Chapter Twenty-Five
‘Don’t Taser me, don’t Taser!’ Gerard mock-cowered under his desk as Avril approached, in uniform.
‘I will in a minute if you don’t give over. Paula, what’s this about?’
‘I’ve no idea. DS Corry wanted to speak to us both.’ She’d almost said DCI, forgetting that things had changed.
Avril heaved a sigh, lifting her heavy body armour. ‘I hope it’s away from these riots. You wouldn’t believe the abuse people hurl at you. Both sides.’ The uniformed police had been out all night, a spark of dissent having caught in the dry tinder of a long, hot summer. Stones had been thrown at police, and several people taken to hospital. There was talk of getting the water cannons out, as they did most summers. It being a seasonal thing, nobody was paying much heed.
There was something that stirred in the blood in Northern Ireland when summer hit – a brief heat that could take you by surprise, and equally be followed by days of stinging rain. It made people restless, reminding them they were sharing a small, wet island with another tribe. It was no surprise then that midsummer – Lúnasa – was when Yvonne had gone missing, and the hunger strikes had reached their peak. Every summer a restless wind began to blow and people seemed to decide en masse – it was time for a riot. Add in it being marching season too, when Orangemen liked to parade on the sites of places they’d beaten the Irish hundreds of years before, and the Catholics got annoyed, and the town was in uneasy ferment. From experience, it was only a matter of time before the stones turned into bullets, and the bullets into petrol bombs. And then it was usually another short matter of time before someone got killed.
‘There’s no such thing as sides in the police now, remember,’ said Gerard, himself Catholic. And that was an achievement, Paula thought. The PSNI was not seen, as the RUC had been, as the tool of the Protestant majority. Rather it disgruntled everyone equally, as should probably be the case.
‘Well, whatever. It’s a pain.’
‘Still, it’s good for overtime,’ said Gerard casually. ‘You know, in case you had anything to save up for. Like a wee flat deposit.’
Avril glared at him. Paula looked politely away. She and Aidan were lucky, in that respect. They had next to no religion between them, and though Pat would have preferred them not to cohabit, the ring on Paula’s finger was at least a gesture towards respectability. She spun it absently. Thinking of the burgeoning to-do list for the wedding, which she kept scrawled in the back of her diary. Flowers. Allergies and vegetarians. Maggie headband?? Oh God, what was the point of any of it? She looked at Avril and Gerard, the little smiles and in-jokes they tried and failed to hide. They were mad about each other. She and Aidan had never got that back, the first flush of it – not since she was seventeen and he was eighteen and they’d broken up so acrimoniously. They’d both seen too much for things to be simple between them.
The door of Willis Campbell’s office – once Corry’s – opened, and Corry herself put her head out. ‘Constable Wright, Dr Maguire, come in. Not you, Monaghan.’ She gave Gerard a hard stare. ‘Have you no work of your own to do?’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ He sloped off back to his own desk, watching as Avril went in. She sat down opposite, patting her fair hair into place. Willis made a show of shaking her hand – he never did that for Paula. She followed, slightly grouchy at being kept in the dark, her own hair flying out from its elastic band.
‘Thank you for coming, Constable Wright. I gather you used to be part of the defunct MPRU too?’
Defunct. A clunk of a word, meaning dead, meaning useless. Avril said, ‘Yes, sir. I was the analyst. Then I wanted to join the police properly.’
‘Excellent, excellent. We need more young women,’ he said earnestly. ‘And let me just ask – have you had surveillance training?’
She nodded. ‘I’m hoping to join CID, sir.’
‘Good. That’s good. Now, I must explain to you that what I’m going to ask needs to remain inside this room. You’re entirely free to say no, but if you do, you must not speak about it with anyone. Same for you, Dr Maguire.’
Paula raised her eyebrows – she’d no idea what this was about.
‘You understand, Constable Wright?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And forgive me, you’re how old?’
‘Er – I’m twenty-seven, sir.’
‘Good. You could pass for younger.’ Willis was suddenly embarrassed, blustering. ‘Er, that is . . .’ Paula hid a smile.
Corry did a barely perceptible eye-roll and broke in. ‘Avril. What we’re trying to say is you’re not a novice to this kind of work, and you’re not far off Alice’s age. So we’d like to ask how you’d feel about some undercover work.’
‘You mean—’
Willis recovered. ‘We’d like you to pose as a student, Constable Wright. Enrol at the college as a new admission – Katy Butcher’s new room-mate, to be exact.’
‘Did the college OK that?’ Paula was thinking of the hostile principal.
‘We didn’t give them much choice,’ said Corry, with a glint in her eye.
Willis was looking cross again. ‘Yes, well, they’ve agreed now I’ve spoken to them. All it took was a bit of diplomacy. We think someone at Oakdale has information. We want you to find out what happened to Alice. If she can be located, or if we should be making this a murder investigation.’
‘No way,’ said Gerard.
‘Eh, it’s not really up to you, is it?’ said Paula.
They were gathered in the Old Shepherd, a pub which had no other virtues than being the nearest to the station and not aligned to any particular political tradition. The kind of place where the landlord kept a baseball bat under the bar and most of the drinkers were police. Paula found it strange enough to see Avril there – when she’d first joined the force, she’d never even been inside a pub. Her family were clean-living, non-drinking. But there she sat, nursing a white wine spritzer, her hair tied back and an anxious expression on her face. She hadn’t said anything yet.
‘It’s too dangerous,’ Gerard said. ‘A girl’s already dead, probably – blonde girl, twenty-two, short – hello, that’s not a million miles off Avril, is it?’
‘I am here, you know,’ she said crossly, pushing her drink away.
‘Well, what do you think?’ Paula asked her.
‘I can’t believe they asked me. I mean, it’s a big deal, isn’t it?’
‘It is. Won’t do your chances at CID any harm.’
Gerard was still glowering. ‘Stop encouraging her, Maguire.’ Avril put her hand on his arm and he deflated. ‘I’m just worried,’ he said.
‘I know. But – they asked me for a reason.’
He rubbed a hand over the back of her neck. It was a neat trick, Paula thought, soothing him like that. When she and Aidan rowed – frequently – she inevitably said something that made things a hundred times worse. She wondered what he was doing now. Maggie was still at Pat’s, so Aidan would be out on his beat, whatever that involved. Chatting to drunks in pubs, getting information.
‘You think I should do it, Paula?’ Avril’s blue eyes were wide.
‘God, don’t be asking me. I’m not one for making sensible decisions . . .’
‘You can say that again,’ muttered Gerard.
Paula ignored him. ‘. . . But it will be an amazing opportunity, and I agree we need someone in there. We’re being misled right, left and centre.’ She wished Guy were there. He would know what to do, what the risks might be. And he cared about Avril – he’d worked with her for a year – unlike Willis Campbell, who only cared about his own designer-clad back. But she’d hardly seen him that day, both of them keeping busy, almost avoiding each other. At least it meant she could get away with still not telling Aidan.
‘Do you think I can pass for twenty?’ With her hair back, skin scrubbed fresh, Avril looked about fifteen.
Paula smiled. ‘No doubt about it.’
Chapter Twenty-Six
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�So Avril’s going to have a microphone on her normal phone. She won’t switch it on all the time, it eats up the battery, but if something’s happening she’ll be able to record it without looking suspicious. Those kids are never off their phones anyway.’
‘She’ll be on her own?’ Gerard said, too loud.
Corry glared at him. ‘Constable Wright is training to be a police officer, Sergeant. It’s highly likely she will find herself in dangerous situations at times. Teach her some self-defence if you’re worried.’
Gerard subsided, muttering that he might just do that.
‘Her brief is to befriend Katy and the others and try to find out what’s been going on. Those three kids are hiding something, I’m sure of it.’
Paula had got a shock at Avril’s undercover look when she’d turned up that morning, ready to be dropped off at Oakdale as a supposed new student. When they’d worked together, the younger woman had always been turned out in full make-up, hair pulled back, neat skirts and blouses and jumpers. Whereas Paula inevitably rolled up in trousers and some kind of cardy. Now Avril wore jeans and a hoody, dark-rimmed glasses. Pretty. Paula wondered if Peter Franks would notice that. After all, he seemed to like blondes.
‘So,’ said Corry. ‘We’ll monitor the operation from a terminal here in the station. She’ll turn the mic on if something important happens.’ She smiled reassuringly at Avril. ‘And if she’s concerned about anything, anything at all, she can clock in, and we’ll come and get her if she needs us to. OK?’
‘OK,’ said Avril, nervous. And Paula didn’t blame her. It felt like they were sending her friend into the lion’s den. But Avril was good with people. She knew the names of all the kids of everyone in the station, admin staff included, whereas Paula, who tended to get very caught up in cases, even forgot the names of the staff sometimes. How did you even find out the names of kids? Did you go around asking everyone and writing them down in a book? Avril would make a great Family Liaison Officer – but this was something else, something dangerous. It made Paula nervous, and Gerard Monaghan wasn’t the only person who’d be hovering by the monitoring station, waiting for it to crackle to life.
It wasn’t long before the first communication came through. Avril perhaps jumping too soon, turning on her mic. The first member of the trio to put their head above the parapet was Peter. Avril was in the entrance hall of the college, with instructions to look deliberately at sea, when he approached. The voice came through the terminal into the station. ‘Hello. You look totally lost.’
Avril’s laugh. In the incident room, Gerard tensed. ‘Oh yeah. I’m new, starting next term. Just not sure where I’m meant to be.’
‘Let me see.’ Rustle of paper. ‘You’re in room thirty-five. Hmm. Good luck.’
‘What is it?’
‘Oh, nothing, I just know it. There’s only one free, I guess. You’ll be sharing with a girl I know.’
‘Is she nice?’
‘Well . . . let’s just say, I’ll protect you, if you need it.’
‘Twat,’ muttered Gerard. Corry shushed him.
‘Thanks,’ Avril was saying. ‘It’s freaky, just turning up like this. I’ve had glandular fever so I’m a bit behind. I’ll be a year later than everyone.’
‘Oh, that’s nothing here.’ The paper rustled again. ‘Why don’t you come down to the buttery at dinner and look for me? I’ll tell you who people are. I’d carry your case but I’m late for rowing.’
‘Oh, that’s OK. Thanks for your help.’
How polite he was, in the midst of all those awkward overgrown teenagers. ‘I’m Peter. And you?’
‘Avril.’ It was easier to have the same first name when undercover – hard to remember to turn around, in a split second, when called by a different one.
‘Lovely name. Bye.’
God he was smooth. Avril’s breath sounded panicky as she turned the microphone off. She’d been told not to speak into it unless she was sure she was alone.
‘What do you think?’ said Corry, to Paula.
‘Not bad. She’s nervous, but it’ll probably seem like a new girl thing.’
‘She’ll be eaten alive,’ said Gerard crossly. ‘That sleazeball – I know what he did to that girl at his boarding school. Avril’s only wee. What if he hurts her?’
‘DS Monaghan. You’re off this case,’ said Corry. She was the same rank as him, but it was her case.
‘What?’
‘I’m not having you sitting about listening in for your girlfriend like you’re on Stalker FM. I have confidence in Constable Wright.’
‘It’s not her I’m worried about, it’s him.’
‘We’ll put her in a burqa then, will we?’
‘I never—’
‘It’s the same argument. Now remember Constable Wright is there to draw things out. Find out what happened. So go and do something useful.’
‘What?’ he said sulkily.
‘Dig up the Yvonne O’Neill files again. We’re going to have to go through it more carefully, check every bit of evidence. There must be a link between the cases. I want to know if we missed something.’
As he went, stroppily, Paula shuddered. ‘I hope Avril can handle this.’
‘She’s brave. She can manage.’ But Corry didn’t sound convinced, and for the rest of the day they both continued to watch the terminal for any signs of life.
‘So how come this bed’s empty?’ Avril’s voice drifted out. Corry signalled to Paula from across the room.
‘Oh, it’s my old room-mate.’ Katy’s voice. ‘You know on the news – the girl who’s missing.’
‘Oh my God! She was here?’
‘Yeah, but like, she’d moved out before. She was living out of town in this weird cottage.’
‘Ew, why? Was she mental?’ Avril sounded totally convincing as a twenty-year-old.
‘Kind of. She . . . well, Alice has some issues.’
‘God,’ Avril was saying. ‘Why did she do that? I mean, she must have told you everything; did something happen to make her go?’
There was a pause. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Well, God, it’s a bit spooky, isn’t it? I mean, someone could have killed her. It could be someone from here. My parents didn’t want me to come because of it.’
There was a noise as if Katy was moving around. ‘You came really early. Term doesn’t start for like a month.’
They’d invented a backstory where Avril had failed her first year because of glandular fever. ‘Yeah, I know. They wanted me to get caught up. I was sick all of last year.’ Avril tried again. ‘So did you not get on with her, Alice?’
There was a pause before Katy answered, quietly. ‘We were best friends. I mean, I thought we were. Then she just took off. I hardly saw her any more.’
‘You must be really worried about her. I mean, what if something happened to her?’
‘It didn’t.’ Katy said this in a flat monotone.
Avril sounded confused. ‘But how do you . . .’
‘Look, I knew Alice really well. Like I said, we were best friends. And this is what she does. Things get too much for her and she runs.’
‘But – I heard the police found blood.’ Avril needed to be careful here. A twenty-year-old arts student shouldn’t know too much about the case.
‘I know, but . . . there’ll be a reason for all that. She’ll turn up. She had her reasons to go.’
‘What do you mean?’
The thump of Avril’s heartbeat. Keep calm, Paula urged her silently. Don’t push it. She wants to tell you. She saw in the corner of her eye that Corry was listening intently.
Katy didn’t say anything for a while. ‘Do you mind if we don’t talk about it? Sharing with Alice – it wasn’t easy sometimes.’
Avril said quickly, ‘God, I’m sorry, asking all these questions when you must be worried sick. I was just, you know – bit nervous being the new girl.’
When Katy spoke again her voice had changed. ‘God, it’s nice to share a ro
om with someone normal. Don’t worry about being new. Everyone here’s had it at some point. Trust me.’
‘Aw, thanks, you’re sweet. So . . . I met this guy earlier. Peter someone?’
‘Peter Franks.’ Katy’s voice narrowed.
‘You know him?’
‘Tall, fair hair?’
‘Yeah. He’s sort of cute. What’s his story?’
Katy was probably trying to sound light, but it didn’t come out that way. ‘Oh, I’d stay away if I were you. He’s a hot mess.’
‘Really? You’ve never . . . gone there, then?’
Katy gave a dry laugh, which aimed for sophisticated and fell into cynical. ‘God, no. Not my type.’
‘I guess the posh boys are usually a bit up themselves, right enough.’
‘More than that. Peter kind of thinks that if he sees it, it’s his, you know?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, he’s bad news. Don’t take a drink off him, like.’
‘God, really?’
‘Really.’
Paula wondered if Gerard was in earshot – thankfully he seemed to be out actually doing some work for a change.
Avril said, ‘I’ll stay well clear then. Any other cute boys here? I saw this one guy in the library. Glasses, sort of nerdy chic . . .’
‘Dermot?’ Katy seemed to be warming into the role of wise friend. ‘Hon, you’re barking up the wrong tree there.’
‘You mean—’
‘Yeah. I mean he’s so in denial about it, but you can tell. Think he has a thing about Peter as well. He’s good if you ever need anything, though.’
‘Like what?’
Katy said, ‘You know. Stuff. Meds the doctors won’t give you. Or for fun. Dermot’s your man. He can always get stuff.’
‘Wow. Are there any non-fucked up guys here?’
Katy laughed, and this time it was the first genuine sound of warmth Paula had heard from her. ‘Nope. Welcome to Weirdsville. Nothing but druggies and fuck-ups here.’
‘And us,’ said Avril chummily.
Katy laughed again. ‘Yep. We’ll just have to stick together.’
A Savage Hunger (Paula Maguire 4) Page 16
