The image Kate couldn’t get out of her mind was the school photograph of Caroline Devine, the photograph her parents had given to the gardaí. What struck Kate most was the girl’s smile. It was one of those large, unthinking smiles that children gave and it was, according to O’Connor, the clearest image Caroline’s parents had of her. They must have prayed someone would recognise their bright shining daughter and bring her back, but Caroline had not come back, at least not in the way her parents had hoped.
In the photograph, the girl’s blonde curls were held back by a narrow hairband, revealing tiny stud earrings, which reminded Kate of a pair she’d worn at that age. She could still remember being twelve, self-conscious, aware of her body changing, her parents not quite knowing what to do with her any more. Had Caroline felt self-conscious, no longer a child but not yet a woman? The few months since that school photograph must have changed things. The development of her body, visible in the mountain grave, meant Caroline had begun adolescence, newly formed sexuality like an undercurrent waiting to settle.
What had happened to her in the hours before her death? What, other than terror, had gone through her mind? Kate was familiar with the area, it was remote and if the burial had happened at night, considering the heavy rain and cloud cover at the time, visibility would have been difficult, giving all the privacy needed. The killer had taken great care to bury his victim, and she wondered whether it was an area he, too, was familiar with. She knew the age of the girl was going to make this case more difficult than most. The death of a young victim had a habit of elevating emotions. No matter what had led the killer to this point, Kate hoped she was right in her prediction to O’Connor. Either way, Caroline’s killer had crossed a line, and was only too capable of killing again.
≈
When she turned the key in the front door, Kate was surprised that Declan and Charlie still weren’t home. She checked her phone for messages. Just one, from Declan: ‘Got delayed, we’re grabbing McDonald’s.’ She managed to smile at this. If nothing else, her preference for correct spelling in text messages had finally rubbed off on her husband. As she showered, her mind went back to the murder. What if the girl’s body had never been found? Had that been the killer’s intention? If so, why take so much care to position a corpse he didn’t want to be discovered? She thought about the close-up shots of the girl in the grave. Her hands with all her fingers interlinked, clasped together, her hair braided carefully into two plaits lying neatly on her chest. The plaited hair, just like the body, seemed to be placed in a very particular way. Everything about the girl looking tidy, arranged.
Getting dressed after her shower, she thought about something else that had been bothering her. The stud earrings Caroline had worn to school that morning. According to O’Connor, they had been removed, yet her silver chain with the cross on it hadn’t. Why? Had the killer wanted to keep something of her, a memento of sorts? Why take the earrings and not the silver cross? Then there were the ribbons, tied in two large bows, old-fashioned as she had mentioned to O’Connor. If Caroline was unconscious from the blows, the killer had plaited her hair, and if the ribbons were left with the victim, then just like the positioning of the body, there was a reason for them looking the way they did. The more Kate thought about the images, the stronger her belief became that whoever buried Caroline Devine had demonstrated an unusual level of care and detail towards his victim. The girl herself was important, and how she lay and every detail about it meant something too, even if the killer hadn’t wanted her to be found.
There was the click of a key turning in a lock and her son’s excited voice ended her thoughts about Caroline Devine.
‘Mom, Mom, where are you?’
He burst into the room and raced over to her. She smiled the first genuine smile of the day.
‘Look, Mom,’ he beamed, holding up a miniature Gutsy Smurf toy. ‘Daddy got me a Happy Meal.’
‘I can see that.’
Declan looked tired, his face strained – a look she had become all too familiar with recently. He smiled at Charlie, then glanced at her, before turning away again. Was he purposely avoiding eye contact with her? She hadn’t meant to appear angry, but she must have done.
‘There’s no need to look like that Kate, we were both starving.’
Charlie bounced up and down on the couch, delighted with life.
‘Anyhow, I don’t smell any home cooking.’ The tone in Declan’s voice was as strained as his expression.
Why the hell, in the twenty-first century, do men still think it’s a woman’s duty to make the bloody dinner? She knew it was a jibe at her, just like most of their conversations seemed to be these days. But it was easier to let it go, for Charlie’s sake.
‘I know, Dec, I just got tied up with things.’
‘Nothing new there.’
She wanted to snap back at him, but there was no point. It would only end up the way all their arguments had ended up over the past six months, right back at the beginning. Ever since he missed out on that promotion, it was as if everything that went wrong was her fault. Although all the extra hours she was putting in with her new responsibilities heading up the project team hadn’t helped.