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

by Casey Hill

  ‘I’m doing it all wrong, aren’t I?’ she laughed through her short breaths.

  ‘No, not at all. You’re doing great,’ He pulled up, and she did too. ‘It’s just, your strides are a little wide. A lot of short distance runners do the same thing, and it’s fine, but if you’re going long distance it’ll really tire you out. Lean forward a little, so that you’re not overextending yourself, and make sure your stride is no bigger than the width of your hips.’

  They ran for a few more minutes. ‘OK,’ she said, ‘that does actually feel better.’

  The guy at the running group was really helping her out. She had felt her form improve just from the couple of times she had run with him. He was older than her, but definitely fitter, and quite handsome too.

  They ran for about 12k, and then she declared herself done in. ‘You look like you could go all night, though,’ she said.

  ‘Well, I’ve been running for a long time,’ he said.

  She laughed, and then asked: ‘I noticed you change your pace a lot, from slow to fast. Why? Isn’t it better to keep an even pace so that the body can adjust?’

  ‘Not really,’ he said. ‘Varying your pace helps you build endurance. The bursts of high intensity get your body more accustomed to a higher rate.’

  She nodded. ‘That makes sense. I have to tell you, I’m grateful for this. I spent the day with my mother.’ She rolled her eyes and grinned. ‘Almost killed me.’

  She noticed a strange look pass over his face, almost like she had stabbed him with a pin, or something. ‘Is your mother…not very nice?’

  ‘Oh, no. She’s great. She lives in the UK so I don’t see her that often but she can just be hard work sometimes. Like, did you ever notice that once your parents get older, it kind of feels as though you’re parenting them a little bit?’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘I never noticed. My mother died when I was young.’

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘That must have been very hard.’

  Her sympathy came very naturally. One of the best things about Constance was her ability to feel pain for others. Her mother told her it was also a weakness that led her to surround herself with less than deserving people, but sometimes her mother was a crank.

  ‘It was a long time ago,’ he said. ‘But yeah, it was hard.’

  They parted and as Constance walked back to her car, she thought that she had just had a curiously intimate moment with someone whose name she didn’t even know.

  They had to let Nico Peroni go, but there was the warning that he shouldn’t leave town. Reilly had her team working overtime trying to see if there was a DNA match for him with any of the samples they had collected from any of the victim’s houses. This stuff could take a long time, but she wanted results.

  They’d got a court order to take a sample from Peroni, and she had watched Lucy take a swab from the inside of his mouth. A curiously intimate thing to do to someone. When Peroni left the station, he looked like he had spent a night in hell. Somehow though, she couldn’t bring herself to feel sorry for him.

  ‘What do you think?’ she asked Chris.

  ‘I think he’s hiding something. We’ve got the connection between him and the first victim. The others aren’t too much of a stretch to make, given that they had eaten at his restaurants. He says he doesn’t do online dating, though.’

  ‘Well, that connected the victims, but we don’t know for sure that they met the killer online. We’re going to need something stronger to hold him.’

  ‘I’ve got Lucy, Gary and Julius working like robots in the lab. We’ll get it at soon as we can, if it’s there.’

  He nodded. ‘He doesn’t have an alibi for the Worthington night, but he can’t remember where he was the night Jennifer Armstrong was killed.’

  ‘Which, at the moment, means that he could have done it.’

  ‘Yep.’

  They were silent for a second, looking through the glass into the interview room, which was now empty. Reilly could faintly see their watery outlines.

  ‘Did you do a test yet?’ he asked gently.

  She stiffened. ‘I don’t need to do a test, Chris. I know my own body. It’s impossible.’

  ‘Is it? Impossible I mean? Not that it’s any of my business but …. if something happened when you were in the States.’

  Her silence was enough and she walked out, leaving Chris with his worst suspicions confirmed.

  So, something had happened. With who - Forrest? Hardly, although he couldn't be sure. Then he remembered Reilly mentioning something about a son, the one she’d worked an investigation with. Todd. That was more likely. Chris didn’t have a right to be angry, he knew but he felt saddened all the same.

  It had taken him and Reilly years to get to this point, and now just when they’d reached a major breakthrough, everything had just got a lot more complicated.

  On the way home, Reilly’s mind was racing. It was ridiculous, she thought, how men thought they knew women so well. So Chris had correctly suspected she’d had a fling. What had happened between them the other night had happened in a moment of desperation.

  Yes, Reilly had feelings for him, knew she always had, but she certainly wasn’t ready to jump into anything. He had been there for her during so many tough times. She just couldn’t imagine being in the kind of place where their relationship was about romantic dinners, movies in the weekends, or spending time together at home after work.

  What had happened with Todd had been overwhelming, physical - so overwhelming unfortunately, they hadn’t used any protection. She hadn’t used birth control for years, not liking how bloated it made her feel. But could it really have happened? In a window that small? She had become so used to her life alone that the thought of getting pregnant had never occurred to her. It just didn’t seem like something that she was destined for. She still wasn’t destined for it, she told herself and she truly believed she knew her body well enough that she would notice if something major was happening. So she might as well just take the test and nix the possibility. She had enough on her mind without worrying about that, too.

  Plus, it would get Chris out of her hair.

  She picked up a predictor test at the chemist in Ranelagh village, and perhaps she was imagining it but did the women behind the counter gave her an appraising stare? No, she was just reaching. Reilly tried to tell herself that she wasn’t nervous; wasn’t concerned at all, but as she opened her wallet to pay the cashier she realized her hands were clammy.

  You might think, that because Constance is so obviously a sweet girl, that I have qualms about killing her. But that’s simply not true. Only an amateur would get distracted by a feeling so mild as “like”. There is a chance that I might have liked some of the wriggling lobsters I have dropped into boiling pots of water, but I still did it.

  The truth is, Constance is means to an end. She is simply the vessel for pain. Her death will not be as easy as the others, but that is simply because I don’t want someone to say to her mother: ‘She did not suffer.” She will suffer, because I want her mother to suffer. It is that simple.

  Her running is really coming along, though. Perhaps, if I ever get sick of my day job, I could consider a career in coaching. But my life is so easy right now. Because of my success, I simply have to waltz into the kitchen, make a few tweaks to the menu, shout a few orders, and I am free to pursue my real life.

  The inner life is always the real life. So many people concentrate on the exterior. Looks, jobs, education: those are all well and good, but it’s the river that runs through us all that we must pay heed to. Ignore it at your peril. I have given up many things to follow my true self, but it has been worth it. He leads me into darkness, and I follow without hesitation.

  There last few days have been a little tense. Surprise of surprises, the cop is still alive. My little mushroom ruse failed. He looks no worse for wear. He and the other two, that big handsome brute and that career obsessed American have b
een hanging around the restaurant. I thought it might be time for me to lie very low, which would be a great pity, just when everything is coming together. Added to this, the papers have begun calling me “The Chef.” How very original. Probably every restaurant in Dublin will soon be as empty as a tomb. They have cast Harry McMurty as a kind of much-maligned, completely innocent victim. Nonsense. He deserved his death.

  No matter, all I need is time. Time to carry out my most daring, and most fulfilling plan yet. They will not stop me before I have done what I need to do, I will make sure of that.

  Chapter 31

  Gary was focusing in on the Keating brothers, as Reilly had asked him to.

  Now that Rory was back, he didn’t have to devote so much of his time to playing around with people’s computers.He had felt himself getting closer to Lucy, as well, which was another reason to keep going on this case. Something was definitely growing between them, and he just hoped it was more than friendship.

  He had asked his buddy in the Justice Department for a list of known aliases on Brendan Keating, but, unlike his brother, it seemed as though the guy didn’t use any.

  Gary thought about it some more. It seemed to him that the real key to what had happened to Lucy’s sister was the house in which they had found Grace’s necklace. He shivered. It didn’t bear thinking about that place, really, not when you were all by yourself in the GFU lab late in the evening.

  He did a search on the O’Toole house, which was currently up for sale and found its listing details and current valuation. It was set at a really low price, maybe because of the location in a rougher part of the city, or maybe because it had had a police cordon around it for three months. He shot a quick email off to the seller: “Interested in this property. Can you let me have more info? Thanks.”

  It was a long shot, but maybe it might drag something up from the depths. At least he still felt as though he was doing something. And it wasn’t a total lie. He was interested in the property, just not in buying it.

  It would be nice to get a result on at least one of these cases. He could see the stress of the murder investigations was getting to Reilly. It was wholly unusual for the boss to show any sign of what she was feeling internally, but the last few days she had seemed stretched tight. As always she had too much going on, and though he and the others on the team tried to take some of her load, she was too dedicated to let them do too much.

  Despite being told off by Lucy for speculating about Reilly and Detective Delaney, Gary couldn’t help but think that something had gone on between them. Delaney, too, seemed even more preoccupied than usual, particularly over the last twenty four hours.

  Anyway, no point being here thinking about his colleagues when he should home be in bed getting some shut eye. Reilly set the pace for her team and she was always at work before eight. He often wished for a boss who wasn’t such a morning person, but what are you going to do?

  Reilly held the stick with a resolutely still hand. She placed it on the vanity in her bathroom, then went out into the living room to wait.

  On a whim, she grabbed a piece of paper and pen and wrote:

  “Mr Keating, I am not in the habit of being manipulated by criminals, no matter how good their penmanship may be. However, first and foremost, I try to solve crime. So if you can help me with that, then I guess it’s worth the correspondence.

  You ask if I know what it’s like to be overwhelmed by a feeling that you would later not claim to be your own. Of course. This is a very human feeling, one that we are all prey to. It is a human trait to be overwhelmed by rage, passion, grief. But the true mark of being human, I think, is being able to control these behaviors. We are nothing but animals if we do not know how to overcome our baser natures.

  You say that you are attempting to rein in your anger, and your letter shows the marks of someone who is coming to self-awareness, perhaps after years of having your mind and thoughts controlled by someone else. So why don’t you believe in the possibility of redemption, or at least of improvement?

  I send this letter being sure that it will lead to no good, but it’s true that I want the information you say you have for me. So, try to give some thought to the position this puts me in. Try to think of Grace’s family.”

  She went outside and posted it in the nearby letterbox before she could change her mind. If she waited until morning, she knew she would rip it up into pieces.

  When she came back from the brisk night air, she headed to the bathroom with determination. She was not one to be afraid, or to turn away from knowledge about herself.

  But this was the kind of knowledge she could do without.

  Reilly inhaled. There they were, two tiny lines, glowing pink.

  Such a small thing, to send someone’s life completely out of control.

  Kennedy and Chris met for breakfast the next morning.

  ‘You know,’ said Kennedy, biting into a huge muffin. ‘I often wish I had been a cop in New York. The food is just great over there. The delis, especially. You’ve never tasted anything like it. Josie wanted to go shopping and I said: “Off you go. Meet me here in six hours.’”

  Chris smiled and shook his head. The mushroom incident may have knocked Kennedy for six, but his appetite remained intact. Perhaps it had even grown.

  ‘Are you all right, mate?’ the big man asked. ‘You’ve been a bit quiet the past few days. I mean, even more so than usual. Job’s not getting to you, is it? Or are you just upset to see my ugly mug back at work again?’

  Chris laughed. ‘Nah, nothing like that. Just the flavor seems to have gone out of things lately. I want to get some movement on this case and now it feels like we’re back at square one.’

  ‘Maybe you should take a few days off. How long is it since you saw the sun, my friend?’

  ‘About six years,’ said Chris, deadpan. ‘Yeah. I’ve been thinking about that too. Maybe I do need a change of scenery.’

  Kennedy was surprised. He hadn’t actually been serious. For as long as he had known Chris, the job had been his life. When he was forced to take time off, he grumbled about it.

  ‘Not having women troubles, are you?’ From Kennedy’s experience, the one thing that could bring a man down like this was affairs of the heart. He didn't think Chris had been seeing anyone recently, but you never knew.

  ‘I’m not even going to answer that. You know I lead the life of a monk.’

  ‘Well, maybe that’s your problem,’ said Kennedy. ‘It’s just not healthy.’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ said Chris. ‘I just need to get my head straight. Get something really good on this chef guy.’

  ‘How did it go with Peroni?’

  ‘Still nothing out of him. He doesn’t have alibis, but then we don’t have anything to tie him to the scene. Reilly’s got the GFU working round the clock, trying to match up the samples.’

  ‘Well,’ said Kennedy, ‘in my experience, a man with nothing to hide doesn’t act quite so much like he does.’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Chris. “Maybe today will be the day when we get the big break.’

  ‘That’s the spirit,’ Kennedy replied, crumbs all over his mouth.

  It hadn’t been an easy night for Reilly. In fact, it had probably been one of the worst nights of her life. She found herself identifying even more closely with Naomi Worthington. What were you supposed to do when a bomb like this went off in the middle of your world? A world that you thought you had a pretty good handle on.

  She knew that it wasn’t a completely ridiculous idea for her to become a mother. She knew that she had a great capacity for love. She knew that she would be capable.

  But she definitely hadn’t seen it happening this way. How could she possibly handle a baby and a career? She was in an important position at the GFU now, the top of her game. If she took time out now, she might never get back to where she was. She might never climb her way up the ladder. She might be reduced from leading the investigation
s, to being a lackey on someone’s team again, having to suppress her own instinct because she wasn’t the boss.

  On top of all of her confusion, Reilly felt a sense of shame. How could she have ignored her body like this? She had been pushing the symptoms aside, repressing any doubts or fears that she had. She was a grown thirty-something woman, supposed to be well in tune with her own body, yet Chris had to be the one to tell her what was actually going on with it.

  It was embarrassing.

  She had no idea what to do. She would have to keep acting as normal. Getting up, going to work, doing what she always did. But at some point she would no longer be able to hide what was going on, which would in turn lead to a whole lot of very awkward conversations.

  Apart from the mess of her feelings, there was the practical side of things to consider as well. She had to make a doctor’s appointment. That’s what you were supposed to do, wasn't it? She was probably supposed to eat lot of iron rich foods, take folic acid, all that stuff. Luckily, she hadn’t been drinking much since her return from Florida, on the one hand because there was little opportunity but on the other, because she had thought it might aggravate her “stomach bug.” What a joke. It was times like these that Reilly most yearned to have her mother back, so that she didn’t have to be tough, or strong, but could just break down and have someone tell her: “It’s going to be all right.” Not that Cassie was ever too good in that department but Reilly guessed such a yearning for a motherly love was only natural at a time like this. Should she tell Mike? Her father would be floored at the very idea …but more to the point, Reilly realized, as a fresh anxiety hit her, what on earth was she going to tell Todd?

  She didn’t even know how he felt about children. The relationship hadn’t gone deep enough for that kind of discussion — obviously, or the thought of taking precautions might have occurred to them. But to think that Daniel, her mentor, her long-time father figure, would now in fact be her baby’s grandfather … It didn't seem real and Reilly’s brain hurt to think about it.