by Alex Barclay
Shaun went over to Frank, his eyes pleading. Frank shook his head and put a hand on Shaun’s shoulder.
‘I don’t think that would be a good idea,’ he said. ‘Maybe you should wait at home in case she rings. I bet you’ll be the first one she rings.’
‘I have my cell phone,’ said Shaun.
‘That’s not a huge amount of use to you, with the coverage once we head out of the village,’ said Frank.
‘Go home, son,’ said Joe, coming up beside him.
‘I don’t know what you’re all so worried about,’ said Shaun, his voice rising. ‘What do you think we’re going to find?’
‘Probably nothing at all,’ said Frank.
‘But it’s just best that you’re not around,’ said Joe. Shaun walked away. Frank turned around to talk to D.I. O’Connor.
Joe took the chance to search his pockets for painkillers. He had nothing. He considered his options. He couldn’t walk away in front of all these people. Then he felt someone squeeze his arm. He vaguely recognised one of the elderly women from outside the village. Joe waited for the question. He was more patient than he used to be. The intrusion had amazed him when they first moved.
‘How’s the young lad?’ asked the woman, nodding towards Shaun. Her face looked more accusing than concerned, but he suspected it had set that way years ago. The best he could do was nod through the pain, trying to let her know Shaun was doing OK. She still waited for him to speak.
‘Is there any word on the little girl at all?’ she asked.
He shook his head and murmured a ‘Mm-mm,’ his usual refuge at times like this.
The woman tutted in disgust. He had seen it all before.
‘I’ve said a prayer to St Jude,’ she said as she walked away. He frowned, irritated. He knew St Jude was the patron saint of lost causes.
He turned back to Frank who reached into his pocket and without looking, handed him some ibuprofen. Joe knocked them back with purple fizzy caffeine.
Frank turned and faced his group, which included Joe. ‘Right, we’re taking the central part of the village, from Seascapes, around by the shops, back down to the harbour and up again toward Shore’s Rock.’
About forty people moved into rows and walked slowly up to the holiday homes. In the bright afternoon, the densely packed trees cast black shadows across the drive. Joe was at the edge of the line and almost fell over a little boy crouched behind a sycamore. His eyes widened when he saw Joe.
‘I’m hiding,’ he said in a loud whisper. He put a finger up to his lips and pointed towards his parents who were packing up a station wagon in front of one of the houses.
‘Oh,’ said Joe. ‘But that might really scare your mom and dad. I’m sure they’d be real sad if they couldn’t find you.’ He looked through the trees and noticed a light on in the landing of the last house, the odd glow of a bulb in daylight. There was no car in the drive.
‘I don’t want to go home,’ said the boy sadly.
‘That’s a real pity,’ said Joe. ‘I’m gonna go over and say hi to your mom and dad. Do you wanna come?’
The boy shook his head furiously. Joe told the man next in line to him that he had to check something.
He walked up to the couple. ‘Don’t look now, but your little guy is in the trees right behind me. I’ve been sworn to secrecy.’
The parents looked at each other and rolled their eyes. ‘We’ll kill him.’
‘Have you been here all weekend?’ said Joe.
‘Yup,’ said the woman. ‘But it’s still not long enough for Owen.’
‘You didn’t happen to see anyone in that last house, did you?’ asked Joe, pointing.
‘No. You actually notice the cars coming in and out here. It’s so quiet,’ said the man.
‘Or you’d see the headlights,’ added his wife. ‘We’ve been in every night.’ She nodded towards their son.
‘OK. Just curious,’ said Joe. ‘Safe trip. Good luck getting him into the car.’
Joe rejoined the group for the walk through the village towards Shore’s Rock. Every now and then, the whistle would blow, everyone would stop and a guard would collect whatever had been found. Then the line would move along again in silence until they reached the gate to the lighthouse.
‘It’s getting dark,’ said Frank. ‘And the forest is dark enough as it is, so we’re going to have to postpone the rest of this. Thank you all for taking part.’
Richie’s group had returned earlier and he was at the station when Frank walked in.
‘Did you find anything?’ he asked.
‘Not a thing,’ said Frank. ‘Certainly nothing I think will amount to anything. What about yourself?’
‘No,’ said Richie. ‘Mind you, every scrap of rubbish that has been dropped anywhere along the way was pointed out to me. Sweet wrappers I hadn’t seen since I was a kid. Kitty Tynan spiked a used condom on a stick and waved it in my face. How far did you get?’
‘We stopped at the lighthouse.’
‘I can organise a posse to do the forest tomorrow or whenever.’
‘Check with O’Connor, but that sounds good to me.’
Frank shook his head. ‘Poor Katie will probably be back tonight, laughing at all this, mortified that the whole village was traipsing around looking for her.’
Shaun lay on the sofa in front of the TV, the remote control in his outstretched arm, speeding through the channels over and over.
‘Were you working this weekend?’ said Joe.
‘Not since Thursday night. Why?’
‘Were any of the houses booked?’
‘Just three. For the weekend.’
‘Which ones?’
‘Why are you asking?’
‘You left a light on.’
‘What?’ Shaun’s heart started to pound.
‘The one at the end. Unless someone’s in it. But I guess you wouldn’t have been working on it unless it’s being rented out.’
‘There’s no-one in it. But I didn’t leave the light on.’
‘Well, it’s on, so somebody did. Is Mrs Shanley still away?’
‘Dad, who cares?’
‘Would you mind taking a look?’
‘I’ve got other things on my mind right now.’
‘I can go.’
‘I’ll go. It’s my job. But there’s no light on.’
‘I’ll take a walk with you.’
‘Look, I’m fine. I’ll go on my own, OK?’
‘I’ll come with you.’
‘Well, I’m going to have a shower first.’
‘That’s OK. Let me know when you want to go.’
Shaun rushed to his bedroom, picked up the phone and called Robert.
‘Rob, I need you to do me a big favour.’
‘No problem.’
‘No questions asked. And you can’t tell anybody.’
‘OK. What?’
‘Can you get over here and stand under my window, so I can throw you down something?’
‘Okaaay. Why? Is this about Katie? Do you know where she is?’
‘No, I don’t. It’s just I need you to sort something out for me. I’ll drop you down the keys to Seascapes and if you could go in to number fifteen, the one at the end, turn off the light and bring me back the keys.’
‘OK. Why?’
‘Mrs Shanley’s away. I left a light on on Thursday night, the next guests might be charged on the meter. I don’t want her giving out to me. I’m too fucked up about Katie to do it myself.’
‘That’s fair enough.’
‘Just don’t let my dad see you.’
‘What’s he got to do with it?’
‘You know parents.’
‘Yeah. What time?’
‘Right now.’
Ray rang the doorbell at the house. Anna eventually came out.
‘I didn’t want to bother you, but it’s just about the lantern house, the rust and stuff. I don’t know are you interested in having a look or, you know…’
�
�Just one second,’ she said and reached in to grab her jacket.
She jogged across the grass and walked up the lighthouse steps, climbing the ladder into the lantern house. The walls had been completely stripped back to bare metal. Some of it was badly rusted.
‘It looks so different,’ said Anna. ‘Very dark.’
‘I know,’ said Ray. ‘The stuff really worked. It got all the layers of paint off, no problem. Now we can repaint the whole thing white, brighten it up. But we really need to get rid of a couple of the panels. You can see the rust. So, will I go ahead and replace them?’
‘That would be great,’ said Anna. ‘Thanks so much. I really appreciate all the hard work. Tell Hugh, too. I’m sorry I’m too tired to be more enthusiastic.’
‘Weird,’ said Joe. ‘I could have sworn.’ He was in the hall, leaning against the banister looking up at the landing light he knew had been on in the house at the end of the Seascapes cul-de-sac.
‘It could have been the sun,’ said Shaun. ‘You know the way.’
‘I’m not buying that,’ said Joe. ‘I saw it, on.’ He walked up the stairs and flicked the light on and off. ‘So you definitely haven’t been here since Thursday?’
‘I was out on Friday, Dad. And that was with Katie. And now she’s gone. I was in all last night worrying about her. You saw me. So that’s what I’m thinking about. Not about answering stupid questions from you that make no sense. So what if there was a light on?’ He opened the front door. ‘C’mon, Dad, this is retarded.’
Petey was pushing his mop awkwardly back and forth along the floor of the canteen, his first job every Monday morning. Frank came up behind him.
‘Hello, Petey. I just have a few questions for you if you have a minute. I’m doing the rounds.’
Frank saw the fear in Petey’s eyes when he noticed the clipboard with his name and details across the top of a questionnaire.
‘It’s about Katie Lawson.’
Petey flushed and stared at the ground. He rocked the handle of the mop back and forth.
‘I heard she’s gone missing,’ said Petey. He shook his head. ‘It’s awful.’
‘Yes,’ said Frank. He waited. ‘What do you know about Katie?’
‘That she goes out with Shaun Lucchesi and she’s in the school here.’
‘Yes, well the last time she was seen was on Friday night just gone. You didn’t see her or anything on Friday night, did you?’
‘No,’ said Petey, looking down and blushing. ‘I was at home. I don’t really go out.’
Frank felt a surge of pity.
‘Look at me,’ he said. ‘Was your mother with you in the house?’
‘No. She was out at bridge. Then she came back home very late with her friend, Mrs Miller. She stayed the night at our house.’
‘What were you doing when they were out?’
‘Watching TV. Watching Discovery. An amazing programme. About the Fastnet race disaster of 1979. Between August 13 and August 15, a force eleven—’
‘Petey, tell me about Katie. Did you like her at all?’ Frank struggled to get eye contact with him.
‘She was a nice girl. I got on well with her.’ Petey turned his head away and blinked back tears. Frank patted him on the back. Petey flinched.
‘It’s OK,’ said Frank. ‘Thanks for your help. We’ll get back to you if we need to.’ He stopped around the corner to write a note across the bottom of the page.
Richie stood stiffly on the stage, his legs spread, his arms folded across his chest. He looked out on the small group of teenagers that made up the secondary school. Frank slipped in the side door.
‘Good morning, everyone,’ said Richie. One of the boys from the football team stifled a laugh, then followed it with a loud cough. Anger flickered briefly across Richie’s face.
There was a part of Frank that thought Richie would be more respected because he was younger, closer to the kids’ ages. But another part of him understood how he wasn’t. Richie had never been able to strike a balance between authority and severity.
‘I came in today to talk to you all about Katie Lawson,’ Richie continued. ‘As you know, Katie is a fifth year student here. She went missing last Friday night and we haven’t heard from her since.’
Nervous energy ran through the crowd. They looked around for a reaction from Shaun, but he had been excused for the day.
‘So if any of you know anything,’ said Richie, ‘anything at all, however insignificant or irrelevant it may seem, please talk to myself or Frank.’ He nodded towards the wall where Frank stood. Some of the students smiled over at him. A few waved. Richie paused, then went on. ‘As well as some detectives from Waterford, we’ll be calling to houses around the area over the coming day or two, so you can catch us then as well. And, of course, anything you tell us will be treated in the strictest confidence. Thank you.’
Joe was standing in Tynan’s buying USA Today when a stack of Evening Heralds landed on the floor beside him. For a moment, he was confused by the familiarity of the face under the front page headline. NO CLUES IN SEARCH FOR MISSING TEENAGER. He broke the binding and slid out the second copy. Kitty Tynan wouldn’t take any money for it. ‘They don’t waste their time, do they?’ she said. ‘They even have a photo of the search. I didn’t even know they were there.’
‘Yeah, I saw the guy,’ said Joe. ‘And a journalist asking questions. Some people talked to him.’
‘But it’s never the ones closest to the families,’ said Kitty.
‘Never is,’ said Joe.
Joe went to a bench by the harbour and read the article about the tragic disappearance of schoolgirl Katie Lawson and the concern of anonymous neighbours.
Anna stood in the kitchen at the chopping board, with a pile of sliced onions in front of her. She had stopped to watch the sun set.
Joe walked in, frowning, pressing his jaws with his thumb and middle finger. Then he used both hands to massage the area above his eyebrows.
Anna turned around. ‘Not again.’
He nodded and pulled open the medicine drawer.
‘That can’t be right,’ said Anna, pointing to the decongestants. ‘No-one takes those for that long.’
He shrugged, then knocked back the decongestants with two prescription painkillers and a glass of water. He tapped his watch and pointed towards the sitting room. He lay down on the sofa and waited for the effects to hit. The pain had intensified in the last year. He had seen doctors in New York that between them had diagnosed sinusitis, earache and the standard stress they threw out when they read his job description. One young doctor suggested yoga. Joe would have laughed out loud if he thought his jaw wouldn’t shatter. He was happy to walk away with a script for painkillers. Anna was putting him under pressure to see a specialist in Dublin, but he hadn’t got around to it and he used the breaks from the pain to slip into denial.
After half an hour, he walked back into the kitchen. ‘I forgot to say to you – what the hell is wrong with that guy, Miller?’
‘John Miller?’ said Anna, throwing the onions into a hot pan.
‘Yeah, the alco.’ He slid his lower jaw back and forth.
‘Why do you ask?’ she said, going back to the window.
‘He was saying some weird shit to me in Danaher’s the other night.’
‘Like what?’ she said, slicing into a red pepper.
‘He was giving me a hard time, saying stuff about you. Have you met him or something?’ Anna looked at him.
‘He’s John,’ she said patiently. ‘I told you. The John I went out with when I was here the first time?’
‘Oh,’ said Joe. ‘What happened there?’
‘I left for New York, he ended up in Australia,’ said Anna. ‘You were grinding your teeth during the night, by the way. I tried to wake you up, but you just turned over and kept going.’
‘How long were you and this Miller guy together?’
‘Eight months.’
‘Oh. Must have been pretty intense.’
>
Anna said nothing. She kept chopping.
‘So was it you who drove him to drink? My baby break his heart?’ asked Joe, standing behind her, wrapping his arms around her, kissing the back of her neck.
Anna smiled.
‘I don’t think so, somehow,’ she said.
‘Could have,’ said Joe, teasing.
‘Can you bring up a Merlot?’ she said.
‘Sure,’ he said, walking out the door and down to the cellar.
Anna put down the knife, closed her eyes and breathed out.
EIGHT
Stinger’s Creek, North Central Texas, 1981
Geoff Riggs lay on his back on the sticky carpet, his right arm bent high above his head. A grey T-shirt rode up his chest, exposing his pale, hairy stomach. Donnie rushed in as he had done so many times before, shaking his satchel from his shoulder, sliding it down his arm to the floor. He fell on his knees beside his father and put his ear to his heart. Then he pushed up each of his eyelids with his thumbs. He never knew what he was looking for when he did this, never knew what would be a dangerous thing to see. He rolled his father onto his side, then stood up and scanned the room. The TV was on mute. He took the remote control and turned the volume up loud. Then he threw it on the sofa, quickly grabbed his satchel and went back out into the porch. Geoff came to, his right arm dead, his neck rigid. He twisted it slowly, then brought his arm down to his side.