At first, when he went on his night prowls, he’d gone alone, not wanting to expose Silvia to the sins of the flesh he had witnessed, the way Mother and men had behaved. He wanted to protect her from that. It was only when he’d thought it was safe that he’d brought her with him, when the attention of the bishop to his mother had decreased, and his mother’s mood had deteriorated with it. In the dark, they’d crept through the corridors like shadows, both of them enjoying the secrecy and the heady sense of disobeying the rules. He had not known she would take to wandering alone. If he had, he would have insisted on following her.
Yesterday at Cronly, he had had very little time to spend in his old bedroom, but he had taken out the lock of her hair. He still felt such disappointment thinking about Caroline. She had been exactly how he remembered Silvia. Perhaps Kate would have enjoyed the Castello de Luca. People with sensitivity are so much better equipped to appreciate the delights of the imagination. Silvia, too, had that gift. When he had laid out Caroline, she had looked just like Silvia at first, as beautiful as the last time he’d seen her. He had made a point of everything being perfect, right down to the last detail, from her hair to the ribbons, then laying her body exactly right and resting her head just as he remembered.
Mervin Road
Monday, 10 October 2011, 9.10 a.m.
KATE LEFT HER FIFTH MESSAGE ON DECLAN’S MOBILE. She knew he was due at work in less than half an hour, and the chances of getting him there were slim after he started his Monday morning meetings. Frustrated, the next call she made was to Sophie, confirming that she would pick up Charlie from school, with instructions to put him down for a nap if Kate was still out when the two of them got back home. Kate wasn’t the only one leaving messages. She had already received half a dozen calls from O’Connor, but she wasn’t ready to talk to him yet.
‘Charlie, hurry up in that bedroom. We’re going to be late.’
Kate brushed her hair, tying it back in a tight ponytail. Her eyes looked as if she had spent the previous night lowering double vodkas.
‘Charlie, I’m warning you. Come on.’
‘I can’t find my shoes.’
She flung open the bedroom door, full of tiredness and frustration, but when she saw her son standing there alone, he suddenly looked so small in his blue school uniform that it stopped her in her tracks. She smiled at him.
‘Okay buster, let’s look together.’
Kate took him by the hand. His grip was tight, fingers stretched to hold on to hers. It didn’t take long to find the shoes. She sat him on her knee and pulled up his socks, before putting the shoes on.
‘I’m tying the laces, Mom. I can do it.’
‘Okay – you do the first knot, and I’ll do the second.’
‘But that’s cheating.’
‘No it isn’t, Charlie. It’s sharing.’
Kate checked her phone again – still no messages from Declan.
‘Mom, I can’t find my schoolbag.’
‘It’s in the hall, Charlie, come on, we’re late. You don’t want to upset Mrs Evans.’
‘Pooh to Mrs Evans.’
‘You don’t mean that! Now come on, monkey.’
≈
Kate waved to Charlie through the school gates. The noise and mayhem of a Monday morning in the yard was just one step above organised chaos. It didn’t take long for Mrs Evans to get Charlie’s class together in a line, huddled tight; they looked like a rope in danger of unravelling at any moment. Before Kate walked away, Charlie turned to her again, waving as if he’d just remembered she was still standing there. He gave her one of his biggest smiles before turning away and leaving his home life temporarily behind him.
There was no point putting off phoning O’Connor any longer. He picked up her call, again before it got to the second ring.
‘About time too, Kate.’
‘Good morning, Detective.’
‘I’ve been trying to get through to you all morning.’
‘Hardly, seeing as it’s only 9.30.’
‘Nolan has sent Gunning to Tuscany. He wants him to apply pressure to the Italian police, inject more speed into the answers we’re getting. As of now, he’s landing on Italian soil.’
‘So Nolan is taking the connection seriously?’
‘Call it having a nose for these things, or bloody desperation, but, yeah, he thinks there’s something in it – or if there isn’t, he wants it ruled out before any more time is wasted.’
‘He’s right.’
‘Kate, where are you now?’
‘At Charlie’s school, I’m just leaving.’
‘I’ve been thinking about your theory, about our killer’s progression.’
‘What about it?’
‘Well, I told Nolan about it. He wasn’t exactly jumping up and down with joy.’
‘It’s all about mindset, O’Connor. We’re dealing with psychotic behaviour here. Our killer is driven, probably more driven than you or I.’
‘Speak for yourself, Kate. I’m more than bloody driven right now.’
‘But you’re not delusional, at least not yet. Our guy is fixated on the task in hand. Everything he does, he believes it is utterly necessary. In his perception of things, he may feel that he’s been driven to look for someone else to fulfil his emotional needs. Either way, he is looking forward. There is no other option for him at this point.’
‘Kate, where are you going to now?’