by Gytha Lodge
“So what happened that night?” he asked, moving the conversation on.
Coralie pursed her lips and chewed a fragment off her nail. “Topaz wanted Brett to want her. So we did our usual thing. She kissed me in front of him, and then let him join in when he got excited.”
Jonah wondered why Daniel Benham hadn’t mentioned this. Perhaps he hadn’t felt it was his secret to tell. Or perhaps Coralie was nothing more than a fantasist. But he got the impression this was more about telling tales on her friends in reaction to some perceived slight.
“So Aurora knew?” he asked.
“She saw us going off together.” Coralie was nodding.
Jonah made another note. He wondered exactly how concerned Topaz might have been about her parents finding out. Concerned enough to kill her sister? That would have been a pretty extreme reaction.
“And Aurora wasn’t involved at any point,” he said. “She wasn’t a fourth member.”
The instinctive curl of Coralie’s lip was almost comical. “Are you serious? Topaz would have run a mile. And Aurora wouldn’t have gone near that whole scene. She looked like she wanted to throw up as it was. Bloody prude.”
Jonah had to work quite hard not to suppress a smile. It was refreshing to hear someone talking about an exotic sex life without shame. For some reason police interviews always made people want to underplay everything.
“Was Aurora still there when you returned?”
“We didn’t come back to the camp,” Coralie said, shaking her head. “We were all of us drunk and we passed out. We didn’t see her after that.”
“So you were asleep from then until morning?”
Coralie’s mouth tightened. After a momentary pause, she said, “No. No, I wasn’t. I got up.”
Jonah glanced down, as if checking the original statement. “That contradicts what you said originally,” he said neutrally.
“I know it does,” she said. “Everyone told me not to say anything. They thought…they thought the police would grab hold of it. Because he was already being grilled. And I suppose I felt sorry for him….”
He heard Hanson shift in her chair next to him, and was aware that she knew as well as he did whom Coralie was talking about. For the sake of the tape, however, he needed Coralie to say it.
“Can you tell me who you’re talking about?”
“Connor,” Coralie said, and there was a real intensity to the way she said his name. Jonah could feel her antipathy. “Connor Dooley. He told the police he went to sleep next to Jojo and didn’t get up again. But he did. He got up, and he was sitting by the fire on his own when I got up.”
“You saw him there?” Jonah asked her quietly.
“Yes. I needed to pee.” She fidgeted slightly and dropped her gaze, making him wonder whether that was really what she had been doing. Had she got up to take more drugs? To be sick?
“What time was this?”
“Oh…I’m not sure.” She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “It was later on. I’d been asleep for a while, and then woken up again.”
“Brett and Topaz were both still there when you woke up?”
“Yes,” she said firmly. “I crept away from them both and went toward the campfire.”
“You didn’t just find a nearby bush?” Jonah queried.
“I don’t…I was a bit disoriented, I suppose. I can’t really…The fire would have been bright, I guess, so I headed that way.”
“You think the fire was still visibly burning at that point?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“And as you approached, can you explain what you saw?”
“I saw Connor Dooley,” she said, more certainly. “He was sitting by the fire, with a can of beer.”
“Did he see you?”
“No,” Coralie answered swiftly. “I backed away. He looked…angry.”
Jonah watched her as she shifted in her seat, the nails of her right hand tapping the table gently.
“Why do you think he was angry?”
She gave him a direct look. “Topaz had gone off with me and Brett, and Connor hated it. He was obsessed with her.”
“You think his attitude toward Topaz was unhealthy?”
“Damn right I do,” Coralie said. “She didn’t want to know, and she’d made it very clear to him a lot of times. But he still chased boys away whenever he could, and watched her with this…possessiveness.”
“Yet they ended up married,” Jonah pointed out. “So Topaz must have had some interest.”
“I never understood it,” Coralie said with sudden emotion. Jonah could see reflections in her eyes. She was struggling with tears, thirty years on. “It all changed that night, and suddenly Topaz was all about Connor. She shut me out….”
“Do you have any thoughts on what might have changed?” he asked.
“I wish I knew,” Coralie said.
Jonah let a silence elapse, waiting for more, but Coralie seemed to have come to a stop. He left with an image of Connor, alone and angry, burned into his mind’s eye.
18
Aurora
Saturday, July 23, 1983, 12:15 A.M.
It was a switch that had tripped in her head. She didn’t even need to try. She was drinking and chattering next to the dimming fire, first just to Benners, and then to Jojo and Connor as they came to take a break from their manic movement. Topaz and Coralie were standing with Topaz’s arm slung round little Coralie’s shoulders, the two of them talking quietly to Brett. She wasn’t worried what Topaz thought anymore. Let her sister do what she wanted, and Aurora would do the same.
“We should cycle somewhere next week,” Jojo said, and Aurora got the feeling she’d missed some of the earlier conversation.
Connor shook his head at her. “We only just cycled here.”
“No, I mean somewhere proper. A long ride. And then camp, and then ride again. Actually get somewhere. You got a bike, Aurora?”
“Yeah,” she said, considering her tatty pale-purple town bike with its basket. “It’s a bit crap, to be honest.”
“We don’t have to go fast,” Jojo said, grinning. “Benners is useless on a bike anyway.”
“Like, a few nights in a row?” Connor asked, frowning.
“Yeah. Like a vacation.”
Connor’s expression suddenly seemed a little angry. “I can’t do a vacation, Jojo.”
“It won’t cost anything,” she argued.
“Doesn’t matter. My dad would go mental. He’s going to expect me to be working.”
“But it’d just be a few days,” Benners said. “I’m sure you can talk him into being away for a few days.”
“You don’t have a fucking clue, do you?” Connor was suddenly savage. “Not a fucking clue. Either of you. Half the time it’s enough of an argument getting him to let me come to school, when there’s actual work I could be doing. Making money for him out of car parts, which are usually fucking stolen, or hiding things for him because he’s heard the cops are doing the rounds. And despite him being the one who’s dragging me through all his shit, it’s me who gets knocked over if something goes wrong. How exactly do either of you think I’m going to persuade him to let me go on a fucking vacation?”
“Hey, hey,” Jojo said. “I’m sorry. My fault. It wasn’t fair. We’ll find other stuff to do.”
She rubbed his shoulder. Connor was shaking, full of that fury that verges on tearful.
“We’ll find other stuff to do,” she repeated, and pressed the side of her head against his.
“I just want to leave,” he said. “I want to move out, but then I’d have to get a job somewhere. I wouldn’t be able to stay at school.”
“Don’t be soft,” Benners said. “If you think my family’s going to stand by and let you get a job when you’re the smartest person in the county, you’re not using yo
ur brain. My dad likes you better than he likes me. You’re not on your own.”
“I can’t do that,” Connor said quietly. “I can’t take someone else’s money.”
“You can if they want you to,” Benners said.
“And if you don’t want to move into posh land,” Jojo said, “my brother’s room’ll be free from September. You can stay there.”
She squeezed Connor’s hand. Aurora could see their sympathy undermining Connor’s anger. It was driving the tears closer to the surface.
“Come on. Do another line with me and think about fun things,” Jojo added.
Benners stood up unsteadily. “I want to dance. You’re up, Aurora. Time to embrace another part of life.”
She only hesitated for a moment before taking his hand. She let him pull her a little way from the red-orange fire. He spun her awkwardly under his arm. The music was a little bit angrier now. Another song she didn’t know.
As she started to listen to it, she found herself smiling. It reminded her of Connor, suddenly bursting into vocal rage before quieting down. It didn’t suit the way Benners was holding and spinning her, like some inept ballroom dancer. She started to laugh.
“What?” he asked, as he tried to swing her round and tripped over a stick. He was grinning. Laughing along with her.
“It’s like your arms and legs aren’t even attached to you,” she said.
“You have no appreciation of my art.”
She felt her self-consciousness leak away. She was careless and light.
He spun her round by both hands, fast enough that she was leaning backward against the spin. Then she screeched, half laughing, as she came close to the fire. Benners bent his arms and she was pulled toward him. She almost fell into him, and was breathless with laughter.
“Sorry,” Benners said, still holding on to her left hand.
“Seriously, Benners.” Connor was behind her, speaking over her shoulder. “You’re a disgrace.”
She looked round at him. He was slightly glassy-eyed. She wondered if that was what the drugs did. Jojo was crouched down behind him, rubbing at her nose. How much had they had?
Connor took Aurora’s free hand, and pulled her into a different sort of hold. One that was closer, and a lot stronger. She was surprised by how strong Connor was. She hadn’t expected it.
Benners released the hand he was still holding, and she put it on Connor’s shoulder. She wasn’t sure if it was because she wanted to enter into the hold, or to keep him a little way away from her.
“Try some real dancing.”
He began to nod to the beat, the pulse of it running through him. As he moved, it moved her, and she was shifting with him.
The carelessness left her in a rush. She was suddenly very aware of each and every part of her body. And of how she must look to him. Of her straggly, badly dried hair and her cheap nylon skirt.
And of him. And how he looked. That he was close enough for her to smell cheap aftershave and sweat. That he was smiling at her warmly, the boy who had always wanted her sister.
Topaz was watching her, too, but for the first time Aurora didn’t care. Let her look. Aurora was going to give this a chance, like Benners had said, and her sister would have to learn to live with it.
19
Connor looked quietly angry as Jonah and O’Malley got themselves set up opposite him.
“Have you been offered a tea?” Jonah asked, deciding to give it a few minutes before the hardline questioning.
“I’m fine, thank you,” Connor said coolly.
Jonah almost smiled. He guessed that Professor Dooley was used to having an effect when he was angry. It slid off Jonah like melting ice.
“So,” Jonah said, once the tape was running. “A few things have come up during our investigation that we would like your help with.”
“I’m sure,” Connor answered, his eyes hard behind his glasses.
“By your account,” Jonah said, “you went to bed after Topaz left with Brett Parker. Although we’ve since been told that she left with Brett and Coralie, and not with Brett alone.”
There was a brief silence, and then Connor shrugged. “I don’t really remember all that clearly. I know she used Coralie to draw him in. What happened after that…didn’t really interest me.”
“You didn’t see them leave together?”
“I don’t really remember,” Connor said quietly.
“OK. But moving on from there,” he said. “You’ve told us already that you went to sleep alongside Jojo Magos, and that she comforted you about Topaz and Brett. You didn’t mention getting back out of bed at any point.”
“That’s because I didn’t.” Connor’s voice was flat.
“Unfortunately, we have reason to believe otherwise,” O’Malley said, from a very relaxed pose.
There was another silence, while Connor looked momentarily at a loss. “I’m sure…I’m sure I didn’t get up.”
“So how were you seen by the fire, alone, after everyone else was in bed?” Jonah asked.
Connor shook his head. And then he sat forward, becoming more definite. “Look, that’s not something anyone has ever said to me. Back in ’83, we did a lot of talking, trying to piece things together. Why would it suddenly come up now?”
“The witness said there was a lot of pressure not to inform the police.”
Connor’s eyes were moving, either in an effort to remember or in an effort to think of some defense.
“No,” he said. “I really wasn’t up. I may have been drunk but I wasn’t that bloody drunk. I would have remembered getting up. The first I knew of Aurora being missing was the next morning, and it took a good while to put two and two together even then.”
“And nothing happened with Aurora earlier in the evening? Before you’d gone to bed? Perhaps before Jojo comforted you?” O’Malley asked.
“For God’s sake,” Connor said, putting his head down and rubbing at his forehead. “How many times do I have to say it? Nothing happened with Aurora. Not with me, and not with any of the others as far as I know.”
“Then why,” Jonah said coldly, “was your wife worried that you’d followed Aurora after she left?”
Connor started, and looked up at Jonah with an expression that was suddenly uncertain. “I don’t…Topaz wasn’t unsure….”
“She felt it necessary to check with you about what had happened,” Jonah said. “Thirty years on, she still felt that she needed to ask you what had really happened. I’d say that’s very unsure.”
Connor shook his head. “You’re…you’re misunderstanding the conversation.”
“What other reading can you give to that? I would welcome your insight.”
Connor looked down at the table and said nothing.
“So do you want to tell me what triggered Topaz’s concern?” Jonah asked.
“All right,” Connor said. “It’s not a big deal, but it could be easily misinterpreted. I tried…to kiss her.”
“Aurora?”
“Yes, Aurora.”
Jonah raised his eyebrows. “You tried to kiss this fourteen-year-old, apparently unfanciable girl?”
“Look, I didn’t…” Connor sighed, and looked up again, with an appeal in his expression. “It wasn’t about fancying her. It was about making Topaz jealous. I thought if I danced with Aurora, it would piss her off. And it did, but unfortunately she responded by trying harder with Brett. And when that happened, and she kissed him…I just…I tried to kiss Aurora, too.”
“Aurora wasn’t interested?”
“Who would be interested in someone clearly using them?” he asked with a shake of his head. “No, she wasn’t. And she told me to get off, so I did. At which point, she left the campsite, and I went and sobbed my heart out to Jojo.”
“Would you say you were angry about that?�
� Jonah asked, his voice deliberately harsh. “It must have been a real blow to your pride.”
“It was humiliating,” Connor said flatly. “I felt like a total idiot, and like a shit for upsetting Aurora. But the only person I was angry with was myself.”
“Not with Brett Parker?” Jonah asked. “I mean, he was off screwing your future wife.”
“No.”
“And not with the second girl who had rejected you that night?” he pressed.
“Of course not,” Connor protested. “It wasn’t her fault.”
“Because I could see you being angry about that,” Jonah went on. “I could see you waking up again, and stewing on it. Going to the campfire and brooding, and then deciding that Aurora was going to take it.”
“Jesus,” Connor said. “I did nothing like that.”
“I mean, you’d tried to kiss her in front of everyone. Maybe you’d got a little excited while dancing with her,” Jonah said, as if he hadn’t spoken. “You were a very volatile person, and your pride meant a lot to you. You probably felt you were owed a bit of a ride after everything Topaz had put you through.”
“Stop it!” Connor said, and Jonah could see that he was shaking slightly. He took a deep breath, and said, “Everything you are saying is horrible. I didn’t touch the poor kid after that. I left her to sleep. And then in the morning she was gone.”
Jonah let a silence elapse before he turned off the tape and suggested a break in the interview. Connor was still shaking by the time he and O’Malley had reached the door.
* * *
—
HANSON FORCED HERSELF to stop looking at Connor Dooley’s files after half an hour of browsing. He’d been in the interview room a good ten minutes, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that focusing on anything else was wasting time now.
But she needed to do her job, even if that meant filling time with pointless asides. She exited Connor’s entries in their file manager, and decided to search for Andrew Mackenzie instead, as the DCI had asked her to do. He’d insisted, firmly, that while Connor was a clear priority, there was reason enough to look at other people, and at the teacher in particular.
