‘Actually, that’s not the way it happened at all,’ Conor said, putting his hand up from under the bed.
Jo’s stare moved from Dan to Conor to Liz before settling back on Dan. She watched him hang on her decision as she made up her mind. ‘That’s what it looks like to me, too. Open and shut. Some cases are better that way, end of.’
Liz put down the gun. Conor rolled out from under the bed, and Dan bent down to retrieve the gun before helping Liz to her feet.
Wednesday
68
‘WHERE DO YOU want me to start?’ Derek asked Liz. He’d been moved out of intensive care and into a high-dependency unit, where Liz visited him first thing the following morning. He was propped up against pillows. In a chair alongside his bed, the heat of the ward was making Liz feel groggy herself. She’d slept soundly for the first time in months, and attributed that to the heavy dose of barbiturates still in her system. Derek cupped his hand over hers on the bed.
‘Start with where you were all day Monday, after you left the hospital,’ she answered, slipping their linked hands on to her lap.
Derek glanced around uncomfortably. ‘I thought the only way to get Mervyn and his crew away from you and Conor was to disappear. I thought if I brought the phone, they’d have some cop on their payroll who’d tip them off. So I left it in the hospital. I needed to make Amanda’s basement ready for you and Conor to move in. I thought once you two were safe, I could lure Mervyn out and make it look like he’d been killed in a gangland slaying. I bought a gun from one of the men who used to work in Mervyn’s Meats and was none the wiser about me being sacked. But I made the mistake of telling Tom about what I was going to do, thinking he’d supply me with Mervyn’s whereabouts. Instead he double-crossed me, just like he tried to blame the porn he downloaded on me. He told Mervyn where I was.’
‘Tom’s not who we thought he was.’
‘Who is? Amanda thought I was the one blackmailing her.’
‘Paul was blackmailing her too?’
‘He’d threatened to tell her boyfriend’s wife about them. She presumed it was me because I’d sussed the affair when I’d worked with Tim on the restoration job. He was her plumber back then.’
‘No wonder she was vindictive enough to send the letter warning the department not to pay out.’
Liz poured herself a glass of water from a jug sitting on Derek’s locker and sipped. ‘How did Ellen know where to find Amanda on Friday night?’
‘She’d tagged her location on one of the social-networking sites. I had gone to town anyway to meet Ellen because she’d been in touch to tell me she was home for the first time in twenty years and wanted to talk. I thought she’d want to talk about how we’d break the news to you. But she wanted to know who else knew that she was alive. I explained nobody, except Amanda, and I told her why. I needed a lawyer to tell me if I could face prosecution over my role in helping Ellen to flee all those years ago – if I was going to go to prison for wasting police time. I thought I was entitled to some free advice from Amanda because she still owed me money. Ellen wanted us to go and persuade Amanda to come to her hotel room where we could talk properly, but I didn’t want to see Amanda because of the way she’d treated me earlier. She was even trying to contact me on Friday night to continue the row. Ellen already knew that Amanda was right around the corner from where we were. “Four-squared” was the app she used to explain how she’d found it on Amanda’s Facebook site.’
He winced. Liz could see how much pain he was still in. He’d had a major kidney infection on top of an internal bleed, and that had caused his collapse. According to the doctors, he was lucky to be alive.
‘Ellen promised me she was going to contact you,’ he went on. ‘She asked me for some more time to get her head around it. She said she only needed twenty-four hours. I agreed. She asked me for a car to get around in, just to make a quick trip to see all the old places and put her demons to rest. I drove her to your car, and gave her the spare key that was on my key ring. She asked me if I’d ever heard of a journalist called Paul Bell. I couldn’t believe that she knew him, and she couldn’t believe it when I said he used to live right next door, but that his house was empty now.’
Liz dropped her hand and crossed her arms. ‘Why didn’t you tell me Ellen was alive? You know what I went through. How could you not have told me?’
‘Every day that passed it got harder. I thought you’d never forgive me for what you’d already been through. I couldn’t risk losing you. I was trying to get her to tell you. I thought it would be better that way. I was glad when she said she was going to tell the truth. I never trusted her, though. I always thought your life would be better without her in it.’
‘Did you know what she was doing?’
‘No, of course I didn’t. The only reason I ever contacted her was for you. She gave me an email address to stop me phoning.’
‘Why did you wash your clothes on Monday morning?’
‘Ellen had a bad cut on her arm, and I got blood on them helping her with a new bandage. I didn’t want to have to explain to you whose blood it was.’
He paused. ‘How are you coping with it all?’
Liz shrugged. ‘How can I grieve for someone who I thought was dead, and who wanted to kill my son, my husband, and me? I was overwhelmed when I saw her alive. It’s not every day that the sister you presumed was gone for good shows up. How am I? I’m still here to tell the tale. I’m sorry for hitting your head and wanting to kill you. If it’s any consolation, I wouldn’t have been able to go through with it. And I’m wondering if Conor’s condition means that by some miracle he’s managed to skip the prospect of lasting damage as a result of what he’s been through.’
Derek reached for her hand again. She gave it. ‘I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark,’ he said. ‘I thought I was doing what was best. I mean it.’ A pause. ‘Don’t leave me. They’re offering us a new life in Australia on the witness-protection programme. I won’t go without you and Conor.’
‘How would we sell the house when nobody’s buying?’
‘The state would buy it.’
‘Really?’
He nodded.
‘But what about his scholarship?’
‘They’d pay for that, too. Anything that we had lost or were about to lose as a result of the move is covered. So there’d be no pressure on Conor to get the scholarship. We’d have our choice of school out there.’
Liz felt the weight on her shoulders start to lift. ‘What about Jeff, his friend?’
‘It’s a virtual world, Liz. I bet they can work out a way to outwit the bad guys and stay in touch.’
‘If we were going to start anew, I would need to change one thing about us.’
‘What’s that?’
‘I don’t want to spend the rest of my life hiding who Conor is. I want to be able to talk about him to you without feeling like you think he’ll grow out of it.’
‘I wouldn’t change a hair on his head. If the hospital rang me and told me there’d been a mix-up at birth and that they’d given me someone else’s baby, I wouldn’t be able to exchange him for my own blood. He’s the heart of me.’
Liz eyes began to fill. ‘We’ve been under so much stress. I need to stop beating myself up about whether it was something I did, or some problem with the pregnancy, or because I got him the six-in-one jab, or didn’t love him enough when he was little.’
‘You know what I think?’ Derek said. ‘There are so many parents in the same boat as us, maybe the species is just evolving because it’s a virtual world. Who needs language now we can witness everything first-hand?’
‘I love you,’ Liz said.
‘Does that mean we can still be a family?’ Derek asked.
‘No more secrets?’
‘I promise.’
‘I’m sorry I believed you could have hurt anyone, and I’m so sorry I hurt you.’
Liz leaned across the bed to kiss Derek just as Conor entered from the corridor
. ‘Ahem,’ he said loudly, making them both laugh.
69
ALL THE TALK about Ellen Lamb’s career had put Maura to the forefront of Sexton’s mind again. He’d come to Deansgrange, the graveyard where Maura had been buried. It was the first time he’d been back since her funeral. After walking around for the guts of an hour, he knelt on his hunkers in front of the headstone, staring at it in shock. Firstly, because there was a headstone there at all, which he hadn’t ordered or paid for – the last time he’d been here was for her funeral, and then he’d only had time to arrange for a modest wooden cross. The other thing causing his jaw to constrict was the sight of the name ‘Patricia’ engraved on the granite. That was the name at the bottom of her suicide note, too – but it wasn’t her real name, and was the reason he’d become so convinced in the three years since that she hadn’t taken her own life. His eyes dropped to the other details on the inscription. The information about the woman he’d married and buried in this spot was correct. The surname was right, and the birth and death dates. The surviving family members’ names were correct, too, but, for the life of him, he could not work out what the hell was going on.
Water from the supermarket flowers he’d bought on the way spilled down on to his shoes.
‘Shit!’
He jumped up and rubbed the toe of each on the back of the opposite trouser leg.
‘Sorry, love.’ She’d always hated him cursing. Maura only ever used ‘fudge’ and ‘sugar’ when she got stressed. She didn’t drink alcohol, either. She was a bloody saint.
It must have been Esther, her mother, who’d commissioned the stone, he decided, leaning forward and placing the bouquet carefully on the pebbled surface, rubbing his hands together.
The water had soaked through to his socks. Bloody chilblains to look forward to on top of everything else, he thought. What the fuck was going on? he wondered as his teeth started to chatter. It had always been biting cold in this cemetery, at every funeral he’d ever been to here. Today’s squall carried a fine drizzle, adding nicely to the sense of gloom.
He stared out over the sea of gravestones. Maybe it was the exposure to the elements that did it. The graveyard had no natural barriers. Maybe it was all the marble, or maybe it was just too many bones. Whichever way, the place was depressing as fuck.
‘I brought you those,’ he said to the grave. ‘Cheapo, like the plonk and the chocolates I always got you. I don’t know why, because I’d have given you anything you wanted – you know that, don’t you? So where did those other ones come from?’
He scratched at his stubble as he realized that Maura’s grave was also looking very well maintained. His gaze moved over the shrubs evenly spaced in pots. New, all of them. There was even one of those eternal candle thingies burning away under her name. He knelt down and picked it up, and turned it upside down for a closer look. It was powered by a battery, screwed in by a little nub that could only have been there twenty-four hours, based on the level of rain there’d been the day before. No way would it still have been lighting after that. He put it in his trouser pocket, trying to make sense of everything.
The flaw in his theory was that Maura’s mother, Esther, always got in touch when she came down for a visit. She lived up in Belfast. She’d been down four times that he knew of – for the funeral and the anniversaries. Each time, he’d met her at the train station and had driven her here, declining to go to the grave itself, which he found too painful. He’d brought her for a little meal and brandy afterwards. But she’d have mentioned buying a headstone, wouldn’t she? Anyway, only family were allowed to erect headstones, he was sure. Esther was the closest thing to a mother Sexton had had himself; his own had passed away years back when he’d been just a kid. He’d even let the old dear have a little cry on his shoulder.
The last time she’d asked him ‘Why?’ as she always did at every meeting. Maura hadn’t been depressed, that anyone knew. She’d had plans for the day, for her life. It wasn’t that she hadn’t had friends. Just that most of them were hippies travelling the world, and unable to get in contact easily, or get back home because they were too broke.
He pulled out his phone, flicked it open, and dialled Esther’s number, pacing away from the graveside as he did so. He needed to think on his toes during this conversation so as not to set off any alarm bells. Esther picked up straight away, as he’d expected. She didn’t really go anywhere any more.
‘Hello, Gavin. I’ve been meaning to ring. Thanks for everything on the anniversary, love. You made it so much easier.’
Her voice was wobbling already. He was sorry he’d rung.
‘I’ve been better, Esther, to tell you the truth. I’m here at Maura’s grave now. That’s why I’m calling …’
He heard Esther draw a difficult breath on the other end.
‘The headstone … when did you … It’s just, I want to contribute. I would have done it. I just hadn’t got my head around it yet.’
‘What headstone?’
Sexton fell silent. He stopped in his tracks ten-odd graves from Maura’s now, his back to it, pressing the space between his eyes.
‘There’s a headstone on Maura’s grave where the cross used to be. Are you telling me you had nothing to do with erecting it?’ he asked.
‘No, of course I didn’t. I’d have asked you about anything like that. Who put it up?’
Sexton rubbed a hand over his face, trying to think of a way to backtrack. He didn’t want Esther to get all alarmed. She was the type who’d be on the next train, and that was the last thing he needed at the moment. He started snapping his fingers. ‘Sorry … sorry … it’s coming back to me now. I did order it. So long ago, I just forgot, that’s all,’ he lied. ‘You know me, head like a sieve. I promise I’ll ring you back tonight, when I’ve got my head straight. Sorry for worrying you.’
After some more cajoling, Esther calmed down.
‘One last thing, doll, before I let you go …’
‘What is it?’
‘Did Maura mention wanting to be called Patricia again before, you know?’
Esther sighed. ‘Why would she want to be called that? Why do you ask? What’s going on, Gavin? You’re making me nervous. Please tell me. I won’t be able to sleep trying to work it out.’
‘It’s just something one of her friends said. I’ll talk to you about it properly when you get down.’ He’d have to, he realized, if she came to Dublin, she’d want to know why that was the name engraved on the headstone as soon as she saw it.
‘She never meant to do it,’ Esther said suddenly, breaking down, ‘it was all a terrible, terrible accident.’
Sexton paused. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, I keep having this dream. I can see her as clear as day. It’s so sad because I can’t remember her face when I’m awake. I look at photographs and I ask myself why I didn’t notice a freckle, or the way she’d changed her hair. In this dream she says to me, “Mam, I didn’t want to go.”’
Sexton exhaled. ‘I’ve got to go, doll. I’ll ring you soon as I can. Try not to worry.’
He hung up, put the phone back in his pocket and turned to head back the distance to his wife’s grave. What he saw made him stop in his tracks. A man was kneeling down, polishing the headstone with a cloth, and there was a new flickering red candle light where the old one had been.
Epilogue
Jo couldn’t see a thing through the steam in the shower. Dan liked it extra hot, and she listened as the sound of his footsteps crossed the adjoining bedroom. Harry was asleep. Rory was in school.
Jo had learned a lesson she wouldn’t forget about delegating. Other officers were preparing criminal files for the DPP on George, and the McLoughlins. The drug squad were pursuing their case against Mervyn and his cronies. Baby Hope was gaining strength by the minute. Niall Toland had been captured on CCTV in a florists purchasing the flowers that Paul Bell delivered and sealing their fate. Paul Bell’s wife Jenny had been located and had claimed to know n
othing about his recent pursuits.
Jo leaned against the tiled wall of the shower, waiting as jets of steaming water bounced off her skin, sending spears of heat through her body. The Perspex doors were open, Dan’s spot directly under the nozzle free, and the door to their adjoining bedroom open.
‘Happy anniversary,’ she said as he drew closer. ‘Only two days late.’
He slid the shower door shut behind him and buried his face in the nape of her neck.
‘Jesus, what a week,’ he said.
‘It’s over,’ Jo said. ‘And if it’s any consolation this case has made me realize that judgement calls are where real justice is. Putting that kid into an institution would not be justice. He’s a sweet boy.’
Jo moved behind Dan and started to massage his back. He leaned his neck towards the movement of her hands. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you what had happened. I should have, in hindsight.’
‘You’re a man of your word. You protected your source.’
‘How many people might I have saved from Ellen if I’d done what I was supposed to?’
‘Those people would have found someone else to help them.’
‘I just didn’t think that I had a choice back then. Ellen was threatening to kill herself rather than go back to live at home again. She’d already tried it at least once: we’d found out about that hospital admission I told you about. I should have had her taken into care, and Liz taken out of that house, and made a paedophile atone for his crimes.’
‘If he was one,’ Jo said. ‘Ellen was a disturbed girl, just as she was a disturbed woman. We’ll never know if her problems resulted from her abuse, or if she was abused at all. You did what you thought was right. The fact that Derek lived under a cloud of suspicion for the sake of Liz’s future is admirable as far as I’m concerned. What could you have achieved by forcing Ellen to stay? She said she would refuse to cooperate with any court case. She’d have been a hostile witness. It’s hard enough to get abused girls to come forward. What kind of signal would we have been sending out if you’d forced Ellen into the dock? She wanted to get on with the rest of her life. She claimed she didn’t want an abuser to dominate her future. She didn’t want her abuse to ruin Liz’s life.’
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