“Ten? I don’t know. Like I said, it had just happened. They said, Tara said. It was a laugh, see? This bloke wandering the streets.”
“That’s when you formed a plan then. To go after this man.”
“No way. No.”
“Twomey says you did,” said Wall.
“No he didn’t. That’s because nobody made any plan.”
“The four of you went down the street. You saw him there, he’s lost. It’s dark. There’s no one around.”
Wall paused then and watched Matthews shaking his head in slow, steady motions. Like a fiddle-player following a tune, Minogue thought.
“You know he’s not Dublin,” said Wall. “He’s not even Irish. So: easy mark.”
“You’re making everything up.”
“It’s not hard to figure this out. He probably has money. You don’t. You want to go to a hotel. You and your girlfriends.”
“That is so off the wall. Why am I even listening anymore.”
“Or were you at it in the stairwell? You and your mate. A foursome?”
Minogue watched Wall walk slowly up and down, taking each step as though balancing on a curb.
“You want to go all the way,” Wall persisted. “You’re frustrated. You’re angry. Who was it said it first? Was it you?”
Matthews rested his elbows on his knees and looked at the tiles on the floor. Suddenly he looked up, and found Minogue.
“Is he always like this?” he asked. “This fantasy stuff. He should be in the film business. Lord of — ”
“Just answer the questions,” Minogue snapped.
“Or did he stumble on you,” Wall said, “you and Tara having a wear? Or are you getting it on with a thirteen- year-old child, you and…”
“Would you shut up about that?”
Even Minogue started. Wall had stopped his walk and unfolded his arms. Minogue saw that Matthews’ head was trembling slightly with the effort of staying still as he glared up. His tone was subdued again when he spoke, however.
“You’re all the same. Guards! Yous haven’t a clue. You think you have, but you haven’t. Not a clue.”
His face wrinkled in disgust, and he looked away quickly.
“Tell us then,” said Minogue.
“You don’t care. You won’t believe me. I want my lawyer.”
“Your counsel.”
“Yeah I want him.”
“Tomorrow,” said Minogue. “You’ve had your legal rights respected.”
“Tomorrow? I’ve done nothing. Nothing.”
“You’ve sexually assaulted or exploited a-”
“Shut up, will you?! That is such a load…!”
Temper, temper, Minogue thought.
“Well you tell us then,” said Wall. “What don’t we know?”
“Life. Being young. The scene, you know? Bit of fun? Good times?”
“Tell us about the scene then,” said Minogue.
Matthews slid down further in the chair but then drew himself back up suddenly. He breathed out slowly.
“Girls, they go to you and say anything and yous take that as gospel.”
“What are we talking about?” Wall asked.
“About what you don’t know. Girls. They’re always innocent, it’s the fella who’s always guilty. You can’t imagine a girl doing anything serious. You know?”
“‘Serious’ like a crime?”
“Well, yeah, a crime.”
“What did they do then? What did Tara do?”
“I meant girls in general. You’re not listening to me.”
“You and Twomey got them to lure this man down there, didn’t you?”
“That’s so stupid I won’t even think of answering.”
“It was their idea?” Wall said. “Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” “I am not. You’re putting words in my mouth. You’re trying to set me up. Now I see it. Yous haven’t a clue who did that fella in, so you just want anyone. Those two lied to you I bet and you gobbled it up like idiots.”
“The girl lied? Tara?”
“I don’t know, do I? I don’t know what they told you, but whatever it is, it’s wrong.”
He grimaced then, and felt for the corner of his mouth where the skin had cracked.
“So it’s all lies. I’m not going to say another word. Yous are taking away my rights.”
“What reason would Tara or her friend have to lie?” Wall asked. “Aren’t you and Tara a couple and all that?”
Matthews said something under his breath.
Minogue got up. He picked up his clipboard and headed for the door, closing it quietly behind him. The uniform, an older veteran with a grey moustache and a smell of cigar smoke, was reading the evening paper.
“Thanks,” said Minogue, “we need a bit of time here.”
The Guard folded his paper and grasped the door handle.
“Troublesome?” he asked.
“No,” said Minogue, “no more than usual.”
Wall came out of the interview room stroking his chin thoughtfully.
“Let’s get Mossie here too. We need to shuffle the deck a bit.”
Wall nodded. To Minogue he seemed as fresh and alert as when they first met this afternoon.
“I think we need to talk to those girls again tonight. Shake them up. Minors or not. We need to figure them out better.”
Wall said nothing. Neither man moved. Then Wall tugged at his nose.
“Do you wonder maybe?” he asked Minogue.
“Two girls?” said Minogue.
“Yep. I know Matthews is pushing the line, without actually saying it.”
“Each of them trying to sell the other one up the river,” Minogue said.
“But forensic gives us ‘shoes.’ Leather-soled, hard edges.”
“That’s what they call stomped, isn’t it?” said Wall.
“Big shoes, big heels? Small shoes, small heels?”
Wall lowered his head and looked up under his eyebrows at Minogue.
“Fair enough,” said Minogue, “I’m getting delirious. Let’s check with Mossie. We can all go delirious together.”
Chapter 29
Faning’s eyes were itching from staring at the screen. Reflexively, his fingers tapped the Apple — S combination. Then he did a Save As to his memory stick before closing the file. He returned to Google Maps, and zoomed in on the lane where he had gone with Cully and West Ham. No, the image hadn’t changed. What did he expect, that a satellite had passed, taken a photo and it was on the server already? Complete with the five of them in the lane behind the pub? Magical thinking indeed. But that guy with the broken arm must have gone to some hospital or clinic: he’d be traceable.
He began to compose an email to Breen. Subject: Real Crime Story. While the cursor pulsed on, awaiting his words, he imagined Breen reading this cryptic email that he was about to start. But did Breen junk his email? Did he
