The Kindness of Psychopaths

by Alan Gorevan

  Maureen staggered down the country road. Although she felt like hell, she was finally free. Her cardigan, and one of her shoes, had been lost when she wriggled out of the rug, but she didn’t care. Putting some distance between herself and that house was all she wanted to do. Maybe that man would chase her. A terrifying thought. She urged herself on.

  Chapter 96

  Joe sprinted towards the house, shaking off the stiffness he felt from being chained up. He reached the house without being seen, as far as he could tell. Once inside the kitchen, he stopped. A creepy stillness suffused the building.

  Joe’s Sig lay on the worktop. As quietly as he could, he picked the gun up and checked that it was loaded.

  Muffled voices carried from somewhere else in the house. Then the crashing sounds of a struggle. From above or below?

  Moving carefully, he followed the sound to the open door to the hall, then to an open doorway. He poked his head through. Steps led downwards. Joe could see nothing of what was in the basement. But he could hear voices.

  He stood there and listened, feeling a chill of horror as Ken spoke.

  Wall said, “You don’t mean… you couldn’t mean… you ate her?”

  “Of course not. Why would I want to eat her? You ate her.”

  “What?”

  “After she disappeared, I served her up to you, one meal at a time. Remember all those chilli dinners I brought you?” Ken laughed. “A good food processor can handle just about anything.”

  Joe began to creep down the steps. They were old and wooden, and he didn’t trust them not to creak, so he kept the gun raised, ready to shoot. And though he’d never shot anyone in the line of duty, he would have no problem with making Ken Wall the first.

  “That can’t be true,” Wall said.

  “I can assure you that it is. And you wouldn’t believe the amount of seasoning I needed to make her palatable. So much basil. So many peppers. I tasted her, but only to make sure she was edible. I have to say, it was funny watching you look for her everywhere, while you literally had her right in front of you, day after day. For weeks, you ate her.”

  Ken broke out laughing.

  As Joe reached the bottom of the staircase, he caught sight of the brothers. Ken was standing with his back to Joe, a hammer in his hand.

  Barry Wall lay on the floor at Ken’s feet, a trickle of blood coming down the side of his head. Wall was dry heaving, his eyes half-closed, and he looked to be losing whatever will to live that had carried him along over the last year. Perhaps he was in shock. No surprise given what Ken had just said.

  Joe continued down. The next stair, the third from the bottom, creaked when Joe stepped on it. Ken looked around.

  Joe brought up the Sig. Before he could squeeze off a shot, Ken hurled the hammer through the air. The bastard had good aim. The hammer caught Joe in the stomach and the blow winded him. He doubled over in pain.

  When he’d recovered, Ken was disappearing from view. Joe ran after him and saw him jump up on a workbench and squeeze himself through a narrow window near the ceiling.

  Joe swore, then went to check on Barry Wall.

  He hunkered down next to him and checked his pulse. It was weak. His eyes were unfocused and he looked disoriented.

  After all the work Joe had done to capture this man, it was sad to see him like this.

  “I heard what Ken said.”

  “I was wrong,” Wall said in a small voice.

  “I was too. I’m sorry.”

  “Promise me…”

  “What?”

  Wall held out his closed fist. He opened his fingers to reveal a necklace. “Give this to Valentina’s parents.”

  “I will,” Joe said. “Hold on, Barry. Help is on its way.”

  Wall shook his head. “There’s a bomb.”

  “In the stables? I know.”

  Wall whispered. “There are more.”

  “Where?”

  Joe leaned closer, but Wall’s eyes closed. His chest stopped rising and falling. He had already joined Valentina.

  Chapter 97

  With the detonator in one hand, Ken jogged uphill to the shed at the back of the property. That was where the motorbikes were, and a motorbike would be better than the van for getting away.

  Things hadn’t gone as he’d planned. But he never had been very good at sticking to plans. Usually impatience set in quickly and, when that happened, plans went to hell.

  The whole point of breaking Barry out of jail was to set him up for the murders – not just Valentina, but all the ones Ken had done over the years. That wasn’t going to be easy now.

  Oh, well.

  He’d just have to leave a mess behind.

  Ken could assume a new identity. It wasn’t hard. He’d start a new cycle of murders somewhere else. Spain maybe. There’d be some irony in that. Or America. Or Australia. Anywhere but here. He was bored of Ireland anyway.

  As he approached the shed, a helicopter thud thud thudded past, low overhead. Ken threw himself on the ground. He crawled to the treeline next to the path, waited for the chopper to pass, then got to his feet and hurried to the shed.

  Everything was as he’d left it. Motorbikes weren’t the only things there. Ken had other fun stuff, like a mini fridge stocked with beer, and a case containing a sniper rifle.

  Joe Byrne would be coming after him. It would be a pretty thing to take that asshole’s head off before Ken made his escape.

  First he slipped the detonator into his jacket pocket, then opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of beer. He realised he hadn’t had anything to drink for hours. Beating the living shit out of Donnelly and Byrne had been thirsty work.

  He tore off the cap and took a long drag on the bottle.

  Then he loaded the sniper rifle, fitted the scope, and walked outside with the beer bottle tucked into his jacket pocket.

  He walked down the path to a place where he could look over the property from an elevation of about forty-five feet.

  It was a shame to waste such a good slope. Ken could almost hear his father’s voice.

  I’m gonna roll you down the hill, you little bastards.

  Yeah, Dad would have loved rolling Barry and Ken down this fucking hill. Never a man likely to win Father of the Year. But Ken had learned lessons from him. Like the power you held over people when they feared you, and how much fun it was to blow shit up.

  Aidan Donnelly and Christopher O’Malley were walking towards the gate.

  Patrol cars with sirens blazing were coming up the road now, and the helicopter was circling back. Ken thought Barry was probably dead. Ken couldn’t see Joe. He was probably still in the basement.

  He’d better kill them all. There was always a chance that this could blow over, if he destroyed enough evidence, though that was pretty unlikely. Anyway, he’d see how the cards fell.

  Ken drank the rest of the beer, then threw the bottle into the bushes.

  He raised the detonator and squeezed the button.

  Chapter 98

  Joe didn’t follow Ken through the basement window. Ken already had a head start, and if he wanted to, he could be waiting out there, with a hammer in his hand and a smile on his face. His confession had chilled Joe. Joe had encountered some violent men over the years, but none of them made his skin crawl the way Ken Wall did.

  Joe climbed the stairs, gun in hand.

  The idea of a number of bombs on the property made him feel sick. He hoped Christopher and Donnelly were far away by now.

  As he got to the top of the stairs and ran to the door of the house, he thought of Kevin Boyle. Was he still lurking here too? Or had he taken the money and run back to Ger Barrett, in the hopes of saving his own life?

  Joe stepped out into the air. The land rose to his right. He turned left, in the direction of the stables and the path to the road. Christopher and Donnelly hadn’t gone far at all. In fact, they were standing at the gate like a couple of idiots.

  And not only that, they were now walki
ng back in, towards Joe. Forgetting everything else, he set off at a sprint towards them.

  “Get back,” he shouted. “Go onto the road.”

  But they didn’t seem to hear. Ken didn’t strike Joe as someone to hang around. He was going to want to get moving. And Joe doubt he wanted to leave anyone behind to tell the tale.

  Donnelly had a horrified look on his face, and he was hurrying to the place at the inside of the gate, where a rolled-up rug lay next to a barrel. Joe couldn’t figure out what Donnelly was up to. Joe kept running. As he got closer, he saw a yellow cardigan next to the rug. A shoe too.

  Donnelly continued running in that direction and Christopher hurried after him.

  Joe increased his pace. He shouted, “Get away from there!”

  Christopher stopped, but Donnelly ignored him.

  “Auntie?” Donnelly cried. “Auntie?”

  “Get away from the barrel,” Joe shouted. “For god’s sake, Christopher, run!”

  Joe kept running towards them. Christopher suddenly seemed to wake up. He turned away from Donnelly, the rug and the barrel. Joe reached Christopher and dragged him away from there. He shouted Donnelly’s name over his shoulder, but at that moment the barrel exploded, and Donnelly was consumed by a ball of flame.

  A moment later, the other bombs detonated too.

  Chapter 99

  Ken watched the explosions with a smile. The stables blast was huge, tearing the walls off the building and engulfing Byrne’s car. A huge pine tree was also toppled by the blast.

  The barrel near the entrance also blew nicely. Donnelly went up in it, but Ken wasn’t sure if it took out Byrne’s son. At the last moment, Ken caught sight of a man’s figure near the boy. Maybe it was Byrne, or else it was the first of the emergency services, who were now streaming up to the gate. Ken couldn’t see much through the swirling smoke and the tongues of flame arcing into the sky.

  Another blast occurred in the basement of the house. From the hill where Ken stood, he saw the basement window blow out.

  If Joe was still there, he wouldn’t have survived.

  Still, Ken watched the basement window through the sniper scope, in case there was any sign of movement.

  After a minute, there had still been nothing, so he decided to go. Patrol cars were streaming onto the property and things were going to get hot. Ken retraced his steps to the shed. With the rifle swung over his shoulder, he wheeled his motorbike out of the shed. He looked towards the back gate.

  Funny.

  An old Ford Escort was parked just outside.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Ken saw movement, in the trees next to the trail. Coming towards him. A man running fast.

  Joe Byrne?

  In one fluid motion, Ken swung around, brought the rifle up, and shot the man square in the chest.

  Chapter 100

  As bombs went off all around them, Joe pushed Christopher to the ground, and flung himself on top of him. The nearest blast swallowed Donnelly. He didn’t stand a chance. A little earlier, Joe might have been glad to see him dead. Now he felt ashamed. He was only glad he’d had time to apologise.

  Smoke and heat roared over them like a river. It felt like the flames were licking Joe’s ears. Debris shot through the air – lethal shards of super-heated metal and stone.

  He kept his head down and waited for the dust to settle. When it did, he helped Christopher to his feet. He looked back at where Donnelly had been standing. Nothing that could be obviously identified as a person remained.

  Christopher said, “Look, an ambulance.”

  Joe turned and looked where he was pointing. Sure enough, an ambulance had pulled up on the road outside, waiting its turn to come in after a fire engine and a stream of patrol cars. Uniformed officers were jumping out of cars and vans, and swarming in.

  Joe saw Dunne arrive in her Lexus. Lisa sat next to her in the front passenger seat. Joe would never forget the look of relief on Lisa’s face when she caught sight of Christopher.

  “Run over to your mother,” Joe said.

  “What about you?”

  “I have to find Ken Wall.”

  Joe shoved Christopher towards the Lexus. Then he set off running, around the side of the stables, to where the treeline began, and into the undergrowth.

  Joe took the long way around the property, moving as fast as he could through the thick forest. It was rough work, but he figured he’d be dead if he walked up the path by the house. He didn’t want to become another trophy in Ken’s box.

  By the time he’d climbed the incline and skirted the property, he was out of breath. He found himself standing behind a shed. The back gate was within view, and Kevin Boyle’s car was parked there. The sneaky bastard. Joe took a moment to catch his breath, so that when he came out into the open, he’d be ready.

  He pulled out his Sig and was about to step out when he saw movement in the trees on the other side of the path.

  He hunkered down and waited for a good shot.

  After a moment, he realised that the running figure was Boyle, not Ken. He must have been trying to get to his car, and escape with Barrett’s money before he got caught up in this.

  Joe was about to call out, to tell him to stop, when a terrifyingly loud gunshot rang out.

  Boyle dropped to the ground like a felled deer.

  Joe’s pulse was working overtime, a crazy, overclocked beat that would land him in hospital if he kept it up. He forced himself to stay motionless as Ken walked down the trail and came into view. Carrying a rifle with a scope, Ken ambled over to where Boyle lay.

  Joe took the opportunity to sneak over to the back of the shed. Pressing himself against it, he peered around the side.

  Boyle was still alive, but only just. Joe saw a spray of blood droplets shoot into the air when he coughed. His chest was a mess of gore. At point blank range, Ken pointed the rifle at him. Joe had never liked Boyle, but the man didn’t deserve this.

  Joe stepped out onto the path.

  Ken heard him coming and turned. He brought the rifle up, but not fast enough.

  Joe squeezed the trigger of his Sig.

  The first shot hit Ken in the shoulder. The second got him between the eyes.

  Ken dropped to the ground.

  He was dead. No doubt about it. His trophy box fell out of his pocket. It opened, spilling necklaces onto the ground. Joe stared in horror. How many women had this monster killed? A chill went up his spine.

  He went to check on Boyle. He was twitching.

  “Hold on,” Joe said. “Just hold on.”

  But even as he spoke, the light faded from Boyle’s eyes. There was a look of confusion on his face – pain too – but then acceptance washed over his features, and, finally, peace.

  Joe stood there for half a minute, looking at the body at his feet. Then he put the Sig away, turned and walked down the path.

  The uniforms were swarming all over the place.

  Joe caught sight of Dunne, standing with David O’Carroll, surrounded by a retinue of uniforms. He walked over to them.

  “Jesus,” O’Carroll said, catching sight of Joe. “You’re alive. You look dreadful.”

  The fire brigade was spraying the wreck of Joe’s car. As soon as the blaze was out, they’d find the body inside. John Kavanagh. Or whatever was left of him.

  It was all over.

  The important thing was that Lisa and Christopher were okay. If Joe had to go to jail to make that happen, he would.

  He closed his eyes and waited to be arrested.

  Chapter 101

  “What the bloody hell has been going on here?” David O’Carroll asked, looking around. The vein in the middle of his forehead looked like it was about to rupture. “Where’s Barry Wall?”

  Joe could understand his boss’s confusion.

  He said, “Wall is dead. So is Donnelly. We were wrong about him. I was wrong about him. Aidan Donnelly never touched Valentina López Vázquez.”

  “What?” O’Carroll gaped.


  “Ken Wall killed her. And she wasn’t his first.”

  “Is Kevin Boyle here?” Dunne asked.

  Joe pointed up the trail towards the back of the property.

  “He’s dead. Ken shot him. You’ll find his body up there.”

  O’Carroll said, “Where’s Ken?”

  “He’s dead too. I shot him.” Joe took out his Sig and handed it to a uniformed officer wearing gloves. She slipped the gun into an evidence bag. Joe said, “You’ll find Ken’s body beside Boyle’s. I wasn’t able to save Boyle.”

  O’Carroll scowled. “I’ve never seen so much bloodshed in all my life. My head is spinning.”

  Joe was too numb to tell O’Carroll that his head was about to spin even faster, once he realised he’d have to arrest Joe in connection with John Kavanagh’s death.

  Lisa and Christopher had been speaking to a uniformed officer. But when Joe looked their way, it broke the spell. Christopher came running over. Lisa followed and they both hugged him. He was sore from the beating he had taken, but he hugged them both fiercely.

  An unmarked car pulled up next to them. Detective Superintendent Michael Kavanagh stepped out. Joe couldn’t recall a superintendent ever coming out to a crime scene. Only something tremendous would get one out of his office.

  “Where’s my son?” Kavanagh shouted. “Has he been found?”

  Time to take the blame.

  Joe opened his mouth – and then a thought struck him.

  He said, “What makes you think your son is here?”

  “I got a tip-off.”

  Dunne came up beside the superintendent. Now Joe’s head was really about to explode. Maybe he wasn’t thinking straight but he had trouble understanding what was happening. John Kavanagh’s body was here, but there was no way the superintendent could have been aware of that. Who could have told him?

  Joe’s brain hurt. He was too tired to try and figure it out.

  He pointed at his car, knowing that he was about sixty seconds away from being handcuffed and taken away in the back of a patrol car.

  The fire which had engulfed Joe’s car was now out, though a little smoke rose from the shredded, twisted heap of metal.