by Tana French
Holly’s hands fly up and out. ‘Oh my God, since when do you care what Sister Ignatius thinks you should do?’
‘I don’t give a fuck about Sister Ignatius. I care if I end up stuck in, like, needlework class next year because I fail my—’
‘Oh, yeah, right, because of one hour one night, you’re totally going to—’
‘I want to go,’ Selena says. She’s stopped walking.
The rest of them stop too. Holly catches Julia’s eye and widens hers, warning. This is the first time in weeks that Lenie has wanted anything.
Julia takes a breath like she’s got another argument ready, the heaviest of all. Then she looks at the three of them and puts it away again.
‘OK,’ she says. Her voice has dulled. ‘Whatever, I guess. Just, if it doesn’t . . .’
‘If what doesn’t what?’ Becca asks, after a moment.
Julia says, ‘Nothing. Let’s do it.’
‘Woohoo!’ Becca says, and jumps high to pull a flower off a branch. Selena starts walking and goes back to watching the leaves. Holly takes her elbow again.
They’re almost at the Court; the warm sugary smell of doughnuts reaches out to make their mouths water. Something seizes Holly, in the tender space between where her breasts are growing, and drags downwards. At first she thinks she’s hungry. It takes her a moment to understand that it’s loss.
Outside their window the moon is slim and running wild with streaks of cloud. Their movements as they dress are filled up with every other time, with the first can’t-believe-we’re-doing-this half-joke, with the magic of a bottle cap floating above a palm, of a flame turning them to gold masks. As they pull up their hoods and take their shoes in their hands, as they slow-motion like dancers down the stairs, they feel themselves slowly turn buoyant again, feel the world flower and shiver as it waits for them. A smile is tipping the corner of Lenie’s mouth; on the landing Becca turns her palms to the white-lit window like a thanksgiving prayer. Even Julia who thought she knew better is beating with it, the bubble of hope expanding inside her ribs till it hurts, What if, maybe, maybe we really could—
The key won’t turn.
They stare at each other, wiped blank.
‘Let me try,’ Holly whispers. Julia steps back. The rhythm in their ears is pounding faster.
It won’t turn.
‘They’ve changed the lock,’ Becca whispers.
‘What do we do?’
‘Get out of here.’
‘Let’s go.’
Holly can’t get the key out.
‘Come on come on come on—’
The terror leaps like wildfire among them. Selena has her mouth pushed into her forearm to keep herself quiet. The key rattles and grates; Julia shoves Holly out of the way – ‘Jesus, did you break it?’ – and grabs it in both hands. In the second when it looks like it’s really stuck, all four of them almost scream.
Then it shoots out, slamming Julia backwards into Becca. The thump and oof of breath and scrabble for balance sound loud enough to call out the school. They run, flailing clumsy in slipping sock-feet, teeth bared with fear. Into their room and the door closing too hard, clawing clothes off and pyjamas on, leaping for their beds like animals. By the time the prefect drags herself awake and comes shuffling down the corridor to stick her head in at each door, they have themselves and their breathing all neatly arranged. She doesn’t care if they’re faking or not, as long as they’re doing nothing that could get her in trouble; one glance around their smooth sleeping faces, and she yawns and closes the door again.
None of them say anything. They keep their eyes closed. They lie still and feel the world change shape around them and inside them, feel the boundaries set solid; feel the wild left outside, to prowl perimeters till it thins into something imagined, something forgotten.
Chapter 29
The night had turned denser, ripening with little scurries and eddies of scent, things we couldn’t trace. The moonlight was coming down thick enough to drench us.
I said, ‘You got that, what she gave us. Yeah?’
Conway was moving fast back along the path, mind already leaping up that slope to Rebecca. ‘Yeah. Selena and Rebecca go to their room for their instruments. Either Rebecca’s pissed off enough with Selena that she hides Chris’s phone to frame her, or she gives it to Selena – here you go, your dead fella’s phone, just what you’ve always wanted – and Selena stashes it to deal with some other time.’
We were keeping our voices down; girls could be hidden like hunters behind any tree. I said, ‘That, and Holly’s out. Rebecca was working on her own.’
‘Nah. Holly could’ve stashed Chris’s phone when she took Selena’s.’
I said, ‘Why, but? Say she had Chris’s phone, or access to it: why not dump it in the lost-and-found bin along with Selena’s, if she was trying to take suspicion off her lot? Or if she was trying to frame Selena, why not leave both phones behind her bed? There’s no reason why she’d want to do different things with the two phones. Holly’s out.’ A couple of hours too late. We had Mackey for an enemy now, not an ally.
Conway thought that through for two fast steps, gave it the nod. ‘Rebecca. All on her ownio.’
I thought of that triple creature, still and watching. All on her ownio seemed like the wrong words.
Conway said, ‘We still don’t have enough on her. It’s all circumstantial, and the prosecutors don’t like that. Specially when it’s a kid. Extra-specially when it’s a little rich kid.’
‘It’s circumstantial, but there’s a load of it. Rebecca had plenty of reasons to be pissed off with Chris. She was able to get out at night. She was seen with the weapon the day before the murder. She’s one of the only two people who could’ve put Chris’s phone where it was found—’
‘If you believe a dozen stories from half a dozen other teenage girls who’ve all lied their little arses off to us. A decent defence barrister’ll have reasonable doubt all over it inside five minutes. Plenty of girls had better reasons to be pissed off with Chris. Seven others could get out at night, and that’s just the ones we know about; how do we prove no one else had found out where Joanne kept her key? Chris’s phone: Rebecca or Selena could’ve found it wherever the killer dumped it, stashed it behind the bed while they worked out what to do with it.’
‘So what was Rebecca doing messing about with the murder weapon?’
‘Gemma made that up. Or Rebecca was there to buy drugs. Or she actually was into gardening. Pick your favourite.’ Conway’s stride was lengthening. By now I knew that was frustration. ‘Or she was scouting for Julia, or Selena, or Holly. We know they’re out, but we’ve got nothing solid to prove it. Which means we’ve got nothing solid that proves Rebecca.’
I said, ‘We need a confession.’
‘Yeah, that’d be great. You go pick us up one of those. Get next week’s Lotto numbers, while you’re at it.’
I ignored that. ‘Here’s what I’ve spotted about Rebecca: she’s not scared. And she should be. Her situation, anyone but an idiot would be petrified, and she’s no idiot. But she’s still not scared of us.’
‘So?’
‘So she must think she’s safe.’
Conway shoved a branch out of her face. ‘She fucking is, unless we come up with something amazing.’
I said, ‘Tell you the one time I’ve seen her scared. In the common room, when everyone was losing the head about the ghost. We were so busy with Alison, we paid no attention to Rebecca, but she was terrified. We don’t scare her; doesn’t matter what we throw at her, evidence, witnesses, it won’t shake her. Chris’s ghost does.’
‘So what? You wanna dress up in a sheet and wave your arms at her from behind a tree? Because I swear to God, I’m almost that desperate.’
I said, ‘I just want to talk to her about the ghost. Just talk to her. See where it goes.’
It had hit me while I was on the grass with Joanne’s lot: every girl in that common room had thought Chris was there
specially for her. Rebecca had known it.
That made Conway glance my way. She said, ‘Thin ice.’
If the ghost got something out of Rebecca, we were in for a fight, down the line. The defence would scream coercion, intimidation, scream about no appropriate adult present, try to get whatever she said ruled inadmissible. We would argue exigent circumstances: we needed to get Rebecca out of there, that night. Might work, might not.
If we didn’t get something now, we were getting nothing, ever.
I said, ‘I’ll be careful.’
‘OK,’ Conway said. ‘Go for it. Fuck knows I’ve got nothing better.’
I knew the raw-scraped sound in her voice by now. Knew better than to try and soothe it. ‘Thanks,’ I said.
‘Yeah.’
Around the bend in the path, in under the trees – it felt like a drop into nothing, that step into the streaked black – and I smelled smoke. Could’ve been schoolgirl boldness, but I knew.
Mackey, leaning against a tree, all shoulder-slope and crossed ankles. ‘Nice night for it,’ he said.
We braked like kids caught snogging. I went red. Felt him see it through the dark, amused.
‘Good to see you two crazy kids sorted out your problems. I wondered if you might. Been having fun?’
Behind his shoulder, the hyacinth bed. The flowers glowed blue-white like they were lit from inside. Behind that, up the slope, Selena and Rebecca had their heads bent close. Mackey was guarding them.
Conway said, ‘We’d like you to go inside and stay with your daughter. We’ll be with you as soon as we can.’
Cigarette caught between his knuckles, looked like the ember was blooming deep inside his black fist. He said, ‘It’s been a long day. And these girls, in fairness to them, they’re only kids. They’re shattered, stressed out, all the rest. Not trying to teach you two your job – God forbid – but I’m just saying: I wouldn’t put too much stock in anything you get out of them at this point. A jury wouldn’t.’
I said, ‘We don’t suspect Holly of the murder.’
‘No? That’s nice to know.’
Smoke curling through the stripes of moonlight. He didn’t believe me.
‘We’ve got new information,’ Conway said. ‘It points away from Holly.’
‘Well done. And in the morning, you can go galloping off wherever that information takes you. Now it’s time to go home. Stop in the pub on the way, get yourselves a nice pint to celebrate the beginning of a beautiful friendship.’
Behind him, a shadow slipped out of the trees, fitted itself into place beside Selena. Julia.
Conway said, ‘We’re not done here yet.’
‘Yes, Detective. You are.’
Gentle voice, but the glint of his eyes. Mackey meant it. ‘I’ve been picking up some information of my own. Three lovely girls saw me wandering around looking for you two, and they called me over.’ That dark hand with the burning core, lifting to point at me. ‘Detective Moran. You’ve been a bad boy.’
Conway said, ‘If anyone’s got a problem with Detective Moran, they need to take it to his superintendent. Not to you.’
‘Ah, but they’ve come to me now. I think I can convince them that Detective Moran didn’t actually try to seduce their irresistible selves, and that one of them – blond, skinny, no eyebrows? – didn’t actually feel her virtue was in imminent danger. But you’re going to need to get out of my way and let me do it in peace. Is that clear?’
I said, ‘I can look after myself. Thanks all the same.’
‘I wish I agreed with you, kid. I really do.’
‘If I’m wrong, it’s not your problem. And who we talk to isn’t your call.’
The words felt strange and strong, rising out of me, strong as trees. Conway’s shoulder was against mine, level and solid.
Lift of Mackey’s eyebrow, in a stripe of light. ‘Oo, get you. Did you grow those yourself, or did you borrow them off your new pal?’
‘Mr Mackey,’ Conway said. ‘Let me explain to you what’s going to happen now. Detective Moran’s going to talk to these three girls. I’m going to observe, with my mouth shut. If you think you can manage the same, feel free. If you can’t, then fuck off and leave us to it.’
The eyebrow stayed up. To me: ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
About Conway, about what Joanne could do, about what he would do. He was right, on every one of them. And – what a guy – he was giving me one last chance, for old times’ sake, to play nice.
‘I won’t,’ I said. ‘Word of honour, man: I’d never claim that.’
Quick sniff of laughter from Conway. Then the two of us turned our backs on Mackey and moved through the miasma of hyacinths, up the slope towards the glade.
Under the cypresses Conway stopped. I heard Mackey’s long leisurely stride catch up with her, felt her stretch out an arm: far enough.
He stopped because he’d been going to anyway. If anything led even an inch towards Holly, Conway wouldn’t be able to hold him back.
I stepped out into the clearing and stood in front of those three girls.
The moon stripped my face bare to them. It turned them black-invisible, blazed their outline like a great white rune written on the air. Joanne and her lot were danger, bad danger. They were nothing compared to this.
I cleared my throat. They didn’t move.
I said, ‘Do yous not have to head indoors for lights-out, no?’
My voice came out weak, a limp thread. One of them said, ‘We’ll go in a minute.’
‘Right. Grand. I just wanted to say . . .’ Foot to foot, rustling in the long grass. ‘Thanks for all your help. It’s been great. Really made a difference.’
A voice asked, ‘Where’s Holly?’
‘She’s inside.’
‘Why?’
I twisted. ‘She’s a bit shaken up. I mean, she’s grand, but that thing back in the common room, with the . . . you know. Chris’s ghost.’
Julia’s voice said, ‘There wasn’t any ghost. That was just people looking for attention.’
A shift, under the curves of that rune sign. Selena’s voice said softly, ‘I saw him.’
Another movement, quicker and cut off. Julia had elbowed Selena, kicked her, something.
I asked, ‘Rebecca? How about you?’
After a moment, from inside the dark: ‘I saw him.’
‘Yeah? What was he doing?’
Another ripple through that rune, changed the meaning in subtle ways I couldn’t read.
‘He was talking. Fast, like jabbering; like, he never stopped to breathe. I guess he doesn’t need to.’
‘What was he saying?’
‘I couldn’t tell. I was trying to read his lips, but he was going too fast. One time he . . .’ Rebecca’s voice split on a shiver. ‘He laughed.’
‘Could you tell who he was talking to?’
Silence. Then – so soft, I would’ve missed it, only my ears were wide open as an animal’s – ‘To me.’
A tiny catch of breath, almost a gasp, from somewhere else in that condensation of darkness.
I asked, ‘Why you?’
‘I told you. I couldn’t hear.’
‘This morning you said you and Chris weren’t close.’
‘We weren’t.’
‘So it’s not like he misses you so much, he had to come back and tell you that.’
Nothing.
‘Rebecca.’
‘Probably not. I guess. I don’t know.’
‘Not like he was secretly in love with you, no?’
‘No!’
I said, ‘You know how you looked, in there? Scared. Like, really scared.’
‘I saw a ghost. You’d be scared too.’
The raw flick of defiance: she didn’t sound like a mystery now, not like a danger. Sounded like a kid, just a teenage kid. The power was seeping out of her; fear was seeping in.
Julia said, ‘Don’t talk to him any more.’
I said, ‘Did you think he was goin
g to hurt you?’
‘How would I know?’
‘Becs. Shut up.’
No way to tell if Julia was just wary, or if she was starting to understand. ‘But,’ I said, fast, ‘but Rebecca, I thought you liked Chris. You told us he was sound. Was that a lie? He was actually a dickhead?’
‘No. He wasn’t. He was kind.’
That flare of defiance again, hotter. This mattered to her.
I shrugged. ‘Everything we’ve learned, he sounds like a dickhead. He used girls for whatever he could get, dumped them as soon as he wasn’t getting it. A real prize.’
‘No. Colm’s is full of those – they don’t care what they wreck, they’ll do anything to anyone as long as they get what they want. I know the difference. Chris wasn’t like that.’
The white outline moved. Things rising up underneath it, bubbling.
Rebecca felt them. She said, ‘I know the stuff he did. Obviously I know he wasn’t perfect. But he wasn’t like the rest of them.’
A raw choke that could have been a laugh, out of Julia.
‘Lenie. He wasn’t. Was he?’
Selena moved. She said, ‘He was a lot of things.’
‘Lenie.’
They had forgotten me. Selena said, ‘He wanted not to be like them. He tried really hard. I don’t know how much it worked.’
‘It did.’ Rebecca’s voice was spiralling towards panic. ‘It worked.’
That ugly twist of sound again, from Julia.
‘It did. It did.’
Something crunched behind me, a branch whipped. Something was happening. I couldn’t tell what, couldn’t afford to turn. Had to trust Conway and keep going.
I said, ‘So how come you were scared of his ghost? Why would it want to hurt you, if Chris never would’ve?’
Julia said, ‘Specially since it’s not fucking real. Becca? Hello? They made you imagine it like some Omen thing. If you decide to imagine it as a purple turtle instead, then that’s what you’ll see. Hello?’
‘Hello yourself, I saw him—’
‘Rebecca. Why would it want to hurt you?’
