The Doll's House (32 page)

Misjudging his footing, O’Connor roared, ‘Shite!’ to the empty street. Straightening, he reminded himself that tomorrow was another day. He glanced at his watch. It was already Friday morning.

Kate was so engrossed in work that she’d lost all track of time. When O’Connor phoned, she hadn’t realised it was already past midnight or she would never have agreed to him calling to the apartment. She thought she’d detected a slight slur in his voice.

After checking on Charlie to make sure he was fast asleep, she tidied herself up, brushing her hair, cleaning her teeth, applying some blusher so she wouldn’t look half dead, making herself presentable to the world. Taking one last look in the bathroom mirror, she added some lipstick.

Much to Kate’s annoyance, O’Connor kept his finger pressed on the intercom buzzer although she’d told him Charlie was asleep. It was only when she opened the apartment door, and got the whiff of whiskey, that she realised why there had been a slur in his voice. When he stepped into the hall, she saw that his eyes were glazed. He wasn’t out and out drunk, but he had a good few on him.

‘I have the kettle boiled, O’Connor. Strong coffee is looking like a good option right now.’ If he’d noticed the sarcasm in her tone he kept it to himself, happy to follow her down the hall into the kitchen. As they passed Charlie’s bedroom door, she warned him, ‘Keep your voice down. Charlie’s asleep.’

O’Connor put his index figure up to his lips like a guilty but obedient child. She must be a complete lunatic allowing him to call at this ungodly hour. He’d better sober up fast, or this meeting would be a waste of time for both of them.

Kate made a large pot of coffee, placing it on the kitchen table with two mugs. ‘I tried to get you earlier.’

‘Sorry, Kate. It was a mental day.’

Kate didn’t know if the coffee would do the trick, but as O’Connor was taking up a chair in her kitchen, she decided to continue. ‘I’ve been going over my case notes and a number of things have cropped up, although nothing’s conclusive.’

‘Very little ever is …’ He took a large gulp of coffee.

‘We’ve already talked about the stabbing being frenzied,’ Kate wondered if O’Connor was drifting, ‘and the drowning as a form of cleansing.’

‘A religious nut?’

‘Not necessarily.’

‘So what is he getting out of it?’

Kate topped up O’Connor’s mug. ‘He could be trying to purge himself of something rooted in his psyche, an earlier emotional trauma, and takes risks for it.’

‘Meaning?’

‘As I said before, that the fear of being caught is not uppermost in his mind. We know we’re not dealing with a young guy, yet despite his maturity, his emotional drive is the overriding force.’

‘The CCTV footage showed Jenkins talking to a perceived stranger.’

Kate was relieved that O’Connor’s brain was beginning to function. ‘But there’s something else.’ She hesitated. ‘There are important issues around location. I don’t think our killer is travelling far, or if he is, he has some previous connection in the area, either through work or home life. Listen, O’Connor, I’ll be honest with you. I’ve been under a bit of pressure with personal stuff, which might explain why I missed this, but we all take mental shortcuts, and something is bringing the killer there. The taking of the ring ties him strongly to Jenkins’s life.’

‘You’re not the only one who’s been distracted. Any more thoughts on why the drowning is floating his boat?’ O’Connor let out a snigger.

‘You need more coffee, O’Connor, if you’re starting to think you’re funny.’

‘I need a cigarette.’

‘Not here. This is a no-smoking zone.’

‘Right. Keep pouring,’ he gestures towards the coffee pot.

‘If it’s a cleansing ritual, it tells us the wounds go deep. People seldom commit murder unless the stakes are high.’ Kate poured the dregs from the coffee pot. ‘Whoever it is, O’Connor, as I said in my last report, they’ll have shown clues to others, probably the person closest to them. You haven’t mentioned how you got on looking into Dominic Hamilton and Clodagh McKay.’

‘I’ll be chatting with them tomorrow, along with Martin McKay, her husband.’

Kate swallowed the last of her coffee. It tasted bitter. ‘What’s the delay?’

‘Fucking cul-de-sacs going nowhere. Do you think this is all connected to Adrian Hamilton’s death?’

‘If it’s some form of emotional revenge, the killer has kept his hatred at bay for a prolonged period of time. It’s a difficult one. It means he waited until after Lavinia Hamilton died to take action. That’s a long wait. Emotions don’t work in isolation from our behaviour. Much and all as we try to control them, O’Connor, our emotional selves, especially where deep wounds are concerned, are hard to keep at bay.’

‘So?’

‘It’s not my role to play detective, but if Lavinia Hamilton’s death was the stressor, it could be because she or someone else revealed something before she died. It might even be something she needed to purge herself of.’

‘The physical description fits Dominic Hamilton, but it also fits a few hundred thousand others.’

‘I’m not pointing the finger at anyone. Any number of other connections are possible. It would be dangerous to latch onto one suspect. I don’t need to tell you, others who knew the Hamiltons or, for that matter, either of the victims could still come forward as
potential suspects. We’re aware of certain factors, but we also need to acknowledge that there’s a hell of a lot we’re unaware of.’

‘Maybe.’

‘As I said in my report, whoever’s doing this, O’Connor, they’ll be showing cracks. That’s why we need to look at Dominic Hamilton, Martin McKay and any other important links very closely.’

‘First thing tomorrow, Kate, I’ll be looking at them all.’

Kate stood up, hoping O’Connor would take it as his cue to leave, but O’Connor didn’t look in any particular hurry to go anywhere.

‘I hear you’ve been talking with Stuart Hennessy about the Susie Graham rape,’ he said, still sitting down.

‘Who told you that?’

‘Never mind.’ He slumped back in the chair, spreading his bulky frame as if he had no intention of moving.

‘I was interested in the case, that’s all. The girl had looked vulnerable, and I thought it might be connected with the Rachel Mooney rape.’

‘That bastard Hennessy, he fucking hates me.’

‘He struck me as a fair-minded individual,’ she said, but she knew O’Connor was building up to something. The sooner she got it out of him, the sooner she could get him out of her kitchen.

‘Can I be honest with you, Kate?’

‘I would hate for you to be any other way.’ She attempted a laugh. ‘I’m all ears.’

‘You’d better put that kettle on again so.’

‘And you’d better have good reason for keeping me up at this hour of the morning, and turning me into your housemaid.’ Kate hoped her lighter tone would encourage him to get off his chest whatever was eating away at him.

‘They say it’s good to talk.’

‘This thing you want to talk about, has it been bothering you for a while?’

‘Months.’

‘Is it to do with work?’

‘Yeah … well, kind of.’ O’Connor fidgeted in the chair. ‘I’ve done something stupid. I’ve made a mistake.’

‘None of us is perfect. Making mistakes is part of what makes us human.’

‘Someone paid the price for my stupidity, Kate, a big price.’

‘Have you spoken to anyone about this before?’ Kate could tell by his manner that they were dealing with something big. And a part of her wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear it.

‘It’s been keeping me awake at night. The only way I seem to be able to get any sleep is if I drink myself out of my head and then some.’

‘Drink doesn’t change anything, O’Connor. Whatever troubles you have, they’ll still be there in the morning.’

‘I know that only too well.’

‘For what it’s worth,’ Kate sat down opposite him again, ‘anything you tell me will be in the strictest confidence.’

‘Am I one of your clients now?’ And for the first time since he’d arrived, he smiled.

‘No, not quite, but I am a friend.’

‘Are you, Kate?’ He was staring at her now. ‘It’s just that sometimes, with work and all, it’s hard to tell where professionalism ends and friendship begins.’

His words made her uneasy. She knew it wouldn’t take a lot for them to cross the line. She wasn’t ready for that, not yet. ‘Look, O’Connor, why don’t you tell me what’s been bothering you? No matter how long the two of us sit here, it’s not going to feel like the right time.’

‘I covered up for a guy.’

The awkward moment had passed. Kate thought about what he had just said. ‘What guy?’

‘A young fella. He was brought into the station a few months back.’

‘Arrested?’

‘No, brought in for questioning. He had no priors.’

‘How did you cover up for him exactly?’

‘Do you remember Donoghue?’

‘The bookman on the Devine and Spain case?’

‘That’s the one.’

‘What about him?’

‘It was his son. He managed to get himself into a bit of trouble.’

‘What kind of trouble?’

‘He fell for some young one.’

‘O’Connor, I’m not quite following you. What has the love life of Donoghue’s son got to do with you?’

‘It should have nothing to do with me, but Donoghue got me involved. The girl wanted to press charges.’ O’Connor looked down at his feet. ‘Donoghue said there had been a misunderstanding. Both kids got drunk at a house party, the inevitable happened, the girl, he said, must have regretted it afterwards … and his son was a good kid, never in trouble with the law.’ O’Connor looked up at Kate. ‘He said he knew it would shake him up – if the charges went anywhere. An innocent teenager marked for life.’

‘The girl said he raped her. Is that what you’re telling me, O’Connor?’

‘Donoghue said it was consensual. It just got a bit out of hand. Donoghue thinks both of them were given, or had taken, something at the party. The boy knocked the girl about a bit.’

‘It doesn’t sound consensual to me, O’Connor.’

‘I know it fucking doesn’t. The point is, Kate, when Donoghue approached me, he said I was the only one he could trust with it. He needed it sorted. All I had to do was apply a bit of pressure on the girl, point out the complications involved, how hard it would be for anything to be proven – you know, her word against his kind of thing.’

Kate purposely kept her voice calm, knowing that if she came over top heavy with O’Connor now, he would close up shop completely. ‘Why did you cover it up, O’Connor? Why didn’t you tell Donoghue that there wasn’t anything you could do?’

‘I met the boy.’

‘And?’

‘And he was a mess, nervous as hell. He looked like a good kid, exactly as Donoghue had described him, quiet, nerdy and bright. He had his whole life ahead of him, and these things can fuck up a guy’s head.’

‘Not to mention a girl’s.’ Kate’s voice was low. ‘So what happened next? Something tells me this isn’t the end of the story.’

‘No, Kate. It’s not the bloody end.’ O’Connor stood up. ‘I made a fucking wrong call.’

‘How do you mean?’

‘Two months later the kid was pulled in again.’

‘Another accusation of rape?’ Kate couldn’t keep the shock out of her voice.

‘Yeah.’ O’Connor looked straight at her, his voice strained. ‘This time the girl was badly beaten up. You should have seen her, Kate. Only an animal could have done it to her.’

‘Did you approach Donoghue?’

‘What would have been the point? We both knew we’d got it wrong. It was his son charged, not mine.’

‘When is the case up?’

‘Not for another month. Hennessy was assigned to the second case. He has his suspicions, I know. Someone told him I interviewed the boy earlier on.’

‘Did he ask you about it?’

‘Yeah.’

‘And what did you say?’

‘I shrugged it off as nothing. With no official charges pressed, there’s nothing on record.’

‘You’re going to come clean now?’

‘I haven’t made my mind up.’

‘You don’t have a choice, O’Connor.’ Kate could hear anger seeping into her voice.

‘Look, Kate, I totally fucked up, I know that. Why do you think I’ve been killing myself over the bloody thing?’ His anger was bursting
out of him, and she could see he’d been bottling it up for some time. ‘Kate, if I hadn’t leaned on the first girl, the second attack wouldn’t have happened.’

‘Glad you can see that, O’Connor.’ It was her turn to stand up. ‘You have to come clean. You have to go to Butler, tell him what happened.’ All she could think of was the two girls. No matter how fucked up O’Connor’s head was at that moment, it was nothing to what those girls were going through.

‘You think I’ve been a prick, don’t you, Kate?’

‘Yes, if you want me to be honest.’

‘Honesty is overrated.’ There was a reluctant sarcasm in his reply.

‘You don’t get it, O’Connor, do you?’

‘Get what?’

‘What either of those girls must have gone through.’

‘I guess that would be impossible for me, Kate, being a man. It’s played on my mind. Jesus Christ, has it played on my mind.’

‘So what stopped you going straight to Butler the moment you discovered your mistake?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Weak answer. I’m not buying it.’

‘I could lose everything.’

‘Your career, you mean.’

‘I suppose you could call it that. It’s what I do. It’s the reason I get out of bed in the morning, to catch the bad guys.’

‘And now you’re one of them.’ Her tone was judgemental.

‘Thanks for not sugar-coating your answer.’

She could tell he was hurting, but hurt came with that kind of territory. ‘O’Connor, I know you’re not a bad person. This was out of character for you. You thought you were helping a friend, but a girl has been raped, and your actions were partly responsible for it happening again. No matter how you try to dress this up, there’s no getting away from that.’

Kate was so wrapped up in their conversation that she didn’t hear
Charlie’s bedroom door opening or his footsteps as he entered the kitchen.

‘Mum?’ He looked as if he was about to cry, and he seemed tiny beside O’Connor. Kate needed to get O’Connor out and fast.