by Casey Hill
The journey across town took a lot less time on this occasion, faster than she would have liked. She didn’t exactly relish the thought of seeing Darren Keating again.
Gary took Lucy for a drink after work.
‘I’m really sorry we didn’t find anything yesterday,’ he said. ‘I was so sure, Reilly was so sure, that we would. But all we discovered is that it’s going to be this huge, maybe impossible job.’
‘It’s OK,’ said Lucy quietly. ‘I mean of course I was really hoping that you would find something. But it’s not your fault. You can’t magic up a result, Gary. I guess I’m coming to terms with the fact that we may never find out what happened to Grace now. That we might have to live our whole lives never knowing.’
‘You shouldn’t have to,’ said Gary. ‘I’m still working on it. Reilly’s got me going over maps from that area from years ago, trying to see what was there before.’
‘Sounds like painstaking work.’
‘It’s worth it,’ said Gary, with the kind of intense look that made her feel a little embarrassed.
‘Anyway,’ she said. ‘One thing I am glad of is that this has brought me way closer to Dad. I’ve really seen a different side to him these past couple of weeks. A side I kind of remember from when I was younger, but he changed when Grace disappeared. He got so bitter, so over protective. Of course I understand that now, but at the time, I hated it.’
‘He’s a good man,’ said Gary, ‘But a scary one.’
Lucy laughed. ‘I honestly don’t even think he’s that scary anymore,’ she said. ‘I think it’s all an act.’
‘If it is,’ joked Gary, ‘it’s a really good one.’
Darren Keating didn’t look pleased to see Reilly.
‘Why are you here?’ he asked. ‘I wrote to you again.’
‘I’m sick of writing, Darren. I’m sick of playing cat and mouse. This isn’t a game to me. It’s the life of someone I care about, very much.’
‘But what about me?’
‘What about you?’
‘I want to keep writing.’ He sounded like a petulant little boy.
‘Then keep writing, Darren. Write to anyone you want. But I need answers faster than your style of communicating permits.’
He was silent. Reilly couldn’t tell if he was working himself into a rage or not, but if he was she wanted to be right out of the line of fire.
‘We’ve been to your uncle Martin’s house,’ she said. ‘The place we believe your brother was hiding out. And we didn’t find what we wanted. But do you want to know what I believe? I believe that Grace’s body is buried somewhere, near that house maybe, and that you know where it is.’ There was nothing from him, not even a flicker of the eyes. ‘And do you know what else? I think your brother hurt Grace, hurt her really badly, and I think you’ve been angry about that all your life.’
She could see him reacting now, his pupils dilating and his hands shaking. He got up swiftly and kicked his chair. It went flying into the opposite wall. The guards were on him in seconds, but when Reilly saw his eyes, she saw that he was in control of the momentary outburst.
‘But you can make a difference now Darren,’ she continued, realising that this was her last chance, the very last opportunity to find out the truth. ‘You couldn't save Grace back then, but you can do something good now, you can finally relieve her family of their burden.’ Her voice was almost a whisper. ‘Please Darren, please. You know in your heart that it’s the right thing to do. Your mother told me you were good person. Prove it.’
It felt like an age before Darren Keating finally spoke.
‘You’re wrong.’
Reilly blinked, crushed. She’d been so sure …
‘Not Martin’s,’ Darren continued. ‘Our old house … behind the shed,’ he said, looking like a little boy about to cry.
Chapter 41
Constance ran a brush through her hair as she talked to her mother over the phone. Ruth was feeling like her old self again, giving guest lectures and advising Constance on how best to plant vegetables in pots on her balcony.
‘How’s the running?’ her mum asked warily. She wasn’t really a fan of exertion. There was something so primitive about it, after all.
‘It’s so good,’ said Constance. ‘I’m getting really fit and really strong. But did I tell you about the guy I run with? It’s so sad. His mum died when he was really little and he has this dinner every year to remember her and this year none of his friends can go. So I’m going to go and keep him company.’
‘Sounds a little obsessive if you ask me,’ said Ruth.
‘No everyone actually is, mother. I’m just telling you about my life.’
‘And you know I’m just a grouchy old woman, my dear. Now go off and have fun.’
Constance would. She had a date tonight with a big, sexy fireman she had met at a fundraiser.
She planned to have lots of fun indeed.
It was the last meet-up before my big night on Saturday with Constance.
I’ve perfected the menu and I told her. You’re going to love it.
I’m really excited, she said. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone who truly cook just for me before.
We ran in perfect anticipation. All these months, all these dead ends, these other, unsatisfactory subjects: it’s all just been leading up to this.
The fly in the ointment is the cop. She’s definitely looking for something. But I don’t think she’s found it yet. All I need is a few more days. Then I can go and start a new life somewhere, as someone completely different. I’ve toyed with the idea that maybe I will feel free then, will just be able to lead a normal life.
But the truth is, these girls are everywhere. Forging paths through the world for their own good and thinking of no one else. I can let that go unpunished. I can’t let another child suffer as I did. So if you want to point the finger, if you want to name a culprit, you can look past me. I merely carry out the infliction of pain. It’s another who has created it. If I had been shown one molecule of love from her in my childhood, then maybe everything would have been different.
But soon I will have a revenge sweeter than I could have dreamed. Not even killing Ruth herself would give me this much pleasure. I only want to take from her as much as she took from me.
Reilly was stretched so tight, she thought her skin might actually tear as two days later, she stood outside the Keating’s former house and watched the diggers work. Gary was there, and the guys from the task force were sitting in their car with the heater on. She had asked Lucy and Jack not to come.
In case they didn’t find anything, and in case they did.
‘Do you really think we’ll find her?’ Gary asked as they waited on the lawn. The house’s slightly stunned current occupants had duly complied with the warrant, and had made themselves scarce while the excavation was underway. ‘Maybe this guy’s just toying with you.’
‘There’s always that possibility,’ she agreed. ‘But I just have to trust my instincts. I always believed that Darren Keating knew something about Grace’s disappearance, and I also felt he was sincere.’ But then the man had also had years of psychological abuse from his psychopathic brother, so there was also every chance that Gary’s suspicions were correct.
Either way, they’d find out soon.
It was slow, painstaking work. They had to stop every time something was found, examine and then bag it in case it was important. It was surprising how much junk was in the ground in the area Darren had pinpointed. The shed he’d mentioned was no longer there, and so far they had found an old shoe, the leather disintegrating and moldy, bottles and a plastic bag filled with library books.
‘Someone’s going to have some overdue fees for those,’ Gary joked and she knew this was a sure sign that he was nervous. Her keyed up energy was transferring to him too.
It began to rain lightly. Each drop that hit Reilly’s skin seemed to pierce it like a tiny pin. It didn’t
seem right to go and sit in the car, though. It seemed right to wait out here. Instead she wrapped a GFU wind-breaker around her shoulders and pulled the hood up. Gary did the same, and they looked like the keepers of some ancient grave. Which, she thought, maybe they were.
The rain made the recovery harder. Boots stuck in the mud, items were plucked from its sucking grip only to be lost again. Reilly wasn’t going to call it off, though. They had waited too long for this. Lucy and her family had waited too long.
Soon, it started to get dark. They powered up overhead lighting but Reilly knew it was a matter of time before they would have to call it a day. Just a little longer, she prayed, please.
Her legs became stiff and sore from standing in the cold and the run she had gone for the night before. She was out of practice a little and had pushed herself hard.Her reverie was interrupted by one of the diggers leaning down to inspect something and then throwing his hand in the air as a signal.
‘He’s found something,’ said Gary. They made their way over to where the digger was. Both of them could see the white ridges that he had uncovered, white ridges that were being washed clean by the light drizzle.
Bones were white when you set them next to something like dirt, but Reilly knew that under the mortuary lights, they would be yellowish, pitted and flawed.
‘Get a tent up,’ she said. ‘We’re not going until we’ve got everything.’
They waited until the ME arrived, before eventually stepping away to let the recovery team do their work.
Climbing in the GFU van, in such cold and desolate weather, Reilly thought that maybe she was in a slight state of shock. Despite thinking that they were going to find something, and despite the fact that Darren had pointed her here, she still couldn't quite believe it.
‘I just can’t believe it,’ said Gary echoing her thoughts. ‘I can’t believe that it’s over.’ His voice cracked a little and she reached for his hand. Sure, they saw dead bodies every day, saw unbelievably tragic things, but this was one of their own.
This was something close to their hearts, sheer proof that none of them was safe from tragedy, all of them marked for death.
Reilly didn’t say to Gary what she was really thinking: It’s never really over.
She called into Jack Gorman’s house on her way home. She was covered in mud, and completely exhausted, but the family needed to know and she didn't want them to have to wait any longer. Seventeen years was long enough.
Lucy was there too, sitting with her mother, all frozen in place as they waited for news.
‘We found something,’ she said. ‘Remains exactly where Keating pinpointed. All is subject to analysis of course, but based on Keating’s testimony we can only assume that it’s Grace.’
She couldn’t help but tell them so bluntly. There was nothing else for it. Those were the facts.
As the Gorman family held onto each other in a rush of both relief and sorrow, Reilly thought about the fact she had held back from them. That Grace’s skeleton was not the only one found in that garden.
They would find out soon enough.
She wanted them to have this moment for Grace alone.
Chapter 42
It had been a long week, and Reilly was glad for it to be over.
As expected, the examination and DNA analysis of the remains found at the house had very quickly revealed one of the victims as Grace Gorman. The second skeleton was also female but older, and with no corresponding DNA, identifying that one would be a longer process.
The Gormans had understandably taken time off to grieve for Grace and to prepare for her burial service. So it was once again all remaining hands on deck at the GFU.
Reilly’s thinking was interrupted by Chris perching on the edge of her desk.
‘Hi,’ she said. ‘I was just about to leave.’
‘Me too. I’ll walk you down.’
They took the elevator and once the doors had closed he asked: ‘So, how are you feeling?’
She nodded. ‘Good. I’m good.’
‘I’m sorry for pressuring you into taking the test. It’s not my business.’
She shrugged. ‘Chris, I’m not really ready to talk about it with you or with …anyone. Not yet at least. I’m waiting for the right moment to tell Todd, but I’m not sure that’s ever going to come.’
‘But how do you feel about …everything?’
‘Honestly?’ she said. ‘I feel angry. Angry with myself for getting into this position. I feel angry that I’m facing something that I’m not sure I want. I’m scared. I’m scared that because I don’t really want this, that I’ll be bad at it.’
‘You won’t be — ’
‘Just don’t,’ she said putting up a hand up. ‘Not right now. I don’t need empty comfort or platitudes. I need to be alone.’
Felling helpless, he watched her disappear into the darkening evening.
On Friday morning, Reilly stood between Chris and Kennedy as the box containing Grace Gorman’s remains was lowered into the cold ground. It was a small service, attended by mostly people who knew the Gormans, rather than Grace herself. Her best friend Georgina was there, though, grown into a beautiful young woman, a reminder of what Grace could have been, had she had the chance.
Reilly watched Lucy stand strong and brave as she farewelled her sister. They were the kind of women who faced tragedy and then got up and faced day after day head on. There was some comfort in that, really.
They couldn’t be kept down.
Afterwards, most people went for a drink, because the day had been hard and long, but Reilly grabbed a quick bite and then headed home in the cold.
She felt numb, both physically and emotionally. She didn’t want to think about anything, although she knew that was an immature path to take. Even though the murder investigation had been wrapped up, and Grace Gorman had finally been found, everything felt lacking and flat. She just couldn’t see ahead to the coming months and what they would bring.
Was Dublin really right for her — especially now? More and more the same question played on her mind. It had seemed like a great fit at first. She was always refreshed by change. But since coming back, she just wasn’t sure. The last couple of weeks had left her feeling sucked dry. Maybe it was just the pressure she was under from all sides.
When she got home, there was a message from her father on her machine.
‘Hi hon,’ Mike said. ‘I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing. Hope you’re not too stressed out. Give your old man a call when you get a chance, OK.’
How she wished she could call him right now and pour her heart out. But it would have to wait.
The next day when she arrived at work, Kennedy had set up the GFU’s lie detection machinery in the interview room. Apparently Nico Peroni was to be interviewed again but he didn’t know about any test. The lie detector was merely a prop, he told Reilly, to be used in the hope that Peroni would break.
Her doubts about the investigation had dimmed over the last few days. She had too much on her mind to be obsessive about a case that had already been closed. But out of respect for Kennedy, she would go with along with it and oversee.
‘Everyone ready?’ she asked, when all was in place.
‘All set,’ said Chris.
‘I’ll have to ask you to observe only, Kennedy,’ said Reilly. ‘You’re with me.’
He sighed but took his place behind the window of the interview room. ‘I just know something’s going to happen today,’ he said.
Reilly hoped not. She’d had enough of things “happening”. She could really do with some time to sort out her own problems. She snorted to herself. Time: what a luxury.
‘OK, bring him in.’
When Peroni was led in, he looked nothing like the handsome, cheerful man at the helm of Hammer and Tongs a week before. His pallor was grey and loose skin hung from his cheeks in folds. He looked at Chris with complete resignation.
A
fter he was seated in front of him, Chris said: ‘Mr Peroni, we would like you to submit to a lie detector test. You have been consistent in your claim that you are innocent, and as such, we would like to give you an opportunity to clear some things up for us.’
There was a spark in Peroni’s eyes. ‘I’ll do it,’ he said, his voice croaky with misuse.
‘Why are you agreeing to do this now?’ asked Chris. ‘Why not just talk to us before?’
‘Because I’ve got no choice,’ said Peroni. ‘I’ve lost my restaurant, my reputation, everything. I’ve got nothing left to lose.’
Chris attached the wires to his chest, which was waxed, he noticed. This was a ruse, anyway. All they wanted from Peroni was some answers. A confession, preferably.
‘When did your acquaintance with Harry McMurty begin?’ he asked.
‘About two years ago. He came looking for a job, but I didn’t have anything at that time. We struck up a friendship.’
‘Why didn’t you tell us this before?’
‘Because the nature of our friendship was not…we were romantically involved.’
‘I see,’ said Chris. ‘And why not be honest about that? There’s no crime in homosexuality. No crime in a consensual relationship. Why would you lie to us about it?’
‘He was blackmailing me,’ said Peroni. ‘I had some bad habits. Some debts. Harry threatened to expose me if I didn’t employ him and if I ended our relationship.’
Kennedy turned and raised his eyebrows at Reilly. ‘I knew that fella was a bad one,’ he said.
‘Why didn’t you go to the police?’
‘I was ashamed,’ said Nico. ‘But I was also in love. I really believed that underneath it all, he was a good person and that eventually he would see the error of his ways.’
‘Did he introduce you to Rose Cooper?’