Red absconded and was discovered weeping over Sean’s grave, in which four other boys had also been buried. ‘They even got the date wrong,’ he said. ‘Sean died on the fourteenth. They put the fifteenth.’
He had seen Sean alive after midnight and so was aware of the error. Had they monitored the boy’s condition, they too would have known.
Thereafter, Red, to the religious, remained bright and cocky, a demeanour he maintained, refusing to show the effects of his twin’s death. In private, such privacy as could be obtained within those confines, he became increasingly insular and motivated. He had an infinite number of ideas – get-rich schemes by the mountainload. Where he conjured them from, and to what end, only he knew; he would have made a formidable scholar, an addition to any society. He had also deduced the ways in which the clergy kept their records. One theory was that, in the case of children who had known no other upbringing than the system, by using the first two letters of an inmate’s name – he referred to himself as an inmate – one could ascertain the beginning of one’s birth name, and by applying the same logic to the last letters one’s place of birth. In short, the letters D-O-C-K now suggested to me that Red’s real name began with ‘DO’, for Donavan, ending in ‘CK’, for Clonkeelin, Kildare. Red was a Donavan. Used as a method of decoding, the name Kells did not enter its parameters. Lucille was not a Donavan, Red was.
In light of the unexplained coincidence of having found him in the cottage on the night of Anne’s death, I had decided to bring him back to my rooms for questioning. And now, with Lucille in the next room, I began.
RED DOCK
‘Corn, me old mate, how’s it going? What the fuck’s that rustling noise?’
‘A little interrogation technique of my own design. The rat in the corner is enjoying a piece of raw meat. His colleagues are inside the crate gnawing their way through.’
‘How long will it take them?’
‘Usually several days.’
‘They’ll be famished by then.’
‘They are hoping you fail to answer my questions truthfully.’
‘How many are there?’
‘Three dozen.’
‘Questions?’
‘Rats.’
‘What if you’re called out?’
‘I have furnished a replacement timber, hammer and nails to allow you to shore off the crate temporarily thus prolonging their escape. You could of course always hit them with the hammer.’
‘What if you’re held up?’
‘I would inform those holding me up where to find you. One week later.’
‘They’ll be finding us both, Corn. By tomorrow, I’d say.’ I had his attention. ‘C’mere a minute, Corn.’ I didn’t want Lucille hearing what I had to say. ‘Why don’t we go down to your art gallery and have a little talk?’
‘I think not.’
‘Corn, I’m not likely to be making a run for it with those dogs on the end of my bollocks. Besides, you know what I’ve been up to. Even if I got out of here, I couldn’t turn you in, any more than you could me. So what’s there to be lost? More importantly, what’s there to be gained? By you.’
Greed, y’see. He was always a greedy bastard, even when we were emailing each other he was always after as good a deal as he could get.
‘You have another of your get-rich plans in mind?’
‘When they were dishing out plans, they must’ve mistaken me for an architect – and given me a whole drawerful.’
He thought about it long enough to see that he’d nothing to lose, then opened the door.
‘Good man. C’mon.’ And down we went.
‘I’ve admired your paintings. That Duet has something going for it.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I’m glad you don’t like painting men. I wouldn’t fancy being in one of them. I know all about the flowers. I read about it in your journal.’ Y’shoulda seen the one called January. The girl in it had a face like a shovel – a crooked chin and a twisted nose. Meet her on a dark night and you’d shit yourself.
‘What do you call them? The “Calendar Collection”?’
‘Actually, no, though that is a possibility.’
‘It lacks something.’
‘Oh?’
‘Enigma.’
‘Explain.’
Packing crates were in the centre of the room.
‘You’re sending them away?’
‘To international galleries. Artists do like to display their work.’
‘Most of them don’t exhibit anonymously. You should give them more to ponder over. As it is, they’ll wonder why you didn’t complete the collection by including a December.’
‘An omission to be rectified this evening.’
‘Bad move. Let Duet take its place. Let them wonder why you did that. Complete it and Duet will look out of place. It won’t fit in. Send it as it is, and they’ll have more to talk about.’
It seemed to amuse him. ‘You know, Red, you might just have hit on something there.’
‘So you can forget about December.’
‘What exactly are you leading up to, Red?’
‘Business. Lucille thinks Anne Donavan’s her old dear.’
‘She is not.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I questioned her most persuasively. You did insist that I visit her. She endured my interrogation unnecessarily, when a simple confirmation of that which Lucille’s birth certificate had already proven to me would have granted her an easier passing. Lucille may think she is her mother. I myself am convinced that she is not.’
‘Yeah, well, it’s what Lucille thinks that counts.’
‘A plot which you constructed?’
‘Presentation, Corn. If there’s one thing I learnt from those who put us in that well, it was that. I’ve seen to it the law’ll see Lucille as being behind this. When she’s convicted, I claim what’s mine and Sean rests easy. That’s all I want. I’ve nothing personal against Lucille. Only …’
‘Yes?’
‘They’ll be grabbing you as well.’
‘I see.’
‘Unless we do a deal.’
It was my only way out of there. ‘The computer I used to email you shows you at the Top Towers Hotel. I get out of here, the law don’t find it with your name on it. You keep me here, they do. That’s the deal.’ I was tempting him. He knew as well as I did that if
