Taboo (27 page)

The interdepartmental briefing began at 8 a.m. sharp, but by 8.15, Reilly was still nowhere to be seen. Chris was worried – despite her reluctant agreement to let him handle things, had she in the meantime turned renegade and decided to pursue this her way?

That was the last thing he needed and already he regretted allowing her continued access to the evidence; it was a stupid spur-of-the-moment, completely unprofessional decision, but her concern for her father, and her sneaky aside about him walking a thin line of his own, had got to him.

Now, he just wished she’d show her face so that she could defend some of the accusations or at the very least, deflect some of the heat that O’Brien was currently throwing at him and Kennedy.

‘Jesus Christ! The press are having a bloody field day with this taboo thing and now you’re telling me one of our
own
is directly involved!’

‘Not quite one of our own,’ Jack Gorman put in smugly and Chris knew the older man was dancing an inward jig at the new revelation Chris had just outlined. ‘I worried from the start that Steel wasn’t to be trusted. For one thing her methods are—’

‘Shut it, Gorman,’ Kennedy interjected and Chris looked up, surprised. While his partner seemed to have developed a grudging respect for Reilly over time, he’d been incandescent upon hearing that her sister had become a suspect, which Chris was sure meant all bets were off when it came to co-operating with her any longer. ‘Her insights have got us a lot further in this thing than yours would have.’

‘And how do we know these so-called insights aren’t merely figments of her imagination designed to throw us off the scent?’ the older man argued. ‘How do we know Steel herself isn’t
knee deep in all of this and helping cover it up?’

‘For Christ sake, Gorman, her family background is on her personnel file, there for all to see,’ Chris retorted. ‘And if the top brass were confident that this wasn’t an issue, then we should be too.
Right, sir?’

O’Brien met his gaze. ‘Well, this morning, I must admit my first instinct was to think like Jack but yes, I myself knew about Steel’s family situation before she was brought in to the GFU. Difference is
, we were told the sister had been locked away.’

‘She was – up until six months ago,’ Daniel Forrest, who’d so far remained silent, clarified and Chris wondered if Reilly had yet forgiven him for keeping her in the dark about that.

‘So what about it then, Forrest?’ the Inspector asked. ‘You’re supposed to be the expert; could the sister seriously be in the mix for this?’

‘I’m afraid so. Jessica Steel is a classic sociopath. From what I know of her psychological background, she’s perfectly capable of such violent acts and, in my opinion, is very likely the person behind these murders.’

‘But why?’ he thundered. ‘And never mind how –how she gained access to the country in the first place is one for your own boys in the States.’

Gorman was shaking his head. ‘I don’t know why we’re even entertaining this. I’ve looked at the case files and there’s nothing, not a single shred of evidence supporting Mr Forrest’s claims that Steel’s sister is connected to these killings. If anything, this is little more than a personal spat between two family members, and is confusing the real issue, namely how do we catch our real perpetrator?’

Chris stayed silent, conceding that Gorman did have a point. He was right; in isolation the so called evidence – the break-ins at the lab and at Reilly’s apartment and the blond hair – didn’t actually point to any wrongdoing on Jessica Steel’s part, and could indeed be viewed as just some family incident separate to the task in hand. Except for Daniel Forrest’s assertion that she was the one responsible.

Forrest spoke again. ‘I take Mr Gorman’s point, but we do, in fact, have some cryptic clues—’

O’Brien rolled his eyes. ‘Cryptic clues? If you ask me, this whole fucking case has been one long cryptic clue!’ He sat back and looked around the table. ‘Do we have any real evidence – I mean actual
,
solid police evidence, to prove that this girl is involved in this?’ His look was challenging. ‘Anything? Anyone? And where the hell is Steel, anyway?’
Good question,
Chris thought, staring at the door. ‘She should be here for this, considering the accusations that are flying around, and not least because this is partly her doing.’

Daniel sat forward. ‘Are you doubting Reilly’s loyalties?’ he challenged.

‘Agent Forrest,’ O’Brien said, patiently and Chris knew the chief was frustrated as hell but trying his utmost to tread lightly, given Daniel’s high level contacts. ‘I know you’re a big supporter of Ms Steel – you trained her, yes?’

‘Correct.’

‘But surely even you would admit that what’s been outlined here is pretty thin evidence on which to launch a nationwide manhunt? At best, Mike Steel is drunk in some bar somewhere. At worst he’s with his own daughter.’

‘Who has killed nine
people,’ Daniel reminded him.

‘Exactly,’ Gorman nodded. ‘In fact, it’s all pretty incestuous, isn’t it? I mean we supposedly have a
murderer who is the sister of a senior member of our own GFU,’ he spat, all the bitterness over Reilly’s appointment coming through. ‘And now she is alleging – on flimsy evidence – that the sister has kidnapped her father and intends to kill him.’

Daniel climbed slowly to his feet and Chris gave him a look.

‘Are you leaving us so soon, Agent Forrest?’ O’Brien asked. ‘We’ll miss you, I’m sure.’

Daniel leaned forward, his hands on the table. ‘Reilly Steel is one of the finest investigators I’ve ever worked with. You should be proud to have her on your team – she’s an incredible asset to this department and, don’t forget, the only reason you’ve made this much progress.’

‘Well, if your assertions are correct, she’s the only reason we’re even in this mess!’ Gorman thundered. ‘If she’d stayed back where she belongs, all these innocent people would still be alive today.’

Chris looked at him. ‘You’re blaming Reilly for that? So you
do
think her sister could be involved …’

Gorman shrugged, realizing that he was contradicting himself.

O’Brien nodded. ‘I agree. If nothing else, it’s true that Ms Steel’s presence here that has drawn her nutcase sister to Dublin. As if we hadn’t enough of our own to deal with—’

‘And what about my father?’ a female voice said. Chris turned with relief to see that Reilly had crept silently into the meeting. Her expression was strained. ‘Are we to get any help in finding him before she does something else?’

‘What? You need half the department’s help to find your father?’ Gorman scoffed. ‘From what I hear, you might want to start with some of the bars off Capel Street.’

‘Jack is right.’ O’Brien conceded. ‘I’m sorry, Steel, but we just can’t spare the manpower for what looks to be nothing more than a family issue.’ He looked at Kennedy and Delaney. ‘From what I can see, we’re getting nowhere on this taboo killer thing, and until something concrete turns up, there’s also the small issue of the other hundred or so open cases in this department—’

‘Something has turned up,’ Reilly blurted. Chris stared, wondering what was coming. ‘I know I’m late and I’m sorry, but I needed to check something with the lab before I could say for sure.’

‘Say what for sure? Get on with it,’ O’Brien urged, impatiently.

Reilly met Chris’s eye. ‘We do have evidence linking my sister to the killings, sir. That bed sheet that was used to kill Jim Redmond? It’s mine.’

The meeting finished shortly afterward and, as anticipated, Reilly was removed from the case and placed on temporary leave.

She was in her office collecting some personal belongings to take home with her when Daniel walked in, a serious expression on his face. He closed the door behind him.

‘Well, I suppose that went as well as could be expected,’ he said, drolly.

‘At least they’re taking us seriously and Jess is now a prime suspect.’

Unfortunately, this didn’t mean they were any further along in the search for her father, but if nothing else it was a step in the right direction. Chris and Kennedy had gone to re-interview Mike’s neighbor and canvass anyone else in the immediate area that might have seen anything. In the meantime, Jack Gorman and the GFU team had been charged with going through the evidence, hoping to find some indication of where Jess was and what she might be planning next.

It was frustrating no longer being in the thick of it but Reilly was counting down the hours until her father’s flat was released from the investigation and she could get down there herself and take a proper look around.

Daniel dropped a sheaf of papers on her desk. ‘A copy of my official profile,’ he said, meeting her gaze. ‘There’s also a report from the CCWF which makes for interesting reading – I’ve highlighted the parts I think may be useful, namely the list of psychology books Jess hired from the library, as well as the psych reports.’ He indicated some sections with yellow post-its of his handwritten notes. ‘Although most of this may not be that helpful now. After all, who knows Jess’s mind better than you?’

‘I only wish that were true.’

A gentle smile crossed Daniel’s face. ‘Actually, you don’t need me anymore either,’ he added. She went to say something but he waved her protests away. ‘You never really needed me in the first place, Reilly,’ he replied. ‘I only came here to make some observations and to—’

‘Push me in the right direction?’ She smiled and he grinned in return.

‘You would have figured this out for yourself – the problem was you were too close to see it. Same as before.’

She bit her lip, knowing her was referring to the day of her mother’s death. ‘I know now I couldn’t have done anything to stop her but maybe this time I can.’

‘She was never your responsibility, Reilly; I’ve tried to tell you that time and time again. And despite what you might think, you and Jess are opposite sides of the same coin.’

Reilly shook her head. That was easy for him to say.

‘But now she’s waiting for you, and using your dad to draw you out,’ he continued. ‘So while you might be off the case, that doesn’t mean you can’t still figure this out.’

‘But I feel so damned helpless, Daniel.’ She looked around the room ‘Where do I even start?’

‘I know you can do it, but you need to have your wits about you.’

She made a face. ‘I’d feel a hell of lot happier if I could carry a gun.’

Daniel laughed softly. ‘Yes, that does take some getting used to,’ he admitted, patting his ribs. ‘I feel almost naked without it.’

There was a brief silence and Reilly looked at him, understanding all of a sudden. ‘You’re going back to the States, aren’t you?’

Daniel nodded.

‘Why?’ She couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice. He couldn’t leave now, not at such a crucial point.

‘I don’t really have much of a choice, there’s been something of a breakthrough on a case I’ve been working on back home and they need me back. Anyway, this was only ever going to be a few days, just so I could make sure you were OK. And now I know you are.’

‘You think so?’ Reilly gave a hard laugh.

‘I know so.’ He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

While Daniel’s leaving saddened her, she realized that he was right. His presence had been reassuring and some of his insights illuminating, but ultimately it was her, Chris and the team who had carried the case forward.

‘They’ve got a car coming to collect me from the hotel later. I’d like to say goodbye to your team this afternoon before I go – you’ve got a really good group together there, Reilly. They’re a testament to your skills.’

‘Just make sure Lucy keeps her hands off you,’ she joked, weakly.

He gave an expression of mock perplexity. ‘Now which one’s Lucy?’

‘Like you didn’t notice the cute blond with the puppy dog eyes?’ she grinned.

The two embraced, a long, warm hug of mutual respect and friendship.

‘Be careful,’ Daniel said, finally. ‘She has all your smarts but none of your morals. And we both know there are no limits to what she’s prepared to do …’

The following day, Reilly and Chris stood in the doorway of Mike’s flat. The residence had since been swept for evidence and released from the investigation, and she was at liberty to take a look around.

On the case or not, she was on a personal mission to find her father and, as locating Mike meant potentially locating their now prime suspect, Chris was willing to go along with it.

‘Well, for a start it’s not usually like this,’ she said, sniffing the air.

‘I know – that neighbor of his really gave it a good scrub.’

‘Silly cow,’ Reilly said through gritted teeth. Despite her best intentions, that woman Kelly may well have obliterated the trail to her father. Jess liked leaving clues and Reilly hoped against hope that there was something here that she, unlike the forensic team who had no personal stake in this, could identify as significant.

Earlier, Reilly had herself spoken to Mrs Kelly in the hope of finding out more about her dad’s supposed trip away.

‘Did he seem OK to you? Physically, I mean,’ she asked, hurriedly, unable to hide the desperation in her tone. She couldn’t help but notice that Mrs Kelly smelt badly of stale tobacco.

‘No different than normal.’ Kelly replied, eyeing her with interest. ‘Why?

‘Would he have had a drink or two, I wonder?’ Chris asked, casually and Reilly knew he was trying to figure out if Jess had given him a shot of pentobarbital, or if he’d just been his usual tanked self.

‘I wouldn’t think so,’ Kelly replied, surprised by the notion. ‘Although, now that you say it, he did seem a bit … under the weather.’

‘In what way?’

‘Well, he’s normally not very talkative, you know? Difficult to get a word out of him the best of times, but this time he started going on about how his daughter was visiting from America and hoping to find her roots, that kind of thing.’ Then she looked at Reilly. ‘Why are the police asking me all these questions about your father anyway? Is there something wrong?’

‘Did he mention anything specific about where they were going?’ Reilly went on, purposely ignoring the question.

‘No, nothing really. To be honest, I wouldn’t have known anything about it all only I bumped into him on the way out.’ Her lips narrowed slightly. ‘Your father, he’s a lovely man but well, he isn’t really the chatty type, you know?’

Reilly nodded.

‘So, I mentioned something about keeping an eye on the place for him while he was gone and he said that would be great, then off they went in the car.’

‘You’re sure you can’t describe that car for us, Mrs Kelly?’ Chris asked.

She bit her lip. ‘Like I told you before, I really couldn’t say for sure. It was black I think, and quite big, one of those people carrier things, but I didn’t really pay much attention.’

People rarely did, Reilly thought, feeling more frustrated by the second. Kelly’s account had given them nothing else to go on, although she supposed she should feel grateful that the woman had given them the heads-up about Jess in the first place.

She and Chris stepped into Mike’s living room. ‘So, what are we looking for?’ he asked.

‘I wish I knew, but based on what we’ve found previously I’m thinking anything that looks out of place. Papers, photographs,
scraps of paper, anything that might give us some idea of where she’s taken him.’ She recalled what Daniel had said about Jess laying down crumbs. ‘She enjoys leaving clues, however vague or insignificant they might appear.’

Reilly tried to picture her sister there, what she had said, what she had done.

What had Mike thought when she’d appeared? Her dad, like herself, had no clue Jess had been let out on parole, and she was probably the last person he expected to see. Was he happy – or scared? What did Jess say, if anything? Had she drugged him to get him away or was he compliant? What had she said to convince him to leave and where had they gone?

Leaving Chris to comb the living room, she went through to her father’s bedroom.

The room was pretty bare – spartan almost, and contained only a narrow bed with a cheap headboard, alongside a small beside table, and a chipboard wardrobe. There was no character in the room, no decoration, nothing that showed any touches of personal care apart from a cheap, generic
Home Sweet Home
sign above the bed. Reilly stared at it for a moment, thinking it was almost ironic.

Home Sweet Home?
Hardly. So much for Mike’s big dream of returning to the land of his birth …

All at once, Reilly felt guilty for not seeing enough of her father, for not taking better care of him. Now, if Jess had her way, she might never get the opportunity to do so again. What did she want? Had she only taken him to get at Reilly, use him as some kind of pawn in this sick mind game she was playing?

She took a deep breath and sat down on the side of the bed, hoping that wherever Mike was, he was holding up OK. Then, almost without realizing it, she lay down and rested her head on the pillow. She could still smell her dad’s distinctive scent on it and it instantly took her back to childhood – a place that made her feel warm, safe and secure.

She could still remember how her father used to hold her, and put his strong arms around her. Whenever Cassie left during one of her ‘episodes’, Reilly suffered nightmares, and would wake in the night in fear, an empty darkness haunting her dreams, a vast black pit of despair waiting to swallow her up. But Mike was always there, a shoulder for her to bury her face in until the darkness receded.

‘Are you OK?’ Chris asked from the doorway.

She sat up, quickly wiping away the tears. ‘It’s just …’ She indicated the sparsely decorated room. ‘This whole place is just so impersonal, so … soulless. He had so much invested in coming back to Ireland, you know. When we were kids, he always talked about it so wistfully, the vibrant green of the fields, the sea – gunmetal
gray he used to call it.’

Chris raised an eyebrow. ‘Then how did he end up here in crappy inner city Dublin?’

‘Honestly, I’m not sure – all he could afford, I guess. And of course, Ireland’s changed so much in the meantime that the reality failed to live up to the fantasy.’

He nodded.
‘Happens a lot. Sounds like your father was quite the romantic back in the day.’

‘He was, before … everything,’ she said sadly. ‘But little by little life and the bottle sucked it all out of him.’

‘His love of the ocean came out in you, though, ‘ Chris said, gently.

‘Maybe.’
She gave a weak smile and began straightening the bedclothes. ‘Anyway, there’s nothing helpful here.’

‘Well, I found something in the living room you might want to see. It was sitting on the coffee table and I don’t remember seeing it the last time I was here.’

Her head snapped up. ‘What have you got?’

She followed him through to the living room, where he sat on the sofa and picked up a slim leather volume. ‘Looks like the family photo album,’ he said.

Reilly sat beside him and he slid the album over so they could both look at it.

He had it open about halfway through and pointed at an old photo – two girls sitting side by side on the swings in some long-forgotten park.
Jess, about seven years old, smiling sweetly, her blond hair forming an almost angelic frame around her face.

And beside her, Reilly, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. It was the only style her dad could manage for them until she’d learned to take care of herself. She had an altogether
more serious expression on her face and was staring intently at the camera. Not sad, but not happy either.

Reilly reached out, gently touched the photograph with her thumb. ‘I remember that dress,’ she sighed.

Chris looked at the photograph, then back up her. ‘You haven’t changed much,’ he commented. ‘Still that same serious expression.’

‘I had to grow up fast.’

‘What age would you have been there? About twelve?’

She nodded. ‘I was eight years old when Mom left for the last time – that was really the end of my childhood. With her gone I had to take on so much and I remember that feeling, the realization that there really was nobody else to do those things – look after Jess, cook for my dad, clean the house.’ Even now, the memory of her lost childhood haunted her. Reilly gazed at the cheap curtains, the outside lamppost visible through them. ‘I had to be Jess’s mom – and she was still missing the old one.’

‘So she resented you?’

‘She wanted a sister to play with and a mom to do all the things moms do. What she got was a sister bossing her around and struggling to cope. So yeah, I guess she resented me. I could never replace mom, but she’d kind of lost her sister too.’

Her thoughts were far away, replaying the dark days of her childhood that had somehow led to the present day nightmare.

‘Here, these are the ones I thought you might want to see,’ Chris said, turning back to the first few pages.

Reilly dragged her thoughts back to what he was showing her. These were much older photographs, black and white – old people she didn’t recognize, standing very formally for photographs, dressed in their Sunday best.

‘Mike’s folks,’ she said. ‘I never met them, but those are his parents and the ones the back must be his grandparents.’

‘They’re a happy looking bunch, aren’t they?’

It was true. Despite the Sunday best clothes and formal pose, there was a certain gaiety in the faces, a love of life that shone through. It was an expression Reilly remembered from her father when she was young, before Cassie left.

Chris turned the page again and Reilly couldn’t help but smile. ‘That’s Dad, as a baby.’ A round-faced infant gazed from the pages, piercing blue eyes seeming to see right through the camera. ‘He always had those amazing eyes …’

‘Is that him too?’ Chris
asked, a sudden excitement in his voice. He was pointing at another black and white photograph of a young boy, about seven years old standing on a quayside holding up a large fish, a triumphant expression on his face.

‘Yep, that’s my dad,’ she confirmed. ‘He used to love fishing, said he and his father used to go almost every chance they had.’

‘You said the family were originally from a fishing village?’

‘Yes, why?’

‘I know where that is,’ Chris said. ‘My father used to take me fishing there in the summer holidays.’ He peered intently at the picture. ‘No doubt about it – that’s Greystones. I still go down there from time to time – it’s only a twenty-minute drive south. It’s hardly a village anymore, more of a big commuter town now, but there’s an area of older houses down by the harbor, and I’d swear that’s where most of these pictures were taken.’

‘
Greystones,’ Reilly repeated, letting the name roll off her tongue. ‘It does sound familiar.’

Chris sat forward. ‘This might be a bit of a long shot,’ he began tentatively, ‘but didn’t Mike mention something to the
neighbor about his daughter wanting to go—’

‘Back to her roots.’
Reilly closed the photograph album with a loud thud. What did that mean? Was it a kind of tip-off from Mike, who knew Jess’s appearance meant trouble, and hoped that Reilly would notice his absence and start asking questions? If so, the fact that he had the presence of mind to do such a thing could only mean that Jess had coerced him, couldn’t it?

Then suddenly she thought of something else. ‘The sign …’
She jumped up from the sofa and headed back into Mike’s bedroom.

‘What is it?’ Chris asked, following her.

She pointed to the
Home Sweet Home
sign on the wall. ‘That’s new, I don’t remember seeing it before today.’ Earlier she’d thought it ironic, but now she realized it might very well be significant. A crumb of sorts.

She looked at Chris. ‘Let’s go for a drive. I think now might be a good time for a spot of fishing.’