Endgame: CSI Reilly Steel #7

by Casey Hill

  “Find out who this girl is,” she said to Rory, hoping whomever Becks was might able to give them some clue as to which way to head next in their investigation, “and see if you can get a look at Holly Glynn’s social media too. Find out who she was talking to, especially that night.”

  13

  CMc2020: C’mon spill @CoolChulainn. What did you see?

  CoolChulainn: We all saw the aggro that night with G and Big Bro. Remember the way he tore into him over D-Man or BiCeption or whatever name that gym rat uses to big himself up. Not cool to be raining his shit around at someone’s house….

  PuckingNinja: Don’t be talking out your a**e, sure that was only pure banter between bros. And BiCeption wasn’t dishing out gym candy last night afaik.

  Biception: Hey @CoolChulainn, you’re a brave man behind the keyboard. If u have something to say, maybe try saying it to my face?

  CoolChulainn @Biception I’m on my phone not a keyboard. Anyway, I’ve no probs saying it to your face. It’s time you were called out: what good are you to the team standing around taking selfies of your pecs for Insta? Plenty of cops around now to take an interest in your not-so-secret sideline …

  Missislippy: Guys, this isn’t helpful. @CoolChulainn if you do remember something helpful about that night, you should contact the police. Slagging off D-Man doesn’t help …

  Biception: @CoolChulainn, start throwing accusations like that around and you’d better be able to back them up. Much as I’d love to knock you out, I’ll make it official and have my ‘oul fella haul you to court for slander.

  CoolChulainn: @Biception… threatening me with your big-shot solicitor dad? Bahahaha….priceless. I don’t need proof; one of my best friend’s is dead.

  PuckingNinja: Chill the f**k out people. Everybody is going through a s**t storm right now, no need to turn on each other. There has to be a reason for what happened, I knew everybody there that night and we know it wasn't one of us.

  Missislippy: Then who was it?

  CMc2020: It’s all a bit of a blur to me TBH. There were a couple of dudes I didn't recognize, like that gobshite friend of Simon’s who thought it would be a good idea to slide down the stairs on a freakin’ DOOR? How the f**k did he even get it off its hinges?

  PuckingNinja: Yeah, that guy was pretty wasted all right. I heard Si telling him to f**k off home after that stunt, the dumb d***head…

  Missislippy: Tool. Thought he was God’s gift too, tried it on with me a couple of times. Does anybody know if the house was maybe burgled or anything? Maybe G stumbled across somebody trying to break in?

  Biception: Or maybe there’s a connection between our two ‘victims’…

  Missislippy: What the hell does that mean Gym Rat? Are you suggesting Holly had something to do with what happened to HackR? You really are a piece of s**t!

  Biception: I’m just saying anything is possible…

  CoolChulainn: Well, thank f**k you’re not the one running the investigation if you think Holly is capable of anything like that….

  14

  Next, the detectives paid a visit to the other family affected by the fateful events of Wednesday night.

  The Glynn house looked almost identical to the Hackett residence about half a mile over in a similar estate. A prim front lawn, colourful flowers lining the windows in the front, and a bright red door that stood out in contrast to the white pebble-dash wall out front. By looking at the cheery exterior of both houses, you would never guess the tragedies that had recently befallen their younger inhabitants.

  Chris knocked on the door and the pretty middle-aged woman he’d met briefly at the hospital answered. Susan Glynn was today dressed in a simple blue blouse, white pants and ballet flats, her hair pulled away from her face with a headband.

  “Good morning,” she said, her tone automatically polite but with an underlying gravity.

  “Good morning, Mrs. Glynn. We spoke on the phone earlier - Detective Delaney from the hospital the other day. This is my partner Detective Kennedy, and as mentioned, we’d like to ask you a few more questions about Holly’s attack.”

  The woman glanced back into the house, then licked her lips nervously and regarded the two men, “Yes, I think that should be all right, but Holly’s upstairs, and she is trying to get some much-needed rest.”

  “We’ll try not to take up too much of your time, Mrs Glynn,” Kennedy said sympathetically, “our condolences for your daughter’s recent trouble. I have two girls of my own and …”

  Mrs. Glynn nodded quickly then, as though that was all he needed to say. She opened the door wider and led the two men into the living room and showed them where to sit, before rushing off to the kitchen to bring them some refreshments to enjoy over their conversation like any decent Irish host.

  Tea served, Susan Glynn looked nervously between the two of them. At first, she had been unsure about answering questions without her husband present. Holly’s attack had sent Michael on a crazed man-hunt, and Susan was aware that he had spent most of his time since he first got the call trying to gather answers, and pressing the police to work harder to find their daughter’s attacker.

  But she knew it wouldn’t hurt to talk to the detectives - she felt terribly for the Hackett family and she didn’t have anything to hide. If any insight she could offer might help the police find the person who’d hurt her Holly or Graham Hackett, it might well help both families.

  She was nervous and sat on the edge of her seat, her hands clasped tightly together. A plate of Rich Tea biscuits sat untouched on the coffee table between them. “Okay,” she managed to say, though her word came out in one choppy syllable, forced from her lungs in one desperate gasp.

  “Mrs Glynn,” Chris said gently, opening his notebook. “Let’s start first with your daughter. We know Holly attended the get-together at the Hackett residence. Did she often attend parties like this one?”

  Susan shook her head and bit her lip, her nervousness apparent in her posture. The poor woman looked on the edge of tears, or a nervous breakdown and Chris took note of this as she attempted to answer. “I…” she started, before trailing off and looking to the floor.

  “Mrs. Glynn,” Kennedy put in, “my partner and I are here to help you. We need to put together a timeline as well establish a roll call for those present at the house that night - just a few simple questions to help us establish the facts. ”

  Susan nodded and sat back in her chair, and Chris could tell that she was doing her best to try and relax. Her neatly styled bob was pushed back away from her face and her blouse and jeans were impeccable.

  “Holly didn’t attend student parties often, the focus has been on study for so long now, there hasn't been much time for parties,” she managed to say, finally. “Only when there was something to celebrate, or when her friends were getting together. And she always asked permission.”

  Kennedy rolled his eyes at that. Yeah, right.

  Raising two teenage daughters of his own, he knew for a fact that they didn’t always ask for permission. He loved his two more than anything on earth and would fight to the death for them – but that didn’t mean he thought they were perfect, or that they never made mistakes. “Okay, and who are Holly’s friends - can you give us some names?”

  The woman’s lips tightened a bit more, and she glanced down at her hands in a sign of clear discontent. “They’re mostly nice girls…” she started, with an air that told Chris and Kennedy that she was just saving face. “It’s some of them are… involved with some things I don’t necessarily want Holly associated with, you know. Behaviors with boys and whatnot.”

  Kennedy nodded earnestly, and Chris could tell by the look in his partner’s eyes that he understood such fears.

  While Susan Glynn listed off the names of the girls she wasn't all that sure about, Chris’s eyes wandered. He noticed a cage in the corner of the living room, big enough for a small dog, but different in design. Perhaps the Glynns had a budgie, or a rabbit or some such.

 
“And what about Holly’s relationship with Graham Hackett?” Kennedy was asking, “They were going out together apparently?”

  Mrs. Glynn shook her head, “In so much as teenagers go out together these days. Of course I don’t think they even call it ‘going out’ anymore. Whatever it was, it was nothing serious, and I don’t think they broke up on bad terms, or anything. I wasn’t too disappointed when she told me she and the Hackett boy were no longer an item, as she didn't need the distraction with exams coming up. He did call here to pick her up once or twice, and from what I could tell he was a nice boy, respectful and well-mannered. He was on Conor’s team too, I think.”

  “Conor?” Chris queried.

  “Holly’s older brother. He plays - played - hurling with Graham Hackett too. By all accounts Graham was very talented.”

  “Was Conor at the house party that night?” Chris glanced up and over Susan’s head, examining the photos on the mantle. His gaze settled on one of Holly and a boy, evidently the brother. Though Mrs Glynn had said Conor was older, it looked like there was no more than a year or so between them.

  “No he and Holly…” Susan’s eyes drifted to the opposite wall and she chewed on her bottom lip, “they were really close when they were younger. Twins,” she added, surprising Chris. “Holly and Conor are twins, but he’s older by ten minutes. We used to do the matching outfit thing as much as we could with boys and girls clothes, you know, because who couldn’t resist such cuteness? But I suppose they got tired of being a twosome and towards the end of primary school they grew apart. They hardly spend any time together now, except for family occasions, or when they’re forced into the same room. Typical teenagers.”

  “But he and Graham Hackett were team-mates you said?”

  “Yes, they play - played - both football and hurling together as far as I know. Conor was lucky enough to get a football scholarship to play Aussie Rules in Sydney after the summer break.”

  “Nice one,” Kennedy said enviously, obviously thinking about the sunny, outdoor Aussie lifestyle. Not to mention the famed barbecues.

  “I’m sure you’ll miss him,” Chris supplied, knowing by the look on Susan Glynn’s face that she was torn by pride for her son’s achievements, and the fact that those same achievements would be taking him away from her.

  Just then, they all heard the sound of footsteps making their way along the landing on the floor above them.

  “Sounds like Holly’s awake,” Kennedy said pointedly. “Do you think we might be able to speak with her now?”

  Mrs Glynn looked pained, but acquiesced. “I’ll check, but please be patient with her detectives. She’s been through a torrid time and has been very withdrawn since she came home from the hospital.”

  “Of course,” Chris told her. “The victim liaison officer will be in touch soon to offer counselling if she hasn't already. I would highly recommend availing of their services Mrs Glynn, they are highly trained and very good at their jobs.” As Susan stood up to fetch her daughter, he put a comforting hand on her arm. “Any information Holly gives us could potentially help find not only her attacker but also the person responsible for the death of her friend. If she and Graham were close, like you said, then I’m sure she’ll want to help.”

  Susan nodded. “OK. Wait here and I’ll get her. But I’ve asked … and she really doesn’t remember much about what happened.”

  Chris and Kennedy exchanged knowing looks as they both reflected on the sensitivity of the situation. Usually, it was Special Victims Officers or female detectives who questioned victims of sexual assault. What made this case different was the fact that there was a victim of another sort now lying in the morgue.

  Muffled voices came from overhead, followed by movement on the landing and then footsteps drew closer heralded by creaking floorboards.

  Mrs Glynn re-entered the room, followed by her daughter, who was wrapped in a bright pick dressing gown and wearing flowery PJ bottoms and novelty slippers featuring smiling cartoon characters. Holly walked behind her mother with her head bowed slightly, her hair tied back in a ponytail and looking infinitely younger than the social media profile image the investigators had seen in the meantime.

  For his part, Kennedy felt his chest tighten. Seeing this poor kid, so young and lost reminded him of his own girls. The thought of them being in Holly’s position was enough to make even a hardened detective like him swallow with a mixture of pity and discomfort.

  Both men stood to their feet as the mother and daughter sat closely on the two seater couch opposite. Instead of offering a handshake, the detectives simply waited for Holly and her mother to get settled before retaking their own seats.

  “Holly, my name is Chris and this is Pete. We won’t keep you long; there’s just a couple of simple questions we need to ask about the other night.”

  He looked across at Kennedy then to allow him take the lead, aware that his position as a father of two teenage girls probably gave him an advantage in making a connection.

  His partner took the cue. “Pet, before we start I’d just like to say we are very sorry for what happened to you, and want to reassure you we will not rest until the person responsible is brought to justice,” Kennedy said in a tone that Chris rarely heard from his partner. Even though the big man was a true professional, he had no doubt the nature of this investigation would strike a personal chord.

  “If you’re finding any questions too difficult, let us know. This is just a quick chat to see are there any stand-out details that can assist us get a handle on your attack or indeed the attack on Graham,” Chris added, wanting to also let her know that there would be some questioning in relation to the murder of her friend.

  Holly nodded in a weak fashion.

  “The most important thing we need to establish is whether you can give us a description of the person who attacked you - do you think you could do that sweetheart?” Kennedy soothed.

  “I don’t know … the whole thing is such a blur…” Holly trailed off looking sideways toward her mother who wore a pained expression as she tried to exude a reassuring warmth to ease her daughter’s discomfort.

  “It’s OK, take your time,” Chris offered. “I know you mentioned in your initial statement to my colleague at the hospital that you didn’t recognize the person who attacked you. Is that still the case?” he pressed.

  “No…. I mean yes, I don’t remember seeing his face…it was dark and I was….” The girl trailed off again, gazing down at an invisible object on the coffee table. “I mean, it was late, I was tired and I’d had a good few drinks - well not that many really but I just felt….you know, desperate for sleep,” Holly said, as she retracted her hands further up her sleeves avoiding eye contact and evidently embarrassed that she had put herself in a vulnerable position.

  “That’s OK, Holly. Sometimes people in these situations think they don’t remember anything at all, but the tiniest of details might be useful to us - like say the colour of hair or clothing?” Kennedy encouraged.

  “It was dark…his clothes were dark, at least I don’t remember anything specific …” Holly shuffled in her seat uneasily, as she forced herself to think back to a moment she would have likely gladly wipe from her memory forever given the chance.

  “OK, Dark clothes, good, what about hair colour?” Chris pressed, trying to harvest as much information from her mental journey back to the scene of the crime.

  Holly shook her head without lifting it. “Sorry, no.”

  “That’s good Holly, you're doing great. So let’s go back to the house party for a second - what do you remember from that?” Kennedy changed tack slightly to try ascertain what she did remember.

  “It was a good night, everybody was buzzing…we just felt….I don’t know, free I suppose, after the exams?”

  “Was there any trouble at the party?” Kennedy asked. “Any messing around amongst the lads maybe?”

  “No, it was all good-natured. Graham and Simon were buzzing off each other a bit, but that
was nothing new,” Holly told them.

  “Buzzing off each other?” Chris prompted. “Was it a serious argument?”

  “No, like I said they always buzzed off each other. Simon was a bit grumpy because Graham was drunk and too many people kept showing up.”

  “When was the last time you spoke to Graham that night?” Kennedy asked gently.

  She looked sideways at her mother and Chris knew she was obviously reluctant to say anything about being in Graham’s bedroom as reported by Tiernan. “I’m not sure … we’d all done some shots in the kitchen and then outside on the decking I started to feel a bit woozy, so Graham showed me where the bathroom was upstairs…”

  I wonder, Chris thought, keeping an open mind on that one.

  Then a bit after that, Megan hooked up with some fella I didn't recognize, one of Simon’s friends. I went after Megan and followed them down the back of the garden but didn’t know which way they went after that. Graham was back inside the house at this stage, I think….

  Anyway, as I said, I felt a bit sick after the shots; the lemon slices we’d taken with them turned my stomach. And by then it was late, so I decided to just head home. That’s when things got blurry …”

  Holly was in obvious discomfort recounting her underage drunken exploits to not only two detectives, but also her mother.

  “Do you know what time that was?” Chris asked. “When you headed for home?”

  “I’m not really sure … I tried to ring Megan but it went straight to message minder. I checked my phone and it says that was around one forty,” Holly supplied. “So it would have been a little after that when I left.”