Quick spark, the impatient Holly I knew, through all that demure. ‘Secrets are secret. That’s the point. And no way is it totally anonymous, not if someone really wants to track you down. Half the cards up there, everyone knows who they are.’
Daddy’s daughter: watch your back, always. ‘So who do you think put up this card?’
Holly said, ‘You’ve narrowed it down to us and Joanne’s lot.’
‘Say we have. Who would you guess?’
She thought, or pretended to. ‘Well. It obviously wasn’t me or my friends, or I’d have told you already.’
‘You sure you’d know?’
Spark. ‘Yes, I’m sure. OK?’
‘Fair enough. Which of the others would you bet on?’
‘It’s not Joanne, because she’d have made a total incredible drama out of the whole thing – probably she’d have fainted in Assembly and you’d have had to go talk to her in her hospital bed, or whatever. And Orla’s way too stupid to think of this. So that leaves Gemma and Alison. If I have to guess . . .’
She was loosening, the longer we talked. Conway was staying well out, head down. I said, ‘Go for it.’
‘Well. OK. Gemma thinks her and Joanne run the universe. If she knew something, she probably wouldn’t tell you at all, but if she did, it’d be straight out. With her dad sitting in – he’s a solicitor. So I’d guess Alison. She’s scared of basically everything; if she knew something, she’d never have the guts to go straight to you.’
Holly snatched a glance at Conway, made sure she was writing this down. ‘Or,’ she said. ‘Probably you’ve thought of this. But someone could have got one of Joanne’s gang to put that card up for her.’
‘Would they do it?’
‘Joanne wouldn’t. Or Gemma. Orla totally would, but she’d tell Joanne before she even did it. Alison might. If she did, though,’ Holly added, ‘she won’t tell you.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because. Joanne would be way pissed off if she found out Alison had put up that card and not told her. So she won’t let on.’
This was giving me the head-staggers, keeping it straight who would do what to who if which. Fair play to teenage girls; I’d never have been able for it.
Conway said, ‘If she put it up, we’ll find out.’
Holly nodded gravely. All faith in the big brave detectives, coming along to make everything OK.
I said, ‘What about Chris’s death? Who would you guess was responsible for that?’
I was waiting for the prank-gone-bad story, rattled off nice and neat with Holly’s own fancy twirls on top. Instead she said, ‘I don’t know.’
The clamp of frustration said it was true. ‘Not Colm’s guys messing about, and it went wrong?’
‘I know some people think that. But that would’ve probably been a whole bunch of them, and I’m sorry, at least three or four guys managing to keep their mouths shut and keep their stories straight and not slip up even once? I don’t think so.’ Holly’s eyes went to Conway. She said, ‘Not if you questioned them the way you questioned us.’
I lifted the photo. Said, ‘Someone managed to keep her mouth shut this long.’
That spark of irritation again. ‘Everyone thinks girls blab everything, yap yap yap, like idiots. That’s total crap. Girls keep secrets. Guys are the ones who can’t keep their mouths shut.’
‘There’s a lot of girls blabbing on the Secret Place.’
‘Yeah, and if it wasn’t there, they wouldn’t blab. That’s what it’s for: to get us spilling our guts.’ A glance at Houlihan. Sweetly: ‘I’m sure it’s very valuable in lots of ways.’
I said, ‘Pick one thing to tell me about Chris. Something important.’
I saw the breath lift Holly’s chest, like she was bracing herself. She said, clear and cool, ‘He was a prick.’
Protest noise from Houlihan. No one cared.
I said, ‘You know I’m going to need more detail on that one.’
‘He only cared about what he wanted. Most of the time that was fine, because what he wanted was for everyone in the world to like him, so he was all about being nice. But sometimes, like when he could make everyone laugh by slagging off someone who wasn’t important? Or when he wanted something and he couldn’t get it?’ Holly shook her head. ‘Not so nice.’
‘Give me an example.’
She thought, choosing. ‘OK,’ she said. Still cool, but an underline like anger in her voice. ‘This one time, a load of us were down at the Court, us and some Colm’s guys. We’re in line at this café, and this girl Elaine orders the last chocolate muffin, right? Chris is behind her, and he goes, “Hey, I’m having that,” and Elaine’s like, “Uh-uh, too slow.” And Chris goes, loud, so everyone can hear him, “Your arse doesn’t need any more muffins.” All the guys start laughing. Elaine goes scarlet, and Chris pokes her in the arse and goes, “You’ve got enough muffins in there to start your own bakery. Can I have a bite?” Elaine just turns around and practically runs out of the place. The guys are all yelling after her, “Shake it, baby! Work the wobble!” and everyone’s laughing.’
Going by what Conway had said, this was the first time anyone had talked about Chris anything like this. I said, ‘Lovely.’
‘Right? Elaine wouldn’t go anywhere she might see Colm’s guys for, like, weeks, and I think she’s still on a diet – and just by the way, she wasn’t even fat to begin with. And the thing is, Chris didn’t need to do that. I mean, it was just a muffin, it wasn’t the last tickets to the rugby World Cup final. But Chris thought Elaine should’ve backed down the second he wanted it. So when she didn’t’ – twist of Holly’s mouth – ‘he punished her. Like he figured she deserved.’
I said, ‘Elaine what?’
A beat, but it was easy to check. ‘Heaney.’
‘Anyone else Chris was a prick to?’
Shrug. ‘It’s not like I was taking notes. Maybe most people didn’t notice it, because like I said, it was only sometimes, and mostly he made people laugh doing it. He made it seem like just messing, just fun. But Elaine noticed. And anyone else he did it to, I bet they noticed.’
Conway said, ‘Last year you didn’t say Chris was a prick. You said you hardly knew him but he seemed like an OK guy.’
Holly examined that. Said, picking her words, ‘I was younger then. Everyone thought Chris was nice, so I figured probably he was. I didn’t really get what he was doing, till later.’
Lie: the lie Conway had been waiting for.
Conway pointed at the photo in my hand. ‘So why’d you bring us this? If Chris was such a prick, why do you give a damn if whoever killed him gets caught?’
Good-girl gaze. ‘My dad’s a detective. He’d want me to do the right thing. Whether I liked Chris or not.’
Lie again. I know Holly’s da. Doing the good-boy thing for its own sake isn’t on his horizon. He never did anything in his life without an agenda.
Got fuck-all out of her, Conway had said. Like pulling teeth. Last year, Holly hadn’t wanted the killer caught, or hadn’t cared enough to stick her neck out. This year, she cared. I needed to find why.
‘Holly,’ I said. Leaned forward, close, held her eyes: It’s me, talk to me. ‘There’s a reason why you’re so into getting this solved, all of a sudden. You need to tell me what it is. You have to know from your da: anything like that could help us out, even if you don’t see how.’