“Then God knows how many victims he has.”
Isobel nodded.
Sarah swung away from her. “And no doubt all of them, like me, are afraid to say anything in case he hurts someone we love.”
Isobel bowed her head.
“So nobody can stop him.”
Isobel lifted her head. “The police want to. They’re trying but …”
“But they’ve only just found out about him. They didn’t even know he existed.”
“Yes.” Isobel took a deep breath. “The fact that you spoke to me, the facts you gave me, means they have some idea about him now.”
“Some idea?” Sarah looked at her. “You mean they don’t have much evidence?”
Isobel exhaled. “No.”
Sarah frowned. “The suit, that bloody suit.”
“Exactly.”
Sarah swung away. She exhaled loudly then turned back to Isobel. “What have they got?”
Isobel could feel the anger in Sarah’s voice. This was so different from the woman yesterday. “They had nothing except some theories but I have a recording from one woman and that has clarified things for them and I’ve been able to tell them the facts that you gave me. They understand the threats you’ve received.”
Sarah started pacing again, her head down.
Isobel sat back. She felt the activity was a good thing – there was anger and turmoil in that walk.
Sarah stopped, took a deep breath and then resumed with more control.
“I’ll do it.”
Isobel’s head snapped up and her eyes widened.
Sarah stood in front of her. “Like you said, anonymous. We can record it now. I want to help.”
Isobel could feel hope bubbling but she needed Sarah to be sure. “What about the kids?”
Sarah took a deep breath. “We’ll keep an eye on them. Nothing else is going to change. Hopefully he won’t know that I’ve even done this.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” She gestured towards the window. “Is your friend in the car involved in the investigation?”
“Yes, she’s helping me.”
“Tell her to come in.” Sarah was reinforcing her choice.
Isobel went to the car and collected Patricia.
They decided that, as in the case of Emer, the story should be recorded on Isobel’s phone so it could not be traced to Sarah. Pleased with this suggestion, Sarah recounted her story in more detail than previously. Patricia paled as she listened.
“You’ve remembered more,” Isobel said when she had finished.
Sarah grimaced. “Or now that I’ve admitted what happened I’m able to acknowledge more of it. It’s horrendous but I suppose I’ve been alone with this for months and even though it’s not any better, I’m no longer alone.”
Her eyes filled up and so did Isobel’s and Patricia’s. There were a few moments of silence.
Isobel said. “And this happened on the walk from the university towards Limerick City. Were you closer to the city or the university?”
She looked into the distance, then taking a deep breath said, “I could show you – that would help, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes, that would help,” Isobel said,
“So long as you both go with me and walk either side of me, I can show you.” She nodded, convincing herself. “Can we do it now?”
“Yes,” Isobel said. “That would be good.”
“I’ll have to tell my husband where I am, otherwise he’ll panic if he gets back from sports practice and I’m not here.”
“Of course.”
At the university, Isobel parked and they all got out.
Sarah swung around, taking in the scenery. “I haven’t been on this walk since it happened.”
“Are you doing OK?” Isobel asked.
Sarah linked her arms in both of theirs. “Better than I expected.”
“You’re so brave, Sarah,” Patricia said.
Sarah’s eyes filled with tears. Isobel squeezed her hand.
The women followed the river path. The water lay to the right and to the left was an assortment of fields.
Both Isobel and Patricia, not wanting to alarm Sarah, were surreptitiously making sure they were not being followed.
Eventually Sarah slowed and stopped. “It’s here.”
Once again Isobel saw a gate leading into a field.
“I always walked during the day when the kids were at school. I thought I would be safe then because it was daylight and there were often other people around – students and other walkers.”
“Did you see anyone that day, or any other day, acting suspiciously?” Patricia asked.
Sarah made a face. “No one suspicious, just the usual dog-walkers and runners, but no one of note.”
They walked over to the gate.
“Where were you in the field?” Isobel asked.
“When I came round I was lying there behind the ditch.”
“How far along the ditch?”
Sarah closed her eyes and shook her head. “That’s it. I can’t do any more.”
Isobel nodded and squeezed her hand. “You’ve been such a help. Thank you.”
Sarah turned and, pulling them closer to her, began to walk back towards the car. They let Sarah set the pace and they moved slowly. As they walked along Isobel could feel the grip on her arm lessening.
At the car Sarah said, “I’m glad I did that.”
When they pulled up outside Sarah’s house, her husband Steve was out on the drive before they had even got out of the car. He shepherded Sarah into the house.
Isobel and Patricia followed but stopped in the hall. Sarah looked drained and they both felt they should leave.
“What Sarah has told us is confidential,” Isobel told Steve. “But, to be on the safe side, be extra vigilant with the children.”
“We will,” he said.
Isobel and Patricia thanked Sarah and gently said goodbye.
In the car Patricia said, “You didn’t show her the plastic pieces.”
Isobel grimaced. “I know. Maybe I should have but I thought she had done enough. We can go back another day and do that.”
Patricia nodded. “She did really well.”
“Yes, she did.”
In bed that night Isobel found her mind full of all that had happened. When she fell asleep she dreamed that there were women standing along a path which wound through trees.
Some of their throats had red rings around them and they hoarsely called “Help me!”
Others were silent, hiding behind trees and peering out. They also had red rings on their throats.
All of the women had sad eyes. Isobel turned in a circle. There seemed to be so many of them.
Isobel moved towards the women behind the trees but they slipped away, concealing themselves until she could no longer see them.
She searched in vain but she couldn’t find them.
She called out comforting phrases and words of support and encouragement until her voice became hoarse. No one answered her.
Isobel woke with tears on her cheeks and a deep feeling of helplessness.
Chapter 17
Sunday 23rd June
At eight o’clock the next morning Isobel parked the car near the entrance to the walkway in Corbally and she and Patricia got out.
Isobel pulled her Nordic sticks out of the back.
“Do you find those good?” Patricia asked.
“Actually, I do. When I started using them a few months after surgery my left arm was still very weak but it’s much better now. Using the sticks helps my lymph flow.”
“Are you worried about tomorrow?”
Isobel sucked her lips in. “Yes. I’m afraid that it’s going to be like the last time. But, to be honest, thinking about the case and seeing the things other people are dealing with has helped me to stay calm. Don’t get me wrong, I’m nervous as hell but, well, I’m not the only one who has hard things to deal with.”
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sp; Patricia nodded.
“I do appreciate you coming over and being here for tomorrow,” Isobel said. “Just having someone around does help.”
“No problem. But what about your family, your parents and your brother and sister?”
“I can’t put them through this again. If it’s bad news then, of course, I’ll tell them but if it’s good news then they will be spared needless worry.”
Patricia squeezed Isobel’s arm.
“Come on. Let’s do the walk,” Isobel said.
“Don’t tell me where you found Michelle,” Patricia said as they strode off. “I want to do the walk as normal and see if I can pick out the place. I think it will help me get into the mind of the attacker.”
Isobel grimaced. “Do you want to be in his mind?”
“No, I don’t, but I want this guy caught.”
“OK …”
“It’s probably not a good idea but it’s all I’ve got at the moment.”
They walked further, Patricia turning her head and taking in the terrain on both sides of the path.
“I think we’re going to have to give this guy a name,” Patricia said a while later.
Isobel shook her head. “Any of the names I have for him are unrepeatable.”
Patricia continued looking around. “This bit has too many trees so no space for an attack and the trees are too thin to hide behind.” She turned to her left, taking in the view of the river. “I can see why people like to walk here. It is beautiful.”
Isobel smiled. “I know.”
They paced along. To the right there was an open field with some tall weeds.
Patricia said, “I don’t think this part is suitable either – too open, nowhere to hide. Am I right?”
“You said not to tell you.”
Patricia rolled her eyes.
A few moments later, she said, “Can I use your sticks for a bit to see what they’re like?”
Isobel smiled. “Sure.”
Patricia took a few faltering steps. “Oh my God! How do you use them?”
Isobel reached for the sticks and placing her right foot and left arm forward demonstrated a start position and then a number of steps. She walked back to Patricia and helped her start in the right position. Once moving, she managed to slowly mimic Isobel’s walk.
“This is harder than it looks.”
Isobel laughed. “I know. It took me a while to master it.”
“You make it look easy now.” Patricia handed back the sticks. “I can see how they would help your arm.”
They resumed their walk.
“I’ve noticed that a few of the walkers are pretty well covered up,” Patricia said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that with hoods or hats and sunglasses on, it would be hard to describe them later if you had to.”
Isobel missed a step. “You’re right. If they changed their clothing you wouldn’t know if you had seen them before.”
“Exactly.”
“It would be easy to frequently meet someone and not be aware of it.” Isobel blew out through her lips.
Patricia slowed. “This looks more like it.” She pointed ahead to where the path was overhung on both sides by trees. The hedges were thick with leaves.
There was a gateway on the right. Patricia leant over it. “Pretty good coverage here, a possibility.”
They walked a few more steps and Patricia checked out a gate on the left. She made a face. “Not enough coverage or space here.”
Isobel nodded.
Two more gates followed on the right side. At the second Patricia said, “I think this is a potential place. It is very like the site out in Castletroy. The trees make it a bit darker here even in sunlight. The hedge with all of those leaves provides coverage and there’s space here for the attack to take place.” She turned towards Isobel. “This is the most likely place so far.”
Isobel had paled. “This is the gate. Michelle’s body was over there.” She pointed into the field.
Patricia climbed on the gate and leant over. “Oh yes. I can see the yellow crime-scene tape in a circle on the ground.”
Isobel waited back from the gate.
Patricia stepped down from the gate and, when she turned and saw Isobel’s face, said, “I’m sorry, Isobel. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just trying to get a handle on this guy.” She pointed at the padlock on the gate. “Was that there when you found Michelle?”
Isobel frowned. “I don’t know.” She stared off into the distance, her mind replaying Tuesday’s events. “I climbed over the gate. I didn’t notice a padlock at all.”
“So, maybe that’s a case of closing the gate after the horse has bolted.” Patricia tapped her lip. “Or the last padlock was damaged in the attack and the farmer had to replace it.”
“We can check with Alanna and Eoin,” Isobel said. “I’ve just realised that I don’t know where Emer was attacked exactly. I mean, I know it was along this walk as well but I’m not sure if it was the same place. I’d better ask her.”
“Do you want to take some pictures for Emer to look at?”
“Good idea. She may not want to do the walk to show us.”
Patricia pulled out her phone and photographed the gate, the field and some views of the path. “Shall we go back?”
Isobel nodded. As they passed back between the corridor of trees Patricia took photographs of the other gates on the way.
They continued the walk back in silence, the weight of what had happened here pressing on both of them.
As they neared their starting point there was a break in the trees along the river. Framed between them was a stretch of the Shannon with a grey stone bridge with four arches, behind which lay the mountains of Clare.
Patricia stopped. “Oh that’s beautiful, the view is stunning.” She pulled out her phone once more and took some pictures as two swans sailed majestically by.
They moved on.
“I’ve been thinking,” said Patricia. “This feels like a similar sort of location.”
Isobel made a face.
Patricia counted on her fingers. “A walkway, a gate that he opens, a hedge to pull the women behind.”
Isobel nodded. “You think that he finds a location that works for him and then scopes out a victim?”
“Maybe. Let’s say that’s it – so who could he be?”
Isobel pursed her lips. “Another walker, a dog-walker, a jogger … em …”
“Someone who takes care of the walkways like a council worker?”
Isobel turned to Patricia. “That’s a very good idea.” She frowned. “I actually remember that there were men cutting the grass along the path one day when I was walking here.”
“They would definitely know about any convenient fields with hedges.”
“So you think the connection is the walks, that through exercise or work he knows the walks and then he finds the women? The women are people who are using the walkway. He sees them. He thinks they might be suitable and then he follows them, learns their routine and finds a time to attack.”
“Yes. Didn’t you tell me that Emer only walked one night a week by herself? He obviously knew that. He also knew that Sarah walked during the day.”
“How is this going to help?”
“Well, I think the angle of the council workers as potential suspects is worth looking into – you know, men who have worked on both walkways.”
Isobel nodded. They turned and walked back towards the car.
“OK, so that is the walk as a hunting ground,” said Isobel. “But what if it’s the women who are the deciding factor and once he has chosen them he finds a place that suits him to attack?”
“That makes sense too. The fact that I can walk here once and suss out a site means he didn’t have to be overly familiar with the path.”
“Good point.”
“From the photograph of Michelle Cavan, she was an attractive woman and so is Sarah.”
“Emer too.”
“What else do they have in common?”
Isobel slowed her strides. “They all exercised.”
Patricia stopped. “Maybe they have something in common there. As I said before, maybe they all bought their gear in the same place, or maybe they went to the same physio.”
“What about children?”
“I thought Emer had no children?”
“She doesn’t.”
“Most people have children. That’s hardly unusual. I think he just threatens someone they love to shut them up. He probably knew from watching Emer that she was close to her niece and nephew.”
“True. We need to compile a long list of things the women do that might bring them into contact with the same person.”
“Yes – like did they use the same masseuse? Did they all have orthotic insoles? At the moment, what the women have in common is that they were walkers – three women in two different areas of the city but walkers nonetheless. We need to see if there’s any other common ground.”
Isobel nodded. “Let’s go and see Emer. We can find out where she was attacked and we need to show her the pieces of material and see what she says.”
“And we need to start asking questions about her life too, lots of questions.”
Isobel frowned. “God, Patricia. Is it really fair, after all the help she has already given us, to go back with more questions?”
Patricia shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. It isn’t fair. But is it fair to other women, other potential victims, if we don’t at least give Emer the option?”
“Good point. But I don’t want to pressure her either.”
“It’s up to Emer to decide.”
“Yes. But before we go there, let’s get breakfast in Brekkie. The veggie breakfast is great.”
Patricia frowned. “I’m not a veggie.”
Isobel laughed. “I’m sure the full Irish breakfast is good too.”
Patricia grinned. “Now that sounds good to me.”
Chapter 18
It was 11 o’clock by the time they were at Emer’s front door. Ben opened in response to their ringing.
Broken Silence: A tense psychological thriller Page 10