Darkhouse

let Anna Lucchesi see that picture that Joe gave you. The mugshot.’

‘How did you manage that?’

‘I’m sorry. It was an accident. It had slipped in among my papers. She seemed a bit shaken by the whole thing. I thought maybe she was angry that Joe hadn’t let her in on it, whatever it was.’ She paused. ‘But now that I think about it, she actually seemed quite nervous.’

‘How do you mean nervous?’

‘Well, I thought I saw the page shake when she took it. Then she put her hand to her mouth. She was sort of looking around, a bit panicky.’

Frank was familiar with that reaction. It usually ended with, ‘That’s him. That’s the man.’

Joe ran for the Jeep and pulled out of Shore’s Rock. He drove towards the village, his mind racing, the caffeine high kicking in. He had taken in the equivalent of eighteen spoons of coffee.

He thought about Hayley Gray. He remembered her parents waiting, powerless, because they’d called the police. Gordon Gray had sat on the sofa, reading the newspaper. Joe thought he was cold and detached. But then the man had bolted upright, shouting, ‘What do I do here? What am I supposed to do? Do I watch TV, do I work, what the hell do I do when this is going on? Someone has taken my child!’

This powerful businessman had collapsed against a police officer, sobbing, ‘This is torture, this is torture – why is this happening?’ Then he stopped suddenly. In the silence that followed, his quiet words sounded roared.

‘I did this.’ His eyes were wide and blinking, his mouth open. ‘Oh God, this is my fault. All of it.’

Joe stared ahead. He knew now exactly how Gordon Gray felt. This was his fault. This was payback for Donald Riggs. He might have been wrong about Katie, about the women in Texas, but he was right about one thing: a man called Duke Rawlins had him in his crosshairs.

He wondered what to do with the information from the file. The thought of making a call on it made the panic surge again. He clenched the steering wheel and floored the accelerator. He thought about calling Frank Deegan. He even reached out for his mobile. Then he was jolted back to the last seconds of Hayley Gray’s life…and realised that Duke Rawlins could be safe in the knowledge that he was never going to call the police.

‘Who do you love most, your husband or your son? If you had to choose,’ Duke said suddenly.

‘My son,’ said Anna calmly.

Duke laughed. ‘Just like that?’ he said.

‘Yes. I’m leaving my husband.’

‘You bullshittin’ me?’ said Duke.

‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s over.’ Her heart thumped. Duke studied her face.

‘You better not be bullshittin’ me.’

‘I’m not. Please don’t touch my son.’

Duke stared, then reached back and slapped her hard with the back of his hand. Her bottom lip split wide.

‘Nice fuckin’ try,’ he said, brushing her hair from her face to look into her eyes. She was crying.

‘Don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me,’ he said. ‘You’d never be able to choose between them. It’s written all over your skinny little French face.’

‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry.’

Duke shrugged. ‘Too late,’ he said. ‘Plan B, just for the holy hell of it.’

Barry Shanley was on his way to school punching a text message into his phone when he felt someone grab the back of his knapsack and wrench him to the ground. The phone spun out onto the road. Barry lay on his back on the path, struggling to find his feet. He managed to turn on his side, but Shaun pulled on his bag again, dragging him backwards. Barry’s hands scraped across the stone.

‘Fucking get off me,’ said Barry, trying to stand up.

‘Fuck you,’ said Shaun. ‘You sick fuck. Sending me emails like a fucking psycho.’

‘Got you there, Lucky, didn’t I?’

‘Are you nuts? My mom was—’ Shaun had to stop. He squeezed his eyes shut.

‘Oh, your mom!’ said Barry. ‘You pussy.’

Barry let his bag slide off his shoulders and dumped it on the ground. He started moving on the balls of his feet in front of Shaun, his arms raised. Shaun snorted.

‘You’re scaring me, Karate Kid.’

Barry reached out and tried to chop Shaun across the neck. Shaun grabbed Barry’s wrist and twisted it behind his back, pulling it up until he cried out. He pushed him forward onto the ground.

‘I’m not going to bother fighting you,’ said Shaun. He bent down and picked up Barry’s phone. He scrolled through the message on the screen. He read it out loud. ‘“Tape Home and Away for me. I’ll be back at 7. Kiss Kiss.” Now, who are you sending that to? Oh yeah, here we are: Mom. Fuck you, Shanley.’

Joe frowned. Up ahead, a woman was standing by the side of the road.

‘What the?’

She was swaying back and forth like a drunk, trying to flag him down with heavy arms. He frowned and checked the clock. He had three minutes to get to the car park. He looked around, hoping someone else would drive by and help this woman. Then he saw the blood, dripping from her arm. He looked for signs of a crash or another person, but she was alone and the closer he got the more hysterical she became. She suddenly started flailing wildly.

‘Shit,’ he muttered, pulling in beside her. She grabbed at the handle, missing it several times before the door finally opened and she could heave herself up onto the passenger seat. Something about her made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

He watched her as she sat back in the seat. ‘Thanks so much for stopping, sir, thank you,’ she said. Her face was flushed and slick with sweat. Her breathing was heavy. She pushed back her hair and tried to smooth it down, catching a wiry strand in one of three tiny gold hoop earrings.

‘What happened?’ said Joe.

‘Some maniac attacked me! I was going for a walk and he just came out of nowhere.’ She stared at him with wide eyes. ‘I think he was going to rape me,’ she added. Joe took in her bulk. The seats of the Jeep were wide, but she was filling hers and almost spilling over. Only a very large man would try to tackle her down. Maybe that’s why she’d got away.

‘I need to get to a hospital. He stabbed me. With a knife.’ She looked amazed. Then a strange flash of anger passed across her face as if she was about to finish with, ‘The asshole.’

‘Show me,’ said Joe, nodding at her arm. She hesitated. ‘I’m a police officer,’ he said.

She pulled back the sweater wrapped around her arm and he saw a deep slash stretching diagonally across her fleshy forearm. It was a clean slice, delivered – Joe imagined – with quick downward force as she was raising her arm to deflect it. He started the engine and turned to her.

‘You’re gonna be just fine,’ he said. ‘But I can’t take you to the hospital. I have a meeting—’

‘A meeting? You’re a policeman!’ she said. ‘You can’t just—’

‘I’m off duty,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. What I will do is leave you at the garda station and the sergeant in there, Frank Deegan or the guard, Richie Bates, will take you to the hospital. Tell them Joe Lucchesi left you off.’ He glanced down at the clock. He was already three minutes late as he turned onto the main street and pulled up outside Danaher’s.

‘It’s over there,’ he pointed. She didn’t get out of the car. He couldn’t ask her to, so he climbed out and ran around to her side, opening the door and guiding her gently by her left arm.

‘Everything’s gonna be OK,’ he said, squeezing her hand. ‘I’m sorry about what happened to you. I’m sorry I have to leave you here.’

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You’re very…kind.’ She looked like she was going to cry. He hopped back into the Jeep, did a swift U-turn and headed for the cliff. Four minutes late. Adrenaline surged through him. His hands started to