‘We’re done,’ she said. ‘I need to be able to trust my partner. It’s important to me. I can’t do this any more. Not with you.’
‘Okay, Jocelyn can find out about me and Greg or she can go on living a lie. She doesn’t need you to fight her battles when she doesn’t care enough to fight them for herself.’ My voice was thick with tears. ‘But everyone’s life is fucked up in some way, yours included, and right now Zara Reede’s life is fucked up more than most. Can’t we set aside our differences for now and close this case – for Zara. For River?’
Linskey glared back at me. She seemed willing to lose our partnership for a superficial friendship with a woman she had nothing in common with apart from failed marriages. It was why she liked Zara, why she had once liked me.
I waited for some kind of response. Then she nodded just the once.
‘But we’re done once this case is over,’ she said, as she swept past me out through the door.
Chapter 44
In February of 2015, a month after Jason and I ‘split’ – as Coral believed it to be – she came into the toilets on the ferry to check on me.
‘I’m fine,’ I told her, despite the fact that I was cramping up a storm and dropping more blood into the bowl than I’d imagined possible when there had been so little of anything to lose.
The place was disgusting. The sanitary bin was already overflowing and I had to find somewhere else to tuck the two sodden maxi pads I’d been wearing for the last half hour.
‘You obviously aren’t fine,’ Coral replied, the toes of her brown leather boots pointing my way underneath the toilet door. ‘We should have stayed another night in the hotel.’
‘I can’t do that,’ I said, standing up and losing more blood with the effort. ‘I’ve missed enough work of late.’
I washed my hands in the corner sink while the ferry pitched in a way I had become familiar with. It was how I’d been feeling for weeks – almost ghostly, like I too had left this body.
‘I’d have been happy ordering pills online,’ I said into the mirror.
‘Even though it’s illegal?’ said Coral, fetching me a bundle of paper towels to dry my hands.
‘It’s a stupid law.’
‘Be that as it may …’ She stopped herself. She looked as though she dearly wanted to give me a lecture, her silly little sister, silliest when with her twin and just about tolerable on her own. ‘You need to keep yourself right, Harry,’ she said.
‘I need to keep myself right?’
‘I know you’re going through The Split, but I’m here now. I’m here to help you.’
‘Sorry that’s fallen to you,’ I said.
‘What do you think Jason would think about this jaunt to England?’ she asked, rubbing my arm. I pulled away. ‘Forget I said that,’ she said softly. ‘It’s your body and it’s done now.’
‘It certainly is done,’ I said.
‘Are you okay if I go and get us a drink?’
I nodded. ‘I think I could manage a glass of Merlot,’ I added.
‘I’ll get us both tea.’ She pulled the door open and left me there.
I waited for a few moments, then went onto the deck and watched as the loaded grey sea pulled and pushed against itself, as if possessed by demons rising up from under the water. It was raining, just a mizzle you could barely see against the mist. It sat on my face like sweat.
I pulled my long winter coat around me and felt the potential of a baby I couldn’t take a chance on leave my body in hot, fresh drips.
*
Two days after I returned from my ‘jaunt’ to England and vacated the spare room in Coral’s house for the peace of my new apartment in St George’s Harbour, I spoke to Chief Dunne on the phone.
‘I’ve no right to ask if you are … pregnant,’ the Chief said, ‘only from a safety point of view we will need to run a risk assessment, understand?’
‘No baby on board here, Chief,’ I promised my boss. ‘No husband either, any more. But I do have a new home. Actually, I need to speak to someone about changing my address, for the record …’ I wanted to leave hints of the wars I had just survived and be asked if I was okay by someone I truly respected.
‘HR,’ the Chief simply said, but I knew that if I got back to the station and stuck by his side, he’d give me something more eventually.
And two months later, he did. We were delivering training at the Police College at Garnerville that April when he said over a canteen lunch, ‘You should be higher up the ranks, you know. You, Sloane, deserve to be Superintendent more than anybody on our team.’ Then he told me how much he respected the fact that I’d left a ‘personal situation’ because it wasn’t right for me; it must have taken ‘real guts’, he said.
It doesn’t sound like the start of a great romance, but it was.
A year and a half later, I was still sitting at the same rank and pregnant for the second time in my life. It was downright dysfunctional, but somehow it felt like the right time – for me, at least. I couldn’t care less what was best for Greg Dunne. He already had his family, and who knew if I’d ever have the chance to be pregnant again. Or if I’d ever want to be.
When I returned from England I spent a week in bed, fearing that at any second I could die. There followed a year and a half of being stalked by my husband until I had shrunk to a tiny, barely visible creature, unless they needed me to be their voice or their hero. Then, when he seemed to have finally let up, came the solicitor’s letters.
I could depend on no one. I’d have this child and I’d heal, at last. It would be no part of Jason. Or Greg. It would spell out a future. That plan, it seemed to me, was the one that took the most guts.
Chapter 45
Lance Worth had the bearing of a lawyer in a US court drama. I didn’t bother sitting because he never did until he had to. It was his way of exerting leverage. He patrolled the floor, leaned over, put his hands on the table like he was born to be in the courtroom and his reputation preceded him
I leaned against the wall and folded my arms across my chest. My trousers were tighter across my swollen ovaries.
‘Your ex plans to take you to the cleaners, I do believe,’ Lance said.
Jason, knowing how much I hated Worth, was using a colleague of Worth’s for the divorce. I ignored Worth’s attempts to throw me off. People are like rules: the better you know them the easier they are to break.
‘Do you have anything on my client?’ Lance asked.
‘You already have our disclosure,’ I replied.
‘Fine, you have twenty-four hours with Mr Reede. After that you have to charge him or let him go.’
‘Well, since you took your sweet time in getting here, we have even less.’
Lance’s smile lit up his entire face. ‘Before we start,’ he said, ‘I need to take a shit. I’ll try not to take too long, but I can’t promise. I think it’s a bug.’ He winked.
*
At five p.m., or thereabouts, Donald Guy was at the desk, the custody sarge taking his details, and Higgins standing guard. Simon was putting Donald’s ring and watch into a bag.
‘What’s going on here?’ I asked.
Donald ignored me.
‘We had an incident,’ said Simon.
‘What kind?’
‘Guess.’
‘Hello, Detective Sloane,’ Donald said. He looked defiant.
‘To what do we owe the pleasure?’
‘More of the same,’ Simon said.
‘Images?’
Simon nodded.
‘Donald, you know you aren’t allowed to have a smartphone or a computer,’ I said.
‘I don’t.’
‘We got a call to the library by the Holywood Arches,’ Higgins explained. ‘Guess who was up to no good in the computer suite? He was trying to access banned sites. Do you want to hear what his searches were?’ Higgins went on.
I stared at him. ‘What are you doing, Donald?’
‘I’m sorry. That wee boy wasn’t
the only one. It’s a good thing I’m caught now. I can come clean.’
‘Exactly what do you need to come clean about?’
‘Over the years I’ve been bad to a lot of kids. I’ve been bad to lots of kids, caused them pain.’
‘River?’
‘No, not him. The kids I’m talking about, it was nothing other than touching.’
‘Christ!’ said Higgins.
‘Constable!’ I reprimanded him.
‘Finish processing Mr Guy and I’ll talk to him later,’ I told the desk sarge.
I walked off, dying to tell Amy Campbell that my theory about men like Donald had been right all along, that they couldn’t change their spots. Not much felt better than that.
Chapter 46
A sweat broke on Shane the moment we got in the room. It was like watching a fish move; they have to swim their entire lives. His leg jiggling under the desk. His eyes told their own story.
Linskey read him his rights. He listened, his ruddy face cocked sideways, his fingers spiralling the sagging elastic of his cuffs so we wouldn’t notice the burns up his arms.
‘Mr Reede, where were you on Sunday night?’ I asked.
Linskey sighed. Everything I did or said seemed to be annoying her.
‘No comment,’ Shane replied. This was Worth’s favourite tactic but not everyone heeded his advice.
‘Come on, you know the drill, Mr Reede,’ I said. ‘We need your cooperation. Did you have River to stay on Saturday night?’
‘No comment.’
‘Does River like the park, Shane?’ Linskey interjected.
‘No comment.’ He sipped the sweat from his top lip.
Worth was smiling to himself as he watched his client play his game. He didn’t care that we were searching for a four-year-old boy.
‘Do you know that River has epilepsy, Shane?’ Linskey asked. ‘Do you know how serious a condition that is? Without his medication he could be seriously ill.’
‘No comment.’
Linskey looked at me.
‘You said you went to stay with your mother in Monaghan,’ I said.
‘Is there an address for her?’ Linskey asked.
‘No comment.’
‘It strikes me as odd that you wouldn’t have got in touch with her when it was made public that your son was missing.’
He said nothing.
‘Shane?’
He sat up abruptly. ‘No comment.’
‘Where were you going without a spare wheel?’
He was silent.
‘Why would someone take that off their car?’
Nothing.
‘Is it because a distinctive wheel cover like that would make you stand out?’
Shane’s knee was jiggling away. He was a tic-ridden mess.
‘Our colleagues have spoken to Mr Cleary, Shane,’ I said. ‘Do you know Cahal Cleary?’
He glanced at Lance. Lance shook his head.
‘No comment.’ He looked down at the table.
‘Mr Cleary seems to think that your mother moved to New Zealand when you were very young and died in the late nineties. That that was why you were living with your grandmother. Does he have that right?’
Shane lifted his head and looked into my eyes. The skin around the perimeter of the bruise on his face was going green.
‘No comment.’
He looked down again.
‘Do you know that Bronagh Shaw is not Shaw any more,’ I said. ‘She got married and she’s two months pregnant. Isn’t that lovely news?’
He looked as though he knew this. He licked his bottom lip and didn’t speak.
Bronagh had been quick to get back to us. She said she was always telling Shane to get in touch with River, but he didn’t want to.
Shane stared at the wall now. Lance sat back, hands behind his head and smiled. I had to block him from my vision in case I punched him in the face.
‘It took you a while to come through as a dad, Shane,’ Linskey said, ‘but I know that to all intents and purposes you have River’s well-being at heart, don’t you?’ She spoke softly. ‘Don’t you just adore that boy?’
Shane went to answer, then he shut his mouth.
‘And Zara is very good with River too,’ added Linskey. ‘She’s very close to him. Any little problem and she finds a way to help your son. I know you do the best for River when he’s in your care.’
I placed a hand on the desk. ‘What Detective Linskey is saying, Shane, is that we know you want River home safe and sound, every bit as much as his mother does. Wouldn’t you agree?’
Shane coughed, his eyes pricked with tears. He started to blink furiously.
‘I think we’ll have a half-time interval,’ said Lance.
‘No, not yet,’ I said. ‘Shane, Zara was a bit over the top, don’t you think? All these rules about your son. It must have been hard to stick.’
Linskey scowled at me.
‘She’s overprotective, wouldn’t you agree?’
He sighed.
‘Shane, speak to me. We’re all on the same side. We’re all on River’s side. Help us.’
Shane closed his eyes.
‘What do you think about all this healthy eating, this breastfeeding palaver … all the things Zara did for River that other mums didn’t do? Was she overcompensating, do you think?’
He looked like he could be asleep.
‘Shane!’ I yelled.
He opened his eyes and yawned, rubbed his head.
‘What about the star chart?’ I said. ‘There’s one in your house too, so maybe it didn’t annoy you. Do you try to keep things consistent for River?’
‘No comment.’
‘I need to go to the toilet,’ Lance said. ‘Apologies, folks, I’ve had a dicky stomach all day.’
‘Did you make the chart or did Zara give it to you?’
‘No comment.’
‘It’s just that there’s this one thing, Shane,’ I said.
He suddenly looked up and I could see the penny drop.
‘The chart is on your kitchen wall at Brandon Terrace. And you did fill it in, Shane. In fact, tucked up the side of your microwave is four months’ worth of charts, so you were filling it in like Zara wanted you to. Most dads wouldn’t, not if they were separated and they thought the child didn’t need them.’ I paused to give him time to absorb what I was saying. ‘Some people have hinted that Zara was pedantic, but you mustn’t have thought she was. You must have seen that the chart helped, because River has more and more stickers on each one as time goes on. You even started adding ones that Zara didn’t do at her house. I see that you have ones for River tidying his room, and one for feeding the dog, isn’t that right?’
I looked him over. He was a sorry sight – unshaven, smelly, dressed in the same scruffy grey hoodie he’d been brought in in two days earlier.
‘Do you have a dog, Shane? Because we’ve had a call about a man who used to walk his dog in the early hours of the morning past Zara’s house. We were told that this man wore a hoodie, a grey hoodie. Might that have been you, Shane?’
‘I really must insist we break here,’ Worth piped up. ‘Mr Reede clearly has nothing to say. You clearly have nothing to charge him with. And I have clearly said that I need to use the bathroom – quite urgently.’
I disregarded Lance and looked Shane in the eye. ‘Why was there was a star in the chart on Monday morning?’
‘A mistake,’ he said.
‘May I remind you, Mr Reede, that you don’t have to answer,’ Worth instructed his client.
Linskey looked up at Shane, then at me. She seemed to think I was making this up.
‘What did River do to warrant a star on Monday?’ I said.
‘Was he with you on Monday morning, Shane?’ asked Linskey.
‘No comment.’ He pulled his cuffs down over his hands.
‘You took him back to the house on Sunday night, didn’t you.’
Shane coughed. ‘No comment.’
‘
You missed River. A weekend wasn’t long enough for you,’ I said, ‘so you got the boy to come down, open the door and you brought him back to yours again. You were in a habit with the chart so you carried it on.’
Shane covered his mouth like he might be sick. He shook his head.
‘We also noticed how spotless your kitchen is. That’s quite surprising for a man like you. But forensics did some testing for blood and they found traces on the floor, on the mop, and spattered up on to the oven door. You need more practice at cleaning, Shane.’
‘No,’ he said.
‘What’s that, Shane? Where were you really between leaving Belfast on the Sunday and seeing Cahal on Wednesday?’
He closed his eyes so he couldn’t see the words come out. ‘I was in a guest house.’
‘Where?’
‘Donegal.’
‘Donegal? We have reason to place you there on another occasion. Your prints were on our database from a burglary there on 6 January this year.’
He blinked.
‘And the jeep?’
‘I changed the plates,’ Shane admitted.
‘Where did you do that?’
‘In work.’
‘But your boss said he didn’t see you. Or was Ronnie lying for you, Shane?’
‘No comment.’
‘Now seems like a good time to take a break. I’m going to cease recording here,’ said Linskey.
I directed Shane to his cell where he now wanted to talk.
‘I would never hurt my son,’ he said. ‘Never.’
*
‘Worth’s a joke with his dicky stomachs,’ I said.
‘That’s always his game,’ said Linskey. ‘And the no comment interviews – no surprise there. The worthless shit!’ She gave me a wry smile.
My mobile bleeped. ‘It’s Charly,’ I said. ‘I have to take this.’
It turned out to be David. ‘Timothy is really sick,’ he said. ‘Charly is beside herself with worry. She’s going mad. Will you talk to her?’
‘Put her on,’ I said.
‘What will we do if we lose him, H?’ Charly asked me.
‘We won’t.’
She groaned. It sounded like it came from an animal.
‘I’m coming straight there as soon as I can. Hold tight. I promise you, he’ll be fine.’
The Sleeping Season Page 20