TRACE - CSI Reilly Steel #5 (Forensic novel Police Procedural Series)

by Casey Hill

  ‘This one is especially nasty.’

  Darren Keating may once have been handsome. Reilly thought if she felt safe enough to squint, she might have been able to find traces of the good looking kid that had once attracted the attention of Grace Gorman.

  But no longer. He had a tattoo of a scarab beetle under one eye, the wings shimmering green and appearing to move whenever the muscles in his cheek moved. His face was overlain with scars. This is what happened when you spent so much time in jail: you had to prove yourself again and again by fighting those who were stronger than you. Reilly thought that Darren had probably proved himself by now. His knuckles were a mess of fatty scar tissue, pink and obscene.

  ‘Did the warden finally shell out for a pro?’ he asked, as she sat down. He leaned back, surveying her.

  She regarded him with a blank stare and switched on her voice recorder. ‘I’ll be taping this,’ she said.

  ‘I like a woman who wants a souvenir,’ he said. ‘Nothing you do will be a problem for me, darlin’’

  ‘Cut the crap,’ she said. ‘You know why I’m here.’

  ‘I haven’t actually been informed of that little tidbit, no,’ he said, looking genuine. ‘I get dragged from my cell and told to be on my best behavior, but they don’t tell me why.’

  ‘I’m here to talk about Grace Gorman.’

  ‘Grace….Grace Gorman. Doesn’t ring a bell.’

  ‘Don’t play with me.’

  ‘I’d like nothing better than to play with you, actually. But I reckon you might not like my brand of playing.’

  ‘Answer my questions,’ said Reilly, standing up. ‘Or I’m leaving.’ She thought it would work. These guys didn’t get a break from the mundane sameness of every day. If nothing else, this encounter would be something for Keating to think about later, although she hated to think of him carrying her image in his mind.

  ‘You were seeing Grace Gorman at the time she went missing, eighteen years ago.’

  ‘I was seeing her, yeah. But do you have any idea how many women I’ve “seen” since then. You’ll have to forgive me if my memory of this one is a little foggy.’

  ‘I’m sure we can get you to remember a few salient facts. How long did you go out with Grace?’

  ‘We were kids. We went to different schools so I didn’t see her that much. Weekends, mostly. Her parents were very strict.’

  ‘Were you happy together?’

  ‘What kind of question is that? I was fifteen. I wasn’t happy with anything. I thought she was kind of cool. We liked the same music. But she was just a girl, one of many.’

  ‘Was your relationship sexual?’

  He sneered. ‘Yeah. I bet you’d like to know just how much wouldn’t you? Give you something to think about later.’

  ‘Answer the question,’ said Reilly.

  ‘No, it wasn’t. Not like that. She was a bit innocent that one.’ His face softened a little and this surprised her. ‘We just messed around, a bit of a feel here and there. Nothing to rock your world. Don’t think like that. It wasn’t like that with her. It wasn’t dirty.’

  Taken aback by his vehemence, she noticed he was breathing deeply, no longer as assured and controlled. ‘Did that upset you?’

  ‘I just wanted you to understand that no matter what came after, Grace wasn’t like that. I just liked to be with her, to talk with her, you know? She was more of a friend.’

  ‘Okay. Did your brother … Brendan know her?’

  His head snapped up and his grey eyes seemed to look right through her. ‘What’s that got to do with anything? What’s he got to do with it?’

  ‘You tell me. Did he know Grace?’

  ‘Yeah, he knew her. She was round our place sometimes.’

  ‘Did he like her?’

  He shrugged. ’I don’t know what he thought of her. Didn’t care.’

  ‘Do you and your brother have a close relationship?’

  ‘I haven’t seen Brendan in years,’ he said.

  ‘Before that. Were you close?’

  ‘Yes. He looked after me. He stood by me. He knew what was best.’ He sounded almost like he was reciting a lesson.

  ‘How did he know what was best for you?’

  ‘He knew how things worked. Knew that my mam and Frank were just out to get me. Wanted to send me away to school. Brendan looked after me.’

  She guessed Frank was the mother’s new husband, Darren’s stepfather.

  ‘Where is Brendan now?’ she asked.

  ‘No one knows. He must be dead though, because he wouldn’t go and take off somewhere without saying something. Someone must have got him.’

  ‘Did your brother have lots of enemies then?’

  ‘Sure,’ said Darren. ‘People were afraid of him. They wanted him dead.’

  ‘Were you afraid of him?’

  Darren looked away. ‘He would never hurt me.’

  ‘Were you afraid of him?’

  Still he didn't reply and Reilly sat silently for a minute. She could feel the guards waiting behind her, staring at her and Darren. She had the feeling that if she waited, he would say more.

  ‘Did my brother hurt me? Yeah,’ he said. ‘Plenty of times. He would hit me. He killed my dog. He would tear up my schoolwork, piss on pictures of my girlfriends, my family. Yes, I was afraid of him. But everything he did was love. Everything. See this burn?’ He pointed to a long burn down his forearm. ‘He did this with the blade of a knife he had held in the fire. Every time he hit me, or took something from me, he did it to make me stronger. Because he loved me.’

  Reilly was overwhelmed. She felt ill. ‘Did your brother try to take Grace from you?’

  Suddenly a stream of filthy words and invective flowed. The man who had spoken to her so reasonably a minute ago was now going crazy. He threw his body over the table between them. His teeth were bared in a yellow rictus, his hands made into claws. Reilly shot her body backwards, sending her chair flying. The guards were on him in seconds, but she had felt the hot air of his breath, felt his words land on her like blows.

  Outside, she gulped for air. She still had her recorder grasped in her hand, thank goodness. She didn’t remember picking it up, didn’t remember being escorted from the premises. She stumbled back to the car park, where Chris was waiting, leaning against the car.

  ‘Reilly my god, what’s wrong?’ He held out his arms to steady her, and she fell against his chest. ‘It’s all right,’ he said, ‘It’s all right. It’s all right.’

  The strength of his arms around her seemed to trigger something in her, and without warning, Reilly found herself wrapping her arms around him. Then without warming, she pressed her lips against his, trying to fill herself up with the smell of Chris, the taste of him, anything to block out the events of the past hour.

  Chapter 15

  Pete Kennedy was waging his own private war against Harry McMurty. Chris seemed to think he was a dead end in the investigation, but he just had a feeling about this kid that couldn’t be ignored.

  He found out where McMurty lived and followed him there. He watched him leave his house and go running in the mornings, and he watched him leave for work, perfectly groomed and strutting down the street like he owned it. He watched him flirting with girls at the restaurant, and had no doubt that he was up to his same old tricks.

  He hadn’t seen him do anything incriminating, yet. But Kennedy had no doubt, if he kept watching, that McMurty would slip up.

  Reilly would rather have done anything else than go into work on Monday morning. She thought about calling in sick. She thought about just crawling back into bed and ignoring the world. Instead she gave herself a talking to, one of the variety her father might have given her: You just lift your chin up honey, and get back to work. I didn’t raise you to hide under a rock whenever you did something stupid.

  Because she had done something stupid. Appallingly stupid. In that moment of emotion, she had kissed - practically jumped on - Chris Delaney, sending years of a good w
orking partnership straight down the toilet.

  Yes, he had responded, but how could he not, given the circumstances? She had basically been distraught. She was mortified about running into his arms like a scared little girl, but there had just been something about the encounter with Darren Keating that shook her to the core.

  It wasn't just that he tried to attack her. It was that something under his exterior was so hurt, so badly damaged that it made her afraid. There was something else to this story, Grace’s story, but she hadn’t stayed in the room long enough to find out.

  Eventually she’d come to her senses and quickly pulled away, mumbling a quick apology and shutting down any conversation about what had just happened.

  She knew he had been just as stunned as she was, and the journey back across the city had been excruciating. Every time Chris tried to speak to her she had started to talk about the Armstrong case; details they had already been over. She couldn’t stand to hear any of his platitudes, or his “I’m flattered but I don’t think this is a good idea speech”. She already knew it wasn’t a good idea.

  They were scheduled to go to a restaurant called Hammer and Tongs today to enquire about their use of antimine, and to look into any links with Rose Cooper’s former workmate Harry McMurty. There would be no cosy lunch this time, though. Reilly would keep things strictly business. She didn’t know how to begin to repair her relationship with Chris, to make him feel safe around her again.

  Now she just had to get through the day.

  But if she thought it was going to get any better, she was sadly wrong.

  She had a stack of emails and messages from the lab waiting and now she could see someone making a beeline for her office. Couldn’t they just give her a minute to hang up her coat first?

  But she would have happily talked to anyone, over what happened next. Jack Gorman walked past her in the hallway. “Steel. My office. Now.”

  She knew it wouldn’t be good, and it wasn’t.

  ‘We talked about this,’ said Jack. ‘We talked about this and I set out the ground rules and you agreed to them.’

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘So why don’t you tell me, if you understood and agreed to those rules, why my daughter was undergoing hypnotherapy on Friday, while conveniently enough you were in Mountjoy interviewing a former witness? What the hell is wrong with you Steel? You were interviewing a witness who has been questioned a hundred times! Do you know how this looks?’

  ‘I just needed to - ’

  ‘I don’t care if you needed to bloody well dance on the table tops. I don’t care what you need at all, Steel. The point is, you shouldn’t have been there. You shouldn’t have been anywhere near Keating. There’s a task force in place and now I’ve got my colleagues, the ones who are actually supposed to be working this case, breathing down my neck.’

  ‘They might be breathing down your neck, Jack, but they’re not helping you find your daughter.’

  ‘And as of now, neither are you. We’ve got a job to do here in the GFU and that’s what I want you to be doing. No flitting off on Friday afternoons on a wild goose chase.’

  ‘I resent the implication that I was ignoring my work, Jack. That’s not true. And further to that, you don’t control what I do in either my work or personal time. I made a promise to Lucy to help and I’m sorry, but I’m going to act on that promise whether you like it or not. You weren’t there the other day with Keating; there might be something …’

  Jack Gorman was so angry that for once Reilly didn't follow through on her argument. She could almost feel the heat coming off him. He had a right to be, she knew. She had expressly gone against his wishes. But with good reason.

  ‘Please, Jack. I really think I’ve got something. I just need more time. I’ll keep a low profile.’

  ‘According to you,’ he said, ‘I can’t stop you.’ Then his voice softened a little. ‘I appreciate you trying to help our family, but your job isn’t going over old ground Steel, it’s covering new.’

  ‘That’s what I’m trying to do, Jack. You know I’m good at my job.’

  ‘I know you used to be. But since you’ve got back from your leave of absence I don’t think you’ve not been on your game. And I’m not the only one who’s noticed. So I’m warning you now, as a colleague and a friend: Do your job.’

  She was almost shell-shocked when she left Jack’s office. Was he right? Had she been off her game? Sure, she had been jet lagged for longer than usual, and was definitely finding it harder to get back into the swing of things, but she thought that was visible only to her.

  She would just have to push herself harder. She would go down to the lab herself this afternoon, to go over the evidence. Something mundane like analyzing trace might help her to focus her mind; really narrow in on something.

  He was right about one thing, she really did seem all over the place since she’d come back, the ongoing murder investigation, the cold case, her relationships …

  Her mind shutting down at the thought of what had happened with Chris, she thought again about what had Jack had said about the cold case. She shouldn’t be meddling. But how could she stand by and watch the task force scratching their asses, when she now knew that there was more to Darren Keating than met the eye? It would be a different story if she trusted the other detectives to do the job. But she didn’t. And she didn’t care what Jack said; Lucy was relying on her she wasn’t going to give it up. Not while there was a sliver of hope, however faint that might be. She owed it to Lucy.

  Reilly turned to her emails and with a deep breath, began to methodically sort through them. From Gary was some background information on Brendan Keating, which she’d requested before heading out to the prison on Friday. She would read that later. It wouldn’t do for Gorman to walk in and see her reading it. From now on, she would work on Grace’s case outside of work hours and in her spare time only.

  From Julius: “More promising evidence in the Armstrong AND Cooper case.” Well, that was some good news, at least.

  The last one from Chris, she almost deleted without reading. Don’t be silly she told herself. It’s probably something about work. But something stopped her and she was just about to click on it when another email right below it caught her attention.

  It was from Lucy’s hypnotherapist.

  It could be because of the amount of time that has passed, it read, or because of the extreme effort that Lucy has put into forgetting this particular event, but it is hidden very deep. I will need to go very slowly with her, to avoid traumatizing her completely. I have no doubt that there is something to be found, but I don’t want to harm the patient in the process of extraction. You might consider the consequences if we uncover something damaging. Audio transcript attached.

  Reilly downloaded the audio file and put her headphones in. She listened to the therapist put Lucy into a sleep-like state, a place where her defenses were lowered and she could free associate. Whatever was in her unconscious wouldn’t come up against the same barriers as it did when she was awake.

  Once she was under, the therapist began to ask questions in her low and pleasant voice. Reilly felt like she was listening to something very private. She didn’t have the right to someone else’s memories. But Lucy had consented beforehand, agreeing that it was necessary.

  ‘Are you happy with your sister?’

  ‘No, I am angry with her.’

  ‘Why are you angry with her?’

  ‘You know,’ says Lucy. ‘Because she won’t tell.’ If Reilly didn’t know better, she would think she was listening to a recording of an eleven year old. Lucy sounded so young, so childlike.

  ‘Won’t tell what?’ asks the therapist.

  ‘The thing. In the house. You know,’ she says again, insistently.

  ‘Why don’t you tell?’ The therapist tries a different tack.

  ‘If I tell, they will do it to me, as well. That’s what she said. Don’t tell.’

  ‘What will they do to you?’
r />   ‘You know,’ says Lucy. ‘You know.’

  ‘I don’t know. Perhaps you told me, but now I don’t remember. Please tell me.’

  Lucy begins to whimper and cry. ‘I can’t tell,’ she says. ‘I can’t tell, or something bad will happen to Grace. I can’t tell.’

  Chapter 16

  Lucy was at her desk with her headphones in, and she jumped a meter in the air when Reilly tapped her shoulder.

  ‘Reilly. Oh my God, you scared me!’

  ‘Sorry. I just came by to tell you, if you don’t want to do this anymore, it’s OK. The hypnotherapy I mean. I’ll keep working a few angles, but you don’t need to be involved if you don’t want to. It’s probably too much.’

  Lucy looked taken aback. ‘No, why would you think that? Of course I want to keep going. I’m not that soft that I would change my mind after one session.’

  ‘But I thought … I got the impression from your dad that you didn’t want to do it anymore. Because it upset you.’

  ‘It did upset me. But Reilly, you were right I know something is there. I know that there’s something that I’ve blocked out. I talked to Dad because I thought he might remember something himself. I asked him if he remembered Grace being particularly distracted or down in the dumps before she went missing, and he got so upset. He thought I was blaming him and mum, which of course I wasn’t. And he’s adamant that Grace didn’t run away or had maybe done something … herself, and he thought I was implying that.’

  Reilly felt like a heel for putting the family through all this again. There was little question of Grace having committed suicide though, given that no body had ever been found. And that her necklace had been. ‘You’re sure you want to keep going?’ she asked Lucy again. ‘The therapist says it will be really heavy going and it’s only going to get harder.’

  ‘I want to keep going,’ she insisted. ‘Gary helped me see that it could actually be good for me. All this energy I’m putting into keeping a secret from myself? I’m sick of it, Reilly. I want to be free. Don’t worry about Dad. I’ll handle him, ok?’