same man and that he wasn’t planning to kill ...”
“Michelle.”
“That he wasn’t planning to kill Michelle but to rape her, like Emer and Sarah.”
“Yes. It seems like that.”
“And other victims? Did they say anything about that?”
“Not so much but they are worried. They too think that he is very practised. Because I was telling them about unreported crimes, that makes things more difficult in terms of getting more resources, more personnel. He and the sergeant have gone to talk to the Superintendent about everything.”
“Peter and I talked last night about the fact that the women were afraid to go to the police and Peter suggested that they might sign an affidavit – a statement witnessed by a notary.”
“But that means they would have to go out, meet a stranger and tell them everything. I don’t think that they would be up for that.”
“Yes, I know.”
There was a silence.
Then Patricia said, “What they really need to do is give an anonymous tip – give the information but not their names. I know it’s not a legal document but anonymous tips can be helpful in cases.”
“That’s a good idea. Maybe there is a way for them to do that.”
There was a silence.
“The other thing I’ve been wondering about,” Isobel said, “is how he finds the women he is going to attack.”
Broken Silence: A tense psychological thriller Page 6