The Kindness of Psychopaths

by Alan Gorevan

  Chapter 78

  At the Highfield Academy, Lisa took a seat in the back row and waited for the recital to begin. She wanted to be at the front, but the best seats were already taken. She’d been late, delayed by the men in her life.

  Graham had scared her earlier, when she tried to dump him. The cold expression on his face – she hadn’t been able to get it out of her mind. And when he’d said no, that they shouldn’t spend some time apart, she’d been too surprised to argue. He’d turned charming a moment later, told her he loved her and Christopher, and suggested that they talk later. Then he’d gone out, saying he wanted to clear things up with his landlord.

  Then there was Joe, with his questions about money, and his anger at her for breaking his heart. She hadn’t thought he could still hang onto such pain after all these years.

  Lisa tried to push those thoughts out of her mind as the principal walked out onto the stage.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, proud parents, you’re in for a treat this afternoon,” he said.

  Lisa took a breath. She was here to support her son. This was a big moment for him. She’d enjoy the recital and she hoped he did too, despite everything that was going on.

  When the principal stepped aside, students with instruments walked out onto the stage. Not one of them was Christopher.

  Chapter 79

  Joe cycled home at a frantic pace. With every second that went by, the backpack of money was moving away from him. He needed a car so he could follow it.

  His phone rang as he reached the lane behind his house. It was Lisa. He ignored her and jumped off the bike. He wheeled it up the garden path and in the back door. In the hallway, he stood the bike up against the wall, the place where everyone in the building left their bikes.

  His phone rang again.

  Lisa again.

  He ignored the call. As soon as it stopped ringing, Joe used his phone to check the GPS tracker, which showed that the money was still moving.

  He walked to the front door of the building and pulled it open. Dunne’s Lexus was parked right outside, in the same place as it had been when he left. Dunne saw Joe and stepped out of the car. He didn’t like the fact that she looked furious.

  His phone rang again. Lisa again.

  This time he answered.

  He said, “I’m a little busy. Can I call you back?”

  “Joe? Did a detective go to the school to talk to Christopher?”

  “What? No. Why?”

  “I can’t find Christopher. They say someone came to talk to him, and now we don’t know where he is.”

  Joe’s stomach fell. “But he was doing his recital, right?”

  “He didn’t show up. He’s – he’s gone.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  Joe ended the call and ran outside. Dunne was standing on the footpath. She tried to talk to him.

  “Not now,” Joe said.

  He got in the Honda and headed straight for the Highfield Academy. He needed to track down the blackmailer before the phone battery died, but Christopher came first. Hopefully there was an innocent explanation. But what if there wasn’t? What if something had happened?

  Clyde Road was packed with fancy cars belonging to Highfield Academy parents. Joe parked down the road and ran up to the school, pushing through clusters of parents standing around inside the door. Everyone had a glass of wine and was munching on nibbles. Joe found Lisa standing at the reception desk, leaning over the secretary.

  “Hey,” Joe said. He saw panic in Lisa’s face. He squeezed her arm lightly, hoping to reassure her. “Anything new?”

  “Joe, this woman won’t tell me anything. She insists they did nothing wrong.”

  “Excuse me, Ms. O’Malley—”

  Lisa jabbed her index finger at the receptionist. “You let someone talk to Christopher and now you can’t find him. You have no idea what happened.”

  “Please lower your voice, Ms. O’Malley. We’re looking for your son. Please take a seat for a moment.”

  Lisa slammed her fist on the desk. Joe had never seen her look so angry.

  She said, “I’ve been waiting for fifteen minutes. This is a small building! Are you fucking defective? Where is he?”

  The receptionist gaped at her in silence.

  Joe said, “Have you tried his mobile?”

  “Of course, I have. I guess he turned it off before the recital.”

  “Maybe one of his classmates knows something. Who’s his best friend?” he asked.

  Lisa said, “A boy named Peter.”

  “Is he here?”

  “I don’t know. I think I saw him earlier, in the garden.”

  Joe followed Lisa as she hurried down the corridor to the garden. Dozens of parents stood around, reflecting on the recital, chatting to each other and to the teachers.

  “Him,” Lisa said, pointing to a teenage boy.

  She led Joe over to him. Joe caught the suspicious look the boy’s mother gave as Lisa approached.

  “Is everything alright?” the lady said icily.

  “My son is missing,” Lisa said.

  “What do you mean?”

  Lisa turned her attention to the boy.

  “Peter, do you know where Christopher is?”

  The boy looked at his feet. “I saw him with some man.”

  “Some man?” Joe said. “Who was he? Did they go somewhere together?”

  Peter shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Lisa said, “This is important.”

  The boy’s mother frowned. “Take it easy, Lisa.”

  “What did the man look like?” Joe said.

  “I only saw him for a second. He was bald.”

  “Was he a big man?”

  Peter said, “Average.” He thought for a moment. “Maybe he wasn’t with Christopher. I’m not sure. But I saw Christopher near the door. There was a bald man near him.”

  Lisa took Joe’s arm and pulled him aside. She said, “Who’s this man? Do you think it’s Barry Wall?”

  “No, Wall is as big as a mountain.”

  “Then what?”

  “What if the man has nothing to do with it?” Joe said, “What if Christopher left voluntarily? Where would he go?”

  Lisa said. “Home?”

  “Let’s take a drive.”

  Joe gave the receptionist his number as he passed her desk, and told her to call if Christopher turned up. Lisa followed Joe out to his Honda.

  He pulled away from the kerb with a screech of rubber. Dunne’s Lexus appeared in the rear-view mirror, right behind him.

  “Let’s check around here,” Joe said.

  He did a loop of the block, but there was no sign of Christopher, so he continued driving around, thinking about where the boy might have gone. He drove to the road separating the two sides of Herbert Park. Ignoring the beep of the car behind, he slowed down so they could scan the area.

  Lisa said, “Joe, what if someone did something to him?”

  The thought sent a pulse of panic through him. Wall wasn’t able to get to Joe because of all the surveillance. But he might target Joe’s son. Could it have been one of his accomplices? Could it have been Ken Wall? He wasn’t the kind to get his hands dirty, but maybe he’d make an exception to help his brother exact revenge.

  Lisa said, “That boy, John Kavanagh.”

  Joe tensed. “What about him? I don’t think John Kavanagh did anything to Christopher.”

  “He couldn’t have. But what if someone else wants payback?”

  Joe stared at her.

  “Payback for what? And how do you know John Kavanagh couldn’t have done anything?” Joe said slowly.

  Lisa’s eyes darted around.

  “I mean – I mean, he’s missing too… so…”

  Joe brought the Honda to a stop at the side of the road.

  “As of this moment, John Kavanagh is missing,” Joe said. “That doesn’t mean he couldn’t have hurt Christopher.”

  “Yeah. You’re right,” she s
aid quickly.

  “Unless you have reason to believe that John Kavanagh is more than just missing.”

  She was just inches from Joe, her face turned towards him. Her eyes were big like a deer’s. Joe could practically hear her brain squirming as she tried to find a convincing explanation for what she’d said. She knew more than she was letting on.

  Had Christopher put that knife in John Kavanagh’s side, after all?

  Lisa started crying. Her scrunched-up face turned red. Watery snot dripped from her nose. The tears were almost as shocking as her slip of the tongue. Lisa O’Malley wasn’t a crier. Sensitive, yes. Emotional, yes. But not tearful. She struggled to get a tissue out of her pocket, then held it in front of her mouth as if she didn’t know what to do with it.

  “Take it easy,” Joe said. “Slow, deep breaths.”

  She nodded, and looked down at her hands, which were resting on her lap. “Okay.”

  “Slower.” Joe waited a minute for her to calm down. Then he said, “Do you know what happened to John Kavanagh? Did Christopher kill him?”

  “No,” Lisa said quietly. “I did.”

  Chapter 80

  Lisa watched Joe’s face. He was reeling from the realisation. Lisa could see that. She was reeling too. And yet, there was a sense of relief once she started talking. She’d been keeping it all bottled up, and she wasn’t sure she would have been able to keep it to herself much longer. Joe listened in silence as she told him what had happened.

  It started after she’d talked to him on the phone, when Joe told Lisa he hadn’t spoken to the principal. She’d been so disappointed, so angry. It was as if he was unwilling to do even the smallest thing for Christopher.

  She was alone at home. She phoned the Highfield Academy and got put through to the principal’s office, but the principal didn’t answer. Lisa left a message, probably sounding like a crazy person, venting to the answering the machine that Christopher was a sensitive boy, fragile, and that someone was bullying him so badly he’d tried to end his own life. The machine cut her off before she finished speaking. She hadn’t even got around to mentioning the bully’s name yet.

  That made her feel so helpless. Like no one was listening to her. She walked into the kitchen to pour herself a calming glass of Cabernet Sauvignon when she noticed that a knife was missing from the block on the counter.

  Christopher had attempted an overdose the previous night. He had promised he’d never do anything like that again, but who knew? Like Joe said, teenagers acted crazy sometimes. What if Christopher planned to slit his wrists this time? Maybe he’d do it at school. Or after school, somewhere quiet. Somewhere like Herbert Park.

  Lisa grabbed her raincoat and ran out the door, hurrying towards the park. She took the route Christopher usually walked, hoping to meet him on the way. She slipped into the park near the playing fields. By then the rain was getting heavy and visibility was low.

  She made out a form through the rain. A Highfield Academy boy, in that distinctive, pompous uniform. She hurried towards him, but slowed when she saw that it wasn’t Christopher. This boy was taller, older.

  Then she saw Christopher behind the first boy. Through the rain, she saw him pull out a knife. The older boy, John Kavanagh, turned around. There was a struggle. Kavanagh knocked Christopher down. The knife went flying.

  Lisa shouted, but the rain drowned out her voice.

  So she ran through the grass.

  When she reached the two boys, Christopher was flat on his back in the wet grass. Kavanagh was standing over him. Christopher’s eyes widened when he saw Lisa there.

  “Mum?”

  Kavanagh turned. He looked taken aback for a second, but his face then twisted into an ugly smile.

  “You brought your mommy to help you? Huh, you fat piece of shit?”

  Kavanagh sat on Christopher’s chest, then started pummelling him.

  “Stop it!” Lisa screamed. She ran over, grabbed Kavanagh, and tried to pull him off her son, but he was big and strong. And he wasn’t scared of her. With one arm, he pushed her away.

  She fell onto the ground. In the wet grass, her hand touched against something cold and sharp. Her kitchen knife.

  “Mum,” Christopher called.

  Kavanagh turned and stood over her. The look in his eye was blank, dead.

  “Maybe I should fuck your mother,” Kavanagh said. He smiled. “How about that, fat boy? You can watch if you like. Then I’ll slit both your throats.”

  The bully was as sick and depraved as Christopher had said. Lisa could see it in his eyes.

  He took a step closer to her.

  “You’re a bit old for my tastes. I’m not a big fan of crow’s feet.”

  Christopher struggled to his feet. He grabbed Kavanagh from behind. But he was no match for the larger boy, who wriggled easily out of his grasp, then punched Christopher in the gut. A devastating blow that made Christopher double over, and which tore Lisa’s heart to shreds.

  “Stop it, stop it!” she screamed.

  She watched Kavanagh hit her son again. And again.

  Christopher’s eyes closed.

  A hot rage came over Lisa, sending flickers of fury through her body, down to her fingertips. She hardly knew what she was doing, but suddenly she was standing, and the knife was in her hand.

  She tugged at Kavanagh, trying to pull him away from Christopher, but he was too strong. He punched Christopher a few more times, then turned his nasty little eyes on her. Slowly, he licked his lips. Then he launched himself at her.

  Lisa panicked and sank the knife into his side. The blade passed through his flimsy shirt and through his flimsy skin, between two ribs and, Lisa thought, probably right into his lung. A wave of panic washed over her. Kavanagh reached out as if he wanted to touch her face. She pulled out the knife and stabbed it into him again.

  For a couple of seconds, Kavanagh opened and closed his mouth like a fish. Then he toppled face-first to the ground. Soon, he stopped moving.

  Christopher’s eyes were wide with shock.

  “Run,” Lisa said.

  “What?”

  “Go home. Run. Now.”

  Christopher looked at Kavanagh uncertainly.

  “What about you?”

  “Christopher, go,” she screamed.

  Slowly, hesitatingly, he began to run.

  Lisa bent down beside Kavanagh. He was dead, she thought. There was nothing she could do. Someone would be along any second. Only the rain was keeping people away. Christopher had not gone far. Lisa hurried after him, grabbing him and dragging him away from the scene.

  She put up her hood, zipped the jacket shut and made Christopher do the same. There was blood on his jacket, but Lisa wiped it away and the rain helped too.

  She hurried him home, making sure they kept their hoods up and their heads down. No one could know about this. No one could ever know.

  When they arrived home, Lisa took a look at her son.

  “Christopher? Oh my God. You’re bleeding,” she said.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. You’re cut.”

  Christopher looked like he might be in shock.

  “It’s nothing. It wasn’t… it’s nothing.”

  “What happened?” she asked. “Why are you bleeding?”

  She was almost hysterical. Had Kavanagh cut him?

  “I fell down. That’s all. I fell down when I was in the park. It’s nothing.”

  “Christopher, don’t lie.”

  “I’m fine. I swear.”

  “We need to be honest with each other.”

  “I know that.”

  “I’ll get a plaster for you, and some antiseptic.”

  Christopher looked down at himself.

  “I should get cleaned up first. I’m covered in mud.”

  “Okay,” Lisa said. Her head was spinning. “Go and have a shower.”

  He needed to get cleaned up. What else? Hadn’t she heard that people who had suffered a shock needed su
gar? Or was that a myth? She ducked into the kitchen and found a smoothie in the fridge. Back in the hall, she pushed the drink into his hands.

  “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s good for you. You’ll feel better.”

  Christopher choked down the drink. Lisa had no idea why she thought a smoothie would help, when the problem was that she’d killed a boy.

  Chapter 81

  Joe said nothing while Lisa spoke. The sun shone through the front windscreen and lit her up like God was listening to her confession too. When she was done, they were both silent for a while.

  Lisa blew her nose while Joe let what she’d said sink in. He found it incredible that she could have stabbed John Kavanagh, even during a struggle. Lisa was the gentlest person he’d ever known. But he knew how fiercely she loved Christopher, and it sounded like John Kavanagh had been a nasty piece of work, a bit like his father.

  “I know what you have to do,” Lisa said. “I won’t blame you.”

  Joe blinked, looked at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “I need to find Christopher. Make sure he’s alright. I know you have to arrest me, but, please, let me make sure Christopher is okay first.”

  “Lisa—”

  She blinked and said, “It’s a relief to let all this stuff out. That I’m responsible for the boy’s death. I’ve been waiting to hear that the body had been found. It feels like I’ve been waiting forever. Hasn’t it been found, Joe? Surely someone has found the body by now?”

  He took her hand, and she let him. He felt such tenderness for her at that moment that it almost overwhelmed him.

  He said, “Listen to me. You can’t tell anyone else what you just told me. No one. Ever.”

  “But I did it. I killed him.”

  “No, you didn’t. Not if anyone asks. I’m not going to arrest you.”

  “But Joe—”

  “I was there.”

  “What?”

  “I went to the park too, so I could meet Christopher as he walked home. I parked by the gate, and I saw Christopher and Kavanagh in the park.”

  She put a hand to her mouth. “Did you see me?”