by Tana French
Conway said, ‘This doesn’t mean Holly’s out.’
She didn’t say it the way she would have an hour or two before, a sideways eye checking me for a flinch or a flicker. Just said it. Eyes narrowed up at the school building, like it was daring her.
I said, ‘Right. Doesn’t rule out Julia, either, or the whole three of them: for all we know it was one to find the weapon, one to lure Chris to the grove, one to do the job when he had his mind on other things. All we know for sure is Rebecca’s in.’
‘Get anything else?’
After a moment I said, ‘That’s it.’
Conway’s face came round to me. ‘But what?’
‘But.’ I wanted to twist away from it, but she needed to know. ‘Joanne and them, they weren’t pleased when I said I had to head. They were trying to do something, I don’t even know what. Flirt with me, get me to stay. Something like that.’
‘Any touching?’
‘Yeah. Joanne put her finger on my leg. I talked them down, she took the hand away, I got the fuck out of Dodge.’
Conway watched me. ‘Is this you saying I shouldn’t have thrown you into the shark tank all on your ownio?’
‘No. I’m a big boy. If I hadn’t’ve wanted to talk to them, I wouldn’t have.’
‘’Cause I would’ve done it myself, if I could. But I’d have got nothing. It had to be you.’
Me, the perfect bait, whatever whoever wanted. ‘I know. I’m only telling you. I figure you should know.’
She nodded. ‘Don’t worry about it.’ She saw me shift, Easy for you to say. ‘Seriously. They won’t say anything. The amount we’ve got on them, they’d have to be mental to try and fuck with us. You think they want McKenna knowing about the diet pills? The sneaking out at night?’
‘They might not think that far.’
Conway snorted. ‘They’re experts on thinking that far. That’s what they do.’ More seriously, whatever she saw in my face: ‘They’re scary fuckers, but we’ve got them pinned down. OK?’
‘Yeah,’ I said. The way she said it – scary fuckers – like she knew, like she’d been there: that was what helped, more than the reassurance. ‘OK.’
‘Good.’ Conway clapped me on the shoulder. Awkward as a boy, but her hand felt strong and steady. ‘Fair play to you.’
I said, ‘It’s not enough. We’ve got enough to arrest Rebecca, but the DPP won’t charge her on this. If she doesn’t confess—’
Conway was shaking her head. ‘Not even enough for an arrest. If she was some skanger kid, then yeah, sure, haul her in and see how far we get. But a girl from Kilda’s? We arrest her, we have to be able to charge her. No ifs. Otherwise we’re fucked. O’Kelly’s gonna pop a vein, McKenna’s gonna pop a vein, the Commissioner’s phone’s gonna be ringing off the hook, the media’ll scream cover-up, and we’ll be sharing a desk in Records till we retire.’ That bitter curl to her mouth. ‘Unless you’ve got friends in high places.’
‘That was the best I’d got.’ I nodded upwards, towards the art room. ‘And I’d say that’s well scuppered now.’
That got part of a laugh. ‘Then we need more on Rebecca. And we need it fast. We have to get her in custody tonight, or we’re fucked. Julia and Holly, they’re both smart enough to figure out where this is going – if they don’t already know.’
I said, ‘Holly knows.’
‘Yeah. We leave the four of them together overnight, they’ll talk. We’ll come back tomorrow morning and they’ll have their stories all nice and matched up, butter won’t melt, they’ll have worked out exactly where to lie and where to keep their mouths shut. Not a chance in hell we’ll crack them.’
I said, ‘We won’t crack Holly now. She’s given us everything she’s going to.’
Conway was shaking her head again. ‘Forget her. And Selena. We need Julia.’
I remembered what she had said earlier: This year Julia’s watching us like we’re actual people, you and me. And then: I can’t work out if that’s gonna be a good thing or a bad one.
‘Mackey and Holly,’ I said. ‘Leave them where they are, yeah?’
‘Yeah. We might need them again, and we don’t want them running around getting in our way. If they don’t like it—’
This time we both froze. Only a few yards behind us, round the front of the boarders’ wing, someone’s foot had slid on pebbles.
Conway’s eyes met mine. She mouthed Mackey.
We moved fast and silent, swung round the corner together. The carriage sweep was wide and white, empty. The grass was bare. In the dark crack of the door, nothing moved.
Conway cupped a forearm round her eyes, blocking out the floodlights, and squinted into the trees. Nothing.
‘D’you know where Julia is?’
‘Didn’t see them. They’re not on the back lawn.’
She eased back into the shadow. Said, for no one farther than me, ‘They’ll be in that glade.’
We were both half-thinking about sneaking up on them, having a quick eavesdrop, see if they were talking hoes and texts and Chris. Not a hope. That pretty little woodlandy path, the one we’d walked that morning: the trees touching above it slashed the light to scraps, left us fumbling. We went crashing along like Land Rovers, twigs snapping, branches flapping, birds losing the head everywhere.
‘Jesus,’ Conway hissed, when I went in a bush up to my knee. ‘Did you never do Boy Scouts, no? Go camping?’
‘Where I’m from? No, I bleeding didn’t. You want me to hotwire a car, no problem.’
‘I can do that myself. I want some woodcraft.’
‘You want some posh bastard who went pheasant-shooting every—’ I caught my foot in something, shot forward flailing. Conway grabbed my elbow before I went on my snot. We snorted with giggles like a pair of kids, sleeves over our mouths, trying to glare each other silent.
‘Shut up—’
‘Fuck’s sake—’
Only made us worse. We’d gone giddy: the moon-stripes swirling the ground under our feet, the spin of rustles spreading out all around us; the hard weight of what we were going to have to do at the end of the path. I was only waiting to see Chris Harper leaping wide-mouthed like a wildcat off a branch in front of us, couldn’t tell if we’d scream like teenage girls or whip out our guns and blow his ghostly arse away—
‘State of you—’
‘Look who’s talking—’
Around a bend, out from under the trees.
Smell of hyacinths.
Up the little rise, in the clearing among the cypresses, the moonlight came down full and untouched. The three of them leaned shoulder to shoulder, legs curled among the bobbing seed-heads; for a second they looked like one triple creature that made my hair lift. Still as an old statue, as smooth and white and as blank-faced. Watching us, three pairs of bottomless eyes. We had stopped laughing.
None of them moved. The hyacinth-smell rose over us like a wave.
Rebecca, shoulder against Selena’s. Her hair was down and she was all patches of black and white, like an illusion. Like one blink would turn her into moonlight on grass.
Beside me Conway said, just loud enough to reach them, ‘Julia.’
They didn’t move. I had time to wonder what we would do if they never did; I knew better than to get any closer. Then Julia straightened, away from Selena’s side, brought her legs under her and stood up. She came down the rise to us without a glance at the others, came swishing through the hyacinths with her back straight and her eyes on something behind us. My neck itched.
Conway said, ‘Let’s walk down this way. We’ll only need a few minutes.’
She headed on down the path, deeper into the grounds. Julia fell into place behind her. The other two watched, side pressed to side, till I turned away. At my back, nearly made me leap, came the deep sigh of the cypress trees.
Even Julia’s walk was different, out here. No mocking arse-sway now; she took the path deft as a deer, barely shifted a twig. Like this was her territory, she could
’ve crept up on a sleeping bird and taken it in her hand.
Conway said, without looking over her shoulder, ‘I’m gonna assume Selena’s updated you. We know yous were getting out at night, we know she had something going with Chris, we know they’d split up. And we know you were meeting Chris. Right up until he died.’
Nothing. The path broadened out, wide enough for the three of us to walk abreast. Julia’s legs were shorter than ours, but she didn’t speed up; left us to slow to her pace or leave her behind, whichever. We slowed.
‘We’ve got your texts. On the special super-secret phone he gave Selena.’
Her silence felt unbreakable. She had put on a red jumper, no jacket, and the air was turning cold. She didn’t seem to notice.
Conway said, ‘Is that why Selena broke it off with Chris, yeah? We couldn’t work that out. Was it because she knew you were into him, didn’t want him getting between you?’
That got to Julia. ‘I was never into Chris. I have taste.’
‘Then what were you doing with him out here at midnight? Algebra?’
Silence, and her silent steps. Time running out was pounding at me: Rebecca waiting behind us, Mackey and Holly waiting above us, McKenna waiting to ring the bell that would end the day. Rushing this would only slow it down.
Conway said, ‘How many times did you meet him?’
Nothing.
‘If it wasn’t you, it was one of your mates. Had Selena got back together with him?’
Julia said, ‘Three times. I met him three times.’
‘Why’d you stop?’
‘He got killed. It put a damper on the relationship.’
‘Relationship,’ I said. ‘What kind?’
‘Intellectual. We talked world politics.’
The sarcasm was heavy enough to be all the answer we needed. Conway said, ‘If you weren’t into him, then why?’
‘Because. You never did anything stupid, when it came to guys?’
‘Plenty. Trust me.’ The quick look between the two of them startled me: a matched look like understanding, a wry edge of smile on Conway. Like we’re actual people. ‘But I always had a reason. A shite one, but it was there.’
Julia said, ‘It seemed like a good idea at the time. What can I say: I was dumber then.’
I said, ‘You were keeping him away from Selena. You knew he was trouble – you knew what he’d done to Joanne, knew Selena wasn’t strong enough to handle the same thing happening to her. Selena had broken it off with him, but you read her texts; you knew all Chris had to do was snap his fingers and she’d come running. So you had to make sure he didn’t snap them.’
‘You’re tougher than Selena,’ Conway said. ‘Tough enough to take whatever a fool like Chris could dish out. So you took the bullet for her.’
Julia walked, hands in her pockets. Watched something off in the trees ahead. The slice of her face I could see reminded me of Holly. That grief.
Conway said, ‘You think Selena killed Chris. Don’t you?’
Julia’s head snapped sideways like Conway had flicked her in the face. I hadn’t realised till I heard the words fall into the air. This was what Julia had been thinking, all day; all year.
And that was her out. Julia out, Selena out, Rebecca in. Holly flickering on the line.
Conway said, ‘We say we’re going to talk to Selena: bang, you throw us a stick to chase, send us dashing off after Joanne. I say maybe Selena had got back with Chris: bang, all of a sudden you’re talking to us, coming clean about meeting him. You wouldn’t need to protect her unless you thought she had something to hide.’
We were speeding up. Julia was walking faster, smashing twigs and rattling pebbles, not caring.
I said, ‘You think Selena found out you were hooking up with Chris. Is that it? She was so angry, or so jealous, or so gutted, she lost the head and killed him. That makes it your fault. So it’s up to you to protect her.’
Only a pace or two ahead of us, she was already smudging away into the dark, just the red slash of her jumper glowing. ‘Julia,’ Conway said, and stopped walking.
Julia stopped too, but the line of her back pulled like a leashed dog’s. Conway said, ‘Sit down.’
In the end Julia turned. A pretty little wrought-iron bench, overlooking tidy flowerbeds – closed up for the night, now, all the daytime colours and petal-flourishes turned in tight on themselves. Julia aimed for the end of the bench. Conway and I boxed her into the middle.
Conway said, ‘Listen to me. We don’t suspect Selena.’
Julia rolled her a look. ‘Uh-huh. I’m so reassured, I might need to fan myself.’
‘All our evidence says she hadn’t been in touch with Chris for weeks before he died.’
‘Right. Until you turn around and say, “Oops, actually, we’ve decided those texts were from her, not from you! Sorry!”’
‘Bit late for that,’ I said. ‘And we’ve had a lot of practice figuring out when people are lying. We both think Selena’s telling us the truth.’
‘Great. Glad to hear it.’
‘So if we believe her, why don’t you? She’s meant to be your mate; how come you think she’s a murderer?’
‘I don’t. I think she’s never done anything worse than talking during study period. OK?’
The defences shooting up in Julia’s voice, I’d heard those before. That was when it clicked: the interview in her room that afternoon, that note in her voice, something left snagged in my mind. I said, ‘You’re the one who texted me.’
Off Chris’s phone.
Her profile tightening. She didn’t look at me.
‘To tell me where Joanne kept the key to the connecting door. That was you.’
Nothing.
‘You said to us, this afternoon: When you found out about Joanne’s key, she turned it around on me. If anyone had told you about her and Chris, she’d have got back at them the same way. Meaning Joanne was getting back at you for telling us about the key.’
I got one corner of Julia’s eye. It said, Good catch. Now prove it.
Conway turned on the bench, pulled up one leg so she could face Julia straight on. ‘Listen. Selena’s in bad shape. You know that. You thought it was because she couldn’t handle being a killer, had to hide in cloud-cuckoo land. It’s not that. You want me to swear? I’ll swear on anything you want: it’s not.’
She said it clear and warm, the way she’d have said it to a friend, a best friend, to her closest sister. She was holding out a hand and beckoning Julia to cross that river. Go from the lifelong-familiar side where grown-ups were faceless mentallers trying to wreck everything, no point trying to understand them, over to this new strange place where we could talk face to face.
Julia looking at Conway. Things moving across her face said she knew the crossing was one-way. That you can never tell who’ll still be beside you, on the other side, and who’ll be left behind.
I kept quiet. This was theirs. I was outside.
Julia took a long breath. She said, ‘You’re sure. It wasn’t her.’
‘We don’t suspect her. You’ve got my word.’
‘Lenie’s not just naturally crazy, though. You don’t know her; I do. She wasn’t like this before Chris got killed.’
Conway nodded. ‘Yeah, I know. But what’s wrecking her head isn’t that she killed him. It’s that she knows something she can’t handle. She’s spacing out so she doesn’t have to deal with it.’
It was getting colder. Julia pulled her jumper tight at her neck. She said, ‘Like what?’
‘If we knew, we wouldn’t need to be having this conversation. I’ve got ideas, no proof. All I can tell you for sure is: you’re not gonna get Selena in hassle by telling me the truth. I swear. OK?’
Julia tugged her sleeves down, the pale smudges of her hands vanishing into the red. She said quietly, ‘OK. I texted you about the key.’
Conway said, ‘How’d you know where Joanne and them kept it?’
‘I’m the one who gave her the i
dea about the book.’
I said, ‘And the one who gave her the key.’
‘You make it sound like it was her birthday present. Actually, they saw us heading out one night, and Joanne said she’d tell McKenna what bad girls we’d been if we didn’t make her a copy of the key. So I did.’
‘And gave her advice on where to keep it?’ Conway raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re very helpful altogether.’
Julia matched the eyebrow. ‘When someone could get me expelled, yeah, I am. She wanted to know where we kept ours, which I wasn’t going to tell her because fuck the bitch—’
‘Which was where? While we’re at it.’
‘Down the inside of my phone case. Simple, and it was always on me. Like I said, though, I wasn’t about to give the Heifer Heffernan any more than I had to. So I told her the only way to be safe was to keep it in the common room, so if it got found no one could connect it to her, right? I was like, “Pick a book no one ever reads. Who’d you do your saint essay on?” – the common rooms are all full of saint biogs, no one ever looks at them except once a year for essays, and we’d just handed ours in. She went, “Thérèse of Lisieux. The Little Flower” – she actually got this holy face on, like that somehow made her into Joanne of Lisieux.’ Conway was grinning. ‘So I went, “Perfect. No one’s going to look at the book again till at least next year. Stick the key in there, you’re sorted.”’
‘And you figured she’d taken your word for it?’
‘Joanne has zero imagination, except about herself. No way could she have come up with a place. Anyway, I checked. I thought it might come in useful.’
‘And it did,’ Conway said. ‘How come you decided to tell us?’
Julia hesitated. The small noises all around were moving deeper into night: flurries in leaves said hunting, the laughter from the lawn was long gone. I wondered how little time we had. Didn’t look at my watch.
I said, ‘The interviews, earlier on. Did Selena come out of hers upset?’
After a moment: ‘I mean, she wouldn’t have looked upset to most people. Just spacy; well, spacier than usual. But that is upset, for Selena. That’s how she gets.’
I said, ‘You were afraid we’d shaken her up enough that she might let something slip, maybe even confess. You needed us looking in another direction, at least till you could get her settled down again. So you threw us Joanne’s key, to keep us occupied. And it worked. You’ve got a gift for this, you know that?’