by Alex Barclay
‘Excuse me,’ said Kristen. ‘I did nothing wrong. You know that the children who stay here are entitled to privacy. Unless you have a warrant, I can’t do anything. I’m not trying to be difficult here. Please understand that—’
‘I’m sorry, but I can’t,’ said Ren. ‘I’m at a loss as to how, when something like this happens, you don’t throw every single bit of information at me that you possibly can, just to help. You’re a helper, Mrs Faule. That’s why you chose to do something like this, right? That’s why I chose to be an FBI agent. I love helping. So does Detective Hooks here. I’m having a hard time with all this …’ She shrugged. ‘With your attitude … not to sound like a camp counselor about it. I’m repeating myself when I say how important your co-operation in this investigation is …’
‘I really do understand that,’ said Kristen.
‘There’s a killer who is still out there,’ said Janine. She paused. ‘Or in here.’
‘Come on,’ said Kristen. ‘There is hardly—’
‘You don’t know that,’ said Janine.
‘And I am co-operating,’ said Kristen. ‘Like I said – it’s down to confidentiality.’ She let out a breath.
‘Can I talk to you about your approach to rehab here?’ said Ren. ‘You use an outside facility, Wellness Partners, based at the Denver Tech Center?’
Kenneth Faule burst into the room, his arm outstretched. He paused mid-stride.
‘Oh,’ he said, looking at Janine and Ren. ‘Welcome.’
‘Thank you,’ said Ren. Welcome?
Kenneth went to Kristen’s desk and set a cell phone down on it. Kristen shook her head, weary. She took a sticker from a box in her letter tray and stuck it to the back of the phone. Kenneth wrote something on it, handed it back to her and she put it in a drawer.
‘Cell phones are forbidden here for the teens,’ said Kristen, ‘but someone always gives it a try. They get it back on their way out the door. And it’s not always the kids doing it. Sometimes it’s the parents sneaking a phone to them, giving in to their demands. I wonder sometimes do the parents actually miss the disruption in their home? Is the silence too much for them …?’
Or the lack of dramz.
‘Sorry for interrupting,’ said Kenneth. ‘I’ll let you get on with it.’ He left.
‘We were talking about rehab,’ said Ren.
Kristen nodded. ‘Yes, when we started out, running a rehab facility was not part of our plan. I didn’t want to go down that route, I saw it as a very dark world that I knew nothing about. I hope that doesn’t sound terrible. I saw the ranch as … I was naïve, I admit it … I saw the ranch as kind of a go-back-to-your-roots type of place, an innocent place. Of course, a lot of these kids have no such roots. And so many of them have addiction problems – illegal and prescription drugs. I never would have believed it was that bad. So, we outsourced the rehabilitation elements on a day basis. Kids who need that kind of care are brought there for a few hours every morning, then return here for the rest of their treatment.’
‘What time are these sessions at?’ said Ren.
‘They leave at nine and usually get back between eleven thirty and twelve,’ said Kristen. ‘I spoke with Detective Kohler, so did our bus driver. They didn’t see anything that day.’
‘Do you have plans to introduce rehab facilities here?’ said Ren.
Kristen frowned. ‘Well … yes,’ she said.
Ren waited.
‘Is that an issue?’ said Kristen.
‘No,’ said Ren. But I’m venturing you could do with the withdrawal of the long arm of the law. She stood up and shook Kristen’s hand. ‘Thank you for your time.’
You strange, competitive, faux-serene oddball. What are you hiding?
‘Let me take you to Conor,’ said Kristen.
30
The meeting room smelled of fresh shower gel and toothpaste. Conor Gorman, his messy dark hair still wet, was sitting at the edge of the sofa, his knees wide, his forearms balanced on his thighs, his head bowed. He was dressed in black jeans, a gray T-shirt and scuffed black biker boots. He had the look of a wanderer, like someone who didn’t belong, not just on a sofa covered with bright fleeces in the forced cheer of The Darned Heart Ranch, but on any sofa anywhere – because that’s what ordinary people did. They sat on sofas and were ordinary. The only difference was that not many ordinary people had the small, quiet might of suited lawyer Christopher Bergin beside them. He stood up and shook hands with Ren and Janine.
It was only then that Conor looked up. He fixed first Ren, then Janine, with the palest blue eyes, stark under the thick lines of his eyebrows.
This is that dark Irish thing that women love.
He had just turned seventeen, but there was something magnetic about him that went beyond his years, something sorrowful that came from his core.
‘I’m so sorry about your aunt,’ said Ren.
He raised an eyebrow. He looked around as if he would find a punchline or a set of handcuffs.
‘Thank you,’ he said.
He stared down at the floor. The chain around his neck hovered, drawing attention to its ugliness. The rest of his jewelry looked more his style: two twisted red ropes on one wrist, a black G-Shock watch on the other, a black and silver band on his right thumb. Ren could see how strange a fixture Conor Gorman would be in the Princes’ lives, how he wouldn’t blend in. He would be like a rubber mark on a marble floor.
‘How are you holding up?’ said Ren.
He shrugged.
‘Is being here helpful?’ said Ren.
He hesitated before he answered a tentative, ‘No.’
‘Then why are you here?’ said Ren.
‘To make the Princes happy …’ said Conor. ‘They paid a lot of money for this, it’s what Aunt Laura wanted …’ He shrugged again. ‘I know I have issues … but …’
‘Conor, can you tell me what happened the day that your Aunt Laura was murdered?’ said Ren.
‘I left the ranch—’
‘Let’s start with how your aunt came to be close by,’ said Ren.
‘She was coming to meet me,’ said Conor. ‘I had spoken with her on Saturday night.’
‘How did she get a hold of you?’ said Janine. ‘Cell phones are forbidden at the ranch, right?’
‘She called the front desk, pretended she was Ingrid Prince … she did a good Americany Swedish accent …’ He tried to smile, but the words had caught in his throat and he ended up fighting back tears.
‘And why wouldn’t Laura have just said who she was?’ said Ren.
If she wasn’t hiding something …
‘I don’t know,’ said Conor. ‘I asked her, but she just said she didn’t want to get into it. She told me I was to meet her at twelve on Monday.’
‘Did she say why?’ said Ren.
‘No,’ said Conor, ‘I said “But I’m not allowed out of here – just come to the ranch.” She was like “I won’t make it by tomorrow, and then I’ll have to wait until formal visits next Sunday. And I have to see you this week.” She said to meet by the little stand of dead trees on Stoney Pass Road … She’d seen them on Google Maps.’
I knew it!
‘How did she sound to you on the phone?’ said Ren.
Conor shrugged. ‘Just … normal.’
‘Anything else?’ said Ren.
‘No,’ said Conor.
‘Was Laura the type to hide her emotions?’ said Ren. ‘If she thought, for example, that telling you something might worry you.’
‘Laura always looked out for people,’ said Conor. He wiped away tears. ‘This is so messed up …’
‘Did she express any concerns about her pregnancy to you on the night she called?’ said Ren.
‘No – I had no idea she was pregnant.’
‘Do you know the circumstances of the pregnancy?’ said Ren.
‘What do you mean?’ said Conor.
‘Did you know that Laura was acting as a surrogate for the Princes?’ said Ren.
His eyes went wide. ‘No.’
‘How do you feel about that?’ said Ren.
He shrugged. ‘Weird. I mean … in general. I guess I don’t understand going through all that for someone else. Aunt Laura was a good person. She and Ingrid were close. And Robert …’
‘And Robert what?’ said Ren.
‘Well … just I guess he gets people to do what he wants …’
‘What do you mean by that?’ said Ren.
‘Just he’s that kind of guy,’ said Conor. ‘He’s a nice man, I guess, but he likes to be in control.’
Hmm.
‘Do you like Robert?’ said Ren.
A flicker of something crossed Conor’s face. ‘Yes.’
‘You can be honest, here,’ said Ren. ‘You have to be honest … by law.’
He nodded. ‘I did like him. I do like him. He can be intimidating, that’s all. He’s a rich guy … he’s just different to regular people …’
‘Different how?’ said Ren.
‘I don’t know …’
‘And how do you get along with Ingrid?’ said Ren.
His face softened. ‘Good. I like Ingrid.’
‘And did you have a problem with her insisting you stay on at the ranch after your aunt’s death?’ said Ren.
‘That was Robert,’ he said.
‘No – it was Ingrid,’ said Ren.
Conor frowned. ‘Who told you that? Robert?’
Ooh – you do not like that man.
‘How did Robert get along with Laura?’ said Ren.
‘Good,’ said Conor. ‘They liked each other a lot. Aunt Laura’s very smart; they had lots to talk about.’
‘Did you ever get the sense there was anything more between them?’ said Ren.
‘No. No … no way.’ He paused. ‘But then, I’ve been away a lot …’
Ren nodded. ‘OK, back to when you were meeting Laura.’
‘I was coming from rehab that day,’ said Conor. ‘I forged a note from the Faules saying that I had chores at the abbey, so that the driver would let me out there. When he was gone, I walked to where I was to meet Aunt Laura …’ He stared at the ground, preparing for the next part. ‘She was already dead.’
‘I’m so sorry that you had to find your Aunt Laura – that you had to see her that way,’ said Ren.
‘That’s … that’s when I found out she was pregnant …’
Oh, dear God.
‘That must have been a terrible shock,’ said Ren. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘What time was that at?’ said Janine.
‘It was about – I don’t know – twelve thirty by the time I made it there?’ said Conor. He was clenching his jaw. His knee started bouncing up and down. ‘It was terrible.’
‘What did you do?’ said Janine.
‘I freaked,’ said Conor. ‘As I was walking toward the car, I could see this darkness on the windscreen. I thought it was shadows from the trees or something. It was … blood. I pulled open the driver’s door. She was dead. I knew she was. But I pulled her back to just … to just make sure she was … to check that she definitely wasn’t still breathing … but I knew, I knew …’ He welled up.
‘It’s OK,’ said Ren. ‘Take your time.’
‘Then … I couldn’t really move her back. And I was afraid I’d, you know, destroy evidence. I panicked. I ran back to the ranch.’
‘And did you have blood on your clothes?’ said Ren.
‘Yes,’ said Conor. ‘I did.’
‘What did you do with them?’ said Ren.
‘Put them in the garbage,’ said Conor.
‘Did anyone see you?’ said Ren.
‘I guess not,’ said Conor.
‘Did you sit inside the car?’ said Ren.
‘No,’ said Conor.
‘Are you sure about that?’ said Ren.
He nodded. ‘Yes.’
‘Conor, we found your fingerprints on the dash on the passenger side of the car …’
He started to cry. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘It’s all a blur. I guess I sat inside. I don’t want to think I did. The car was horrible.’ He shook his head. ‘I remember now. I … I wanted to get something to clean my hands. I was … covered in blood. I … thought there might be something in there … a cloth, whatever.’
‘Did you find anything?’ said Ren.
‘No,’ said Conor. ‘No.’ He rubbed his face.
‘Conor, why didn’t you tell the Faules about what happened?’ said Ren. ‘Or why didn’t you call the authorities?’
He looked up at her, fear flickering in his eyes.
Ren thought of the ranch, the burnt-out car, the Faules’ rehab facility plans, the murder of Laura Flynn, the terrible collision of circumstances that could destroy a business like The Darned Heart overnight.
Oh my God. Did you tell the Faules and they silenced you?
31
Conor Gorman shifted in his seat. ‘I don’t know why I didn’t do anything,’ he said. ‘I was freaking out. I … she was dead. There was nothing anyone could do … I mean … I was covered in blood. What if someone thought I did it? I was … getting treatment for anger issues … I didn’t think any of that would look good.’
They waited for him to continue. He didn’t.
‘You said earlier that you were aware of the possibility of destroying evidence,’ said Ren, ‘so you must know that as time passes, evidence is also compromised.’
‘Yes,’ said Conor. ‘I wasn’t thinking straight. I … just … I can’t believe it now, even.’
‘Do you know anything about the car that was burnt out at the ranch that morning?’ said Ren. ‘Someone made a call about it at twelve thirty p.m.’
‘No,’ said Conor. ‘I heard afterwards, but just that it was an accident.’
‘Conor, did you steal the car from the ranch to get to where you were meeting your aunt?’ said Ren.
‘No,’ said Conor. ‘I didn’t. I told you. I got dropped off by the bus. You can ask the driver.’
‘OK,’ said Ren. ‘Conor, can you talk to us about why you were sent to The Darned Heart in the first place? I’d like to hear your side of things.’
‘I was causing trouble,’ he said. ‘The atmosphere had gotten really bad at home. I was convinced they were all, like, planning something or trying to get rid of me. I found out at rehab that that was probably because of all the dope I was smoking. It makes you think stuff like that. And I’d been doing a lot of it, and a lot more drinking, sneaking out, staying out late. I totally believed that Aunt Laura had regretted taking me in after my mom died and that I was embarrassing her, so by the time Robert was sending me here, I was kind of OK with it. Until I got here. I didn’t like it. I tried to run, but Kenneth caught me before I even left the building. It didn’t matter … I didn’t want to be there, everyone knew it and, luckily, the Princes said I could come back and spend New Year with them and Laura in the Hamptons.’
‘And when did you go back to the ranch again?’ said Ren.
‘A couple days after that … after I crashed Robert’s car. It was bad. I knew I could have died. Aunt Laura begged me to sort myself out, told me she couldn’t provide for us without her job, and that we were lucky to have the Princes and that I wasn’t to do anything to rock the boat. Obviously, now I know she was pregnant by then too, so … it was probably even worse for her. I didn’t want to mess things up … it was my mom’s anniversary and it just hit me hard – she wouldn’t have wanted this for me. There was no way that she did everything she did, worked so hard, to have a son who was a loser. Like, she was doing all this for me, and then I grow up and be a druggie or a drunk? That was it for me. So I agreed to go to the ranch and to do my last semester there and stay through the summer.’
‘Who chose The Darned Heart?’ said Ren.
He shrugged. ‘Robert, I guess. I mean, he was paying for it. They were able to get me a place quickly … I know there’s a waiting list because it’s so out of the way – it’s
not one of the famous ones that the paparazzi stalk. And the staff doesn’t leak information. There are some seriously famous kids here.’
Ooh. Like who?
‘Conor, if you were happy and ready to go back to the ranch right after New Year, why did you leave only a few days later?’
His eyes darted left and right. Short, sharp, didn’t see the question coming.
‘Uh … I just … wanted a drink,’ said Conor. ‘One more drink. It was dumb.’
‘How did you get to Golden?’ said Ren.
‘I went through the abbey grounds, got a lift with some guy that was volunteering …’
‘Do you have his name?’ said Ren.
‘No,’ said Conor. ‘I’ve no idea who he was.’
‘That night, you got into a fight,’ said Ren. ‘What happened?’
‘Just, I got really drunk, there were a bunch of students in there from the college, one of them was being an asshole and I lashed out, punched him in the face. It was just drunken stuff … The Sheriff’s Office came, took me away. Then they called Ingrid, she came and picked me up. She brought me back to the ranch. She made me see that that was the right thing to do.’
‘The students you got in a fight with … were they local?’ said Ren.
‘Well, they were from the School of Mines,’ said Conor, ‘so I guess so.’
‘Did they know where you were from?’ said Ren.
‘They guessed I was from New York,’ said Conor, ‘but they didn’t know I was staying at the ranch.’
‘And have you seen any of them since then?’ said Ren.
‘No,’ said Conor. His eyes were fixed, again, on the floor. ‘I know I’ve let myself down,’ he said. ‘I’ve let everyone down.’
‘You made some mistakes,’ said Ren. ‘You know better now.’
He looked up. ‘Thank you.’
Ren stood up. ‘And thank you for your time. Mr Bergin, could I speak with you alone outside?’
‘Sure, of course,’ he said. He closed the door behind him.
‘I’d like to ask you about a Cease and Desist you sent to a journalist in Butte, Montana, called Jonathan Black,’ said Ren.
Bergin processed the information. ‘Yes, he was about to write a defamatory article about the Prince family. I was instructed by my client to put a stop to that.’