Broken Silence: A tense psychological thriller

by Fran McDonnell

  “You mean how does he ‘source his victims’?”

  “Yeah.”

  “There are two locations involved – do you think he might be a walker?” Patricia asked.

  “Maybe a walker. What else?”

  “The guy in the sports shop where they buy their runners?”

  “Could be.”

  “It could be anyone.”

  “That’s a horrible feeling.” Isobel shivered. “To be honest, this case has me a bit spooked. The fact that he knew about the women’s families means he watched them and not just when they were out walking. My skin is crawling. I feel like looking over my shoulder. When I left the Garda Station I drove out to Killaloe and went for a walk. I was using my Nordic walking poles and they made me feel a bit safer but I was as jumpy as hell, keeping an eye on the bushes I was passing and glad of traffic passing beside me where normally I want the peace and quiet. Instead of relaxing during my walk I had my wits about me.”

  “I don’t blame you. Please be careful. Are the police going to issue a warning to walkers?”

  “I would think so.”

  “What are the chances they’ll able to find him any time soon?” Patricia asked.

  “Slim. There was no forensic information. The bodysuit and the sheet on the ground seem to have done their job.”

  There was a silence.

  “I would like to help, if I can,” Isobel said.

  “I know. All I can think of is to find areas of commonality between the women to see if that’s how he met them. Unfortunately, that means that the more victims you know about, the better the chance you have of finding overlaps.”

  “Yes, really there are two areas: finding if there are more victims and discovering how the attacker picks out his victims.”

  “I’ll think about both of those aspects and see if I can come up with any ideas.”

  “Do,” Isobel said. “All suggestions gratefully accepted.”

  “Keep me informed and be careful.”

  “I will. Thanks for the chat. You help me think more clearly.”

  “That’s what friends are for. Don’t let Eoin rile you.”

  “What?”

  “The good inspector.”

  “No comment. Bye.”

  Isobel looked at her watch. Maybe she should talk to Emer and see if she would speak anonymously to the gardaí.

  Chapter 10

  Isobel worked in the garden all afternoon, weeding the vegetable bed as she wrestled with herself. She was in two minds. A part of her wanted Emer to make a statement that would help them find the man who had terrorised her and other women, but another part of her knew that Emer shouldn’t be pushed. In the end she decided to tell her the truth and let her decide for herself.

  It was seven o’clock in the evening when she pulled up outside Emer’s.

  Ben opened the door. “Hi, Isobel.”

  “How are you doing?”

  “Much better. There have been lots of tears and, to be honest, some shouting but that’s better than the silence.”

  She sensed that he was not as lost as the last time she had met him. He seemed to be one of those people who did better when they had a problem to solve.

  “Where’s Emer?”

  Ben showed her into the sitting room.

  Emer was dressed in a blue track suit and her hair was lying long over her shoulders and brushed until it shone pale and golden.

  Isobel noted the change in appearance. She sat down.

  “How are you doing, Emer?” she said.

  “Not great. They all think, now I’ve told them, that it’s all over for me and I can just get on with my life. Instead now I spend all my time worrying …” She put her fists up to her head. “I’m tormented by wondering. What do they think? Do they see me differently?” She raised her head and her eyes were full of anguish.

  Isobel swallowed a lump in her throat. “After I had the mastectomy that thought used to torment me too. What do they think when they see me?” She shivered. “In the end I had to accept that it was I who saw myself differently. That was hard. I had to keep looking in the mirror, applying creams even when I didn’t want to, and it did get easier.”

  Emer sat still, her eyes focused intently on Isobel.

  Isobel returned her gaze but with a softer focus. “Sometimes, even when things are going well, that feeling comes over me, that I’m different, that I’ll never be the same. Now, that feeling is shorter and sharper and I manage it better. It takes time – and I suppose it helped that I talked to someone.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yes. It was too much for those close to me to handle it all, so I found someone to talk to.”

  “You think I should do that?”

  “I know it helped me. You have to do what helps you – but bottling it up, well, I don’t think that helps.”

  Emer looked away. “I know. I do feel better after having told you and told everyone.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “But I’m angry now and I’m fighting with Ben.”

  “Maybe you’re angry at what happened to you, angry with the man who did this.”

  “Of course I am.”

  “And maybe Ben is getting a bit of that anger.”

  “I suppose he is. I try not to take it out on him but …”

  “That’s why I went for help. After the surgery I went into a very dark, depressed place. I talked to someone in cancer support who has experience with what I was going through.” Isobel pursed her lips. “You must do what is right for you – but think about it.” She shifted in her seat. “I came to see you today to tell you a few things that I’ve found out. I spoke to the gardaí today.” She made eye contact with Emer. “What you went through may be similar to what Michelle Cavan, the woman who was killed, went through.”

  Emer went pale but nodded for Isobel to continue.

  “In fact the gardaí are considering that it might be the same man.”

  “And Sarah?”

  “You will have to talk to Sarah yourself.”

  Emer eyed her. “I know from her reactions that it was the same as me. So you think there is a serial rapist and murderer out there?”

  “It seems possible.”

  Emer screwed up her face. “What do you want from me?”

  “I want to tell you how things stand and let you decide what you want to do. Obviously the gardaí would want to hear about your attack.”

  Emer paled. “No. I can’t take that risk. If he killed a woman I can’t take the risk that he would harm the kids.”

  Isobel nodded.

  Emer chewed the skin on one of her fingers, watching Isobel. “Surely you told them that you knew of women who were attacked in a similar way? Are the gardaí not taking that seriously?”

  “They are. It’s just that …”

  “Just what?”

  “It’s just that what you told me is unofficial.”

  Emer’s voice was rising. “So it doesn’t matter?”

  Isobel shook her head. “No, it does matter but to get resources …”

  “It has to be official.”

  Isobel made a face.

  Emer looked out of the window. “I do want to help. I don’t want anyone else to go through this. If the gardaí need to know anything about what happened to me I would want them to have the information but …”

  Isobel nodded. “I thought you might feel like that.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, you were so insistent about Sarah getting help.” She leant forward. “Listen, Emer, I’ve been racking my brains for a way to get information to the gardaí in a way that means they don’t meet you – like an anonymous tip.”

  Emer frowned. “An anonymous tip. Yes, I could do that. You could make a recording of me telling you about what happened.”

  Isobel nodded. “Would you be prepared to do that? Then I can give it to them as an anonymous tip.”

  “So they would have the information but not know it was me.”
r />   “Exactly.”

  “Yes. Let’s do it. Now.”

  Isobel raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Do you want more time to think about it?”

  “The longer I think about it, the less likely I might be to follow through – so let’s do it now.”

  “I don’t want you to do something that you’ll regret.”

  “No. I want to do it. You record it on your phone.”

  It was harrowing to hear Emer’s story again and harrowing for Emer to relive it. At the end she was pale and shaken. Isobel went out to the kitchen to get her some water and Ben came back into the sitting room with her. She handed the glass to Emer who sipped the water.

  “Are you alright, love?” Ben asked.

  Emer smiled wanly at him. “Yes. But I’m tired.” She put down the glass and reached out her arms to him. He gently embraced her.

  Isobel said, “Thanks for this, Emer.”

  “If the gardaí need more questions answered maybe we can record the answers for them.”

  Isobel nodded. “Of course. I’ll let you know if there are more questions. Rest well.”

  In the car Isobel rang Henry Street. Ryan and Finnegan had gone home. She would give them the recording tomorrow.

  Despite her tiredness Isobel had a terrible night. As she lay in bed her stomach was knotted with anxiety about the lump in her breast. Could she have a recurrence? She took deep breaths and did her best to calm herself. Eventually, when exhaustion made her close her eyes, she saw dark figures pursuing her.

  She ran as fast as she could, desperately trying to stay ahead of them.

  She was exhausted from running, fighting for breath, struggling to stand upright, to keep going.

  She woke struggling to breathe and bathed in sweat.

  At five o’clock she surrendered to not being able to sleep and got up and watched the sunrise with a cup of tea. In the end she did some laundry – anything to make the time pass.

  Chapter 11

  Friday 21st June

  As always Isobel was too early for her appointment at the hospital. She parked in the car park at the back and made her way through the hospital to Breast Check. As she walked along the labyrinthine corridors she took deep breaths and avoided eye contact.

  As she came to a corner she collided with someone. To steady herself she grasped an arm, her mind registering that it was a man by its thickness and strength. She started to apologise, looking up to see who she had run into. The words died on her lips when she encountered the intense brown eyes of Inspector Eoin Ryan.

  Isobel’s mouth froze open in horror. His reaction was equally uncomfortable.

  Isobel glanced at the door he had come out of: Ward 4B, the Mental Health ward.

  Isobel found her voice first. “Sorry. I was rushing.” She dreaded that he would ask about why she was here. Feeling as she did now, she thought that she would break down and cry.

  “That’s alright. We’re all a bit distracted.” His voice was soft with none of the hard edge she had encountered in their previous meetings.

  “I’ll be in touch later today.” She smiled quickly and then turned to walk on.

  “Bye,” she heard as she hurried away.

  The Breast Check waiting room had large glass windows overlooking the city and lots of comfortable leather chairs in shades of purple and pink. Tea and coffee were freely available but Isobel just had some water. The anxiety was snaking in her stomach. She took a seat close to the doors where the staff emerged to call the next patient. Isobel pulled a magazine onto her lap and flicked through the colourful pages. She had no mind to concentrate on a book or the television which flashed images into the waiting room.

  The atmosphere was tense but there was also a feeling of solidarity. No one talked or really looked at each other but there was a sense that everyone was in the same boat.

  Three people were in front of her. Eventually, a nurse who knew Isobel well, Jenny, appeared at the door and called her name. Isobel smiled a greeting while inside her stomach was turning summersaults.

  “Thanks for seeing me so soon.”

  “No problem. Today is your doctor’s day.”

  The examination took ten minutes.

  “I’m going to recommend a mammogram. It can’t be done today but Jenny will see when we can fit you in.”

  Isobel bit her lip. Surely this could not be starting all over again.

  Jenny slipped out and Isobel collected her bag to leave.

  Outside Jenny handed her an appointment card.

  “Monday at eleven o’clock. Not too long to wait. Try not to worry.”

  “I know. I’m grateful to you all.”

  ***

  Isobel knew that she felt shaky. She had hoped to give Alanna and Eoin the recording but she couldn’t do it like this. She went to the cafeteria in the hospital and ordered a black coffee. Sitting down and sipping it, the caffeine kicking her system into action, she could feel some sense of the present coming back to her. She sipped her coffee. There was nothing she could do until Monday. Nothing was going to change what they would find. All she could do was get through the next few days as best she could. She knew that walking would help her as it had done before. She thought of what she was facing, maybe more cancer treatment. She thought also about Emer and Sarah and what they were dealing with. All of them had difficult things to face, hard days ahead, days of anxiety and fear. Like them she had taken a step in her journey. Have the scan, that was the next step.

  Isobel took a deep breath. Other women had been in this position. She could get through this. She just had to keep breathing, keep moving forward. There were no guarantees with anything, for anyone.

  The next step was to share Emer’s recording with Inspector Ryan and Sergeant Finnegan. She was going to complete the plans she had made. For now she could feel her anxiety abate. She finished her coffee and walked through the hospital, back to her car. She would see what they said about Emer’s recording and if they thought it was helpful she could ask Sarah if she would make one.

  Chapter 12

  When Isobel arrived in Henry Street it was the same garda behind the counter.

  “Hello, Ms. McKenzie.”

  “Hello. I need to see Sergeant Finnegan.”

  “Oh yes. You’re involved with the Corbally case. Just a moment, let me see if Sergeant Finnegan or Inspector Ryan is free to talk to you.”

  Isobel noted once again her dread about meeting Eoin Ryan, only this time it was in case he mentioned bumping into her at the hospital. He had probably been there for work. Maybe he would assume that she was there visiting someone. She exhaled deeply. Stay calm. Focus on what you are here to do.

  As she sat waiting, Isobel, as she always did before a meeting, thought about what she wanted to achieve in the interaction. It was clear that Emer wasn’t going to make any official statement. Would the detectives accept Emer’s recorded account as a type of anonymous tip? They had not been sure about how the Super would respond to her finding two unreported victims. What would he think of this?

  “Isobel?”

  “Sergeant Finnegan.”

  “Alanna, please.”

  Isobel smiled and stood up.

  “Why don’t you come this way to an interview room? I’ll call Eoin and he can meet us there.”

  Isobel swallowed. She would have to do her best to pass their accidental meeting at the hospital off as nothing.

  They adjourned to the interview room.

  Eoin Ryan arrived with three teas. He glanced at Isobel and looked quickly away. “Hi, Isobel.”

  “Hello, Inspector.”

  There was a silence. He seemed as uncomfortable as she was. She thanked the gods for small mercies.

  “I was wondering how the superintendent responded to news of the other rapes,” she said.

  “We can’t discuss police procedure and protocols,” Eoin responded.

  Isobel frowned.

  Alanna rolled her eyes. “What Eoin means is that we did
talk to our superintendent about the two cases you found. He was concerned that more than one walking area was targeted. As we expected, he said the problem is that they are unreported.”

  “What’s he going to do?”

  Eoin looked studiously at his cup.

  Alanna glanced at him and said, “At the moment he can continue to give us the maximum officers because of the murder, and he is considering putting out a citywide alert to walkers … but in terms of investigating …”

  “What? He isn’t going to investigate?”

  Alanna glanced at Eoin again. He continued to look at his cup.

  “The problem is,” she said, “how can we follow leads if we don’t have the information officially?”

  “So what does that mean?”

  Alanna pulled a face.

  “It means,” Eoin said, “that some lines of enquiry that we might want to follow, like looking for similarities in the victims, or points of contact, are not open to us because they’re not on the record.”

  “What is official is this case of rape and murder,” Alanna said. “While the Super believes us and is going to give us the maximum latitude …”

  “Some lines of enquiry are not going to be open to the official investigation. Which means this man may not be caught and someone else may get hurt or killed.” Eoin threw himself out of the chair as he finished and, hands in pockets, started to pace up and down. “This is such bullshit!”

  Isobel looked from one to the other. “What can we do?”

  Eoin swung round. “There is no we – it’s us, me and Alanna.” He turned to Alanna. “And I can tell you now that I’m investigating what I believe is a serial rapist – that is what I’m doing. I don’t care what he says!”

  Alanna sat back in her chair. “You know as well as I do, Eoin, that the Super basically told us that he was going to give us as much latitude as he could. You know he’s on our side, the side of the women, the side of the city – but he’s also accountable for what he does and he has to justify his decisions to his superiors.”