Darkhouse (32 page)

‘Yes,’ said Frank. ‘Uh, Siobhán Fallon.’

‘That’s the one. Can you check the photo and give me the distinguishing features bit?’

‘Well, we have large mole on left shoulder, pierced navel, three gold hoops in right ear.’

Joe felt a surge of heat to his face. Nausea swept over him. Then anger. Then rage.

He managed to thank Frank and hang up before he asked any questions.

Frank turned to Richie. ‘I’ve just had the strangest phone call. Joe Lucchesi wanting to know the
distinguishing features on that Fallon girl.’ He pointed to the missing person poster. He frowned. ‘Can you explain that?’

Shaun came home for lunch and didn’t want to go back to school. He was hoping Anna would be there but the house was empty and cold. He sat in the kitchen, too numb to fix something to eat. He looked up when the doorbell rang. There was no way he could answer it. He was under orders. It rang again. Then someone knocked loudly on the door.

‘Mrs Lucchesi?’ He spoke in a thick Dublin accent and was pronouncing the name Le Chessy. Shaun moved towards the voice, debating what to do. He could see a man standing at the glass by the front door. He was waving a clipboard and pointing at it. Shaun almost laughed. There was no way this chubby delivery man was anything other than harmless.

Shaun slid open the door. ‘I’m here with your balloons,’ said the man.

Shaun looked shocked.

‘Jaysus,’ said the man, looking at his clipboard. ‘You’re not the bloke the surprise is for, are you?’ He read his sheet. ‘Oh no, you’re not.’ He glanced at Shaun. ‘You definitely don’t look forty to me.’ He laughed.

‘Uh yeah, it’s my dad. They’re for him.’

‘I hope you’re not going to look that miserable
when you’re giving them to him.’ The man laughed and Shaun thought again how strange it was that life for everyone else goes on, no matter what is happening in yours.

‘Are these paid for?’ he managed to ask.

‘Luckily for you they are,’ said the man, ‘judging by the panic on your face there. Don’t worry, your mother covered it.’

‘Is she here?’ asked Shaun, excited. He craned his neck around the porch to look down the lane.

The man frowned. ‘Eh, no. It was by credit card, over the phone.’

‘Today?’ asked Shaun, his eyes wide.

‘No,’ said the man. ‘Last week.’

‘Oh,’ said Shaun.

‘You must be very close,’ said the man, frowning. He nodded to the van. ‘Where do you want them?’

Shaun looked around as if he’d find his answer in the trees.

‘The lighthouse over there,’ he pointed.

The man contemplated the walk. ‘Eh, I think you can handle it yourself, bud. There aren’t that many.’ He went out to the van and grabbed three clear plastic covers, tied in a knot at the bottom, each one covering a bunch of five helium balloons. They were weighted down with a small navy balloon filled with sand.
Happy 40th
was written across them.

‘Thanks,’ said Shaun.

‘Hey?’ said the guy as he walked away. ‘Cheer up!’

‘Your wife lied to me,’ said Duke. Joe could hear a loud slap down the phone line. ‘So I taught her a lesson.’ Slap. ‘Your wife tried to tell me she was leaving you, so’s I wouldn’t hurt little Shaun.’ Slap. ‘Your wife insulted my intelligence.’ A final slap.

Joe’s tone plunged ice-cold. ‘Enough about
my
wife, Rawlins. Let’s talk about
your
s.’

Stinger’s Creek, North Central Texas, 1991

‘You look mighty pretty,’ said Vincent Farraday. ‘Let me take your hand.’ Wanda Rawlins was wearing a lilac suit with a pencil skirt to her knee, white stockings and white court shoes. She bent low as she stepped out of the car, holding her lilac hat against the breeze.

She looked around at the small clapboard church and the arch of white roses at the entrance.

‘It’s so beautiful, Vince,’ she said, patting the corners of her eyes with a lace handkerchief. ‘It’s like I’m seeing things I’ve never seen before.’

‘Hush now, little lady,’ said Vincent. ‘You just enjoy this day. Forget about all the bad stuff.’

‘I’ll try,’ she said.

Reverend Ellis stepped through the arch into the sun, shielding his eyes with a mass booklet. He waved it at Wanda and walked down towards her.

‘Wanda Rawlins, it must be two years. Welcome home,’ he said, gripping her hand. ‘I am so glad to see you looking so well.’ His smile was warm and sincere. ‘I hope this isn’t just a fleeting visit.’

‘’Fraid so, Reverend. We’re livin’ in Denison now.’

‘This must be the lucky man,’ he said, pumping Vince’s hand.

‘Yessir. Vincent Farraday’s my name. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.’

‘You’re very welcome to Stinger’s Creek. Now, please excuse me as I go find the groom.’

Duke sat hunched outside the back of the church, smoking a cigarette.

‘Mr Rawlins, how’re you doin’ on this happy day?’

‘Fine thank you, Reverend,’ said Duke, standing up. ‘My suit’s a half-size too small,’ he added, touching the tight navy velvet. He noticed flecks of ash on his ruffled shirt front and flicked them into the breeze.

‘I’m sure Samantha won’t notice,’ said the Reverend.

‘No-one’ll be lookin’ at me,’ smiled Duke. ‘This day is for Sammi.’

Reverend Ellis led Duke through the back door of the church and out onto the altar. Duke inhaled sharply when he saw his mother in the front pew. She gave him a small wave and a nervous smile. He walked over to her.

‘Mama,’ he said. ‘How did you know?’

‘Sammi’s mama’s sister’s in my church in Denison…’

‘You go to church?’

Wanda blushed.

‘You live in Denison?’ he said.

‘This is my husband, Vincent,’ said Wanda. ‘He helped me through my, you know—’

Duke could see the guilt and fear in her eyes, the brittle smile on her filled-out face and wondered without drugs, how she could live every day knowing what she knew. He smiled and shook Vincent’s hand. The man gave him a broad grin.

‘Pleasure, son, happy to be here today.’

‘Thank you,’ said Duke and he took his place at the altar. He checked his watch and looked around. Reverend Ellis walked over to him. ‘I’m afraid I just got a call from Donald,’ he said. ‘He’s stuck behind an accident on the interstate. He won’t be able to make it. He did say you had the rings, though, and to go ahead without him. He should make it to the reception.’

Duke shook his head. He looked around the church for a replacement. The guests were mainly from Sammi’s side of the family. The only person he could ask was Vincent. He gestured him over.

Suddenly, the music started and the double doors at the back of the church opened. Sammi’s father walked in with Sammi to his right, her small hand on his forearm. Her brown hair was permed
and glossy, falling below her shoulders, swept high in front and held with a clip from her long veil. Her gown sparkled with tiny beads. Her father passed her over to Duke and shook his hand. His smile was tight.

When the service was over, the guests moved across the street to The Railroad Bar, a tongue-in-cheek name in a town that was bypassed by the railroad in the eighteen hundreds and hadn’t recovered since.

The dance floor was small and couples pressed against each other to fit on the wooden circle. The women wore tight satin dresses edged in lace and stretched across full stomachs, their high heels tipping them to one side. The men were in narrow-legged suits or dressed-up cowboy shirts and starched denim. They drank beer, chased it with whisky and shouted at the band. Duke stood at the edge of the dance floor watching his new wife swaying her hips to the music, her head back, her eyes closed.

‘You OK?’ she said as she danced over to him, pinching his cheeks and kissing him on the lips.

‘Course I am,’ he said. ‘I guess I’m just a little sad Uncle Bill isn’t here today to see all this.’

‘I know, sweetheart. He sounds like he was the nicest man. I wish I coulda met him.’

‘I wish you coulda too,’ said Duke. ‘You know somethin’, Sammi, you are the prettiest bride in
the whole world. And I promise to be faithful to you for the rest of my life. I know I’ve made some mistakes, but one thing I know, if someone means somethin’ to me as much as you do, loyalty’s what I give. I’m sure of that.’ His words were beginning to slur.

‘Don’t you get drunk on me tonight,’ she said.

‘No, ma’am,’ said Duke.

‘I want you standin’ to attention.’ She smiled and raised her eyebrows.

Duke frowned.

‘Shut up, Sammi,’ he said.

‘Not today,’ she said. ‘Don’t speak to me like that today. We had a deal.’

‘OK,’ he said. ‘Just don’t go on at me.’

‘I won’t, long as you don’t get drunk. I’ll be keepin’ an eye on you and Donnie, whenever he shows up.’

Wanda leaned against the sink, her face tilted to the light above the mirror.

‘That the kinda powder you’re into these days?’ came a voice beside her. Wanda said nothing.

‘I’m talkin’ to you!’

‘I’m not interested, Darla,’ said Wanda, putting her compact back in her bag.

‘Think you’re all respectable now in your fancy suit with your big husband?’

‘I said I’m not interested,’ said Wanda calmly.

‘You white trash whore.’

Wanda spun around and grabbed Darla by the hair, pulling her up tall. Then she leaned back and spat in her startled face, watching the saliva drip from her eyelids.

‘Don’t,’ said Wanda, pointing a finger at her. ‘This is my son’s wedding.’ She threw Darla’s head back against the door, washed her hands and left the bathroom.

‘Like you give a good goddamn,’ Darla shouted after her.

Donnie walked into the bar and raised his arms.

‘Well, look who it is!’ said Duke. ‘You missed my big moment!’ He smiled wide.

‘Congratulations,’ said Donnie, shaking Duke’s hand and patting his back. ‘Did I miss much?’

‘Where in the hell did you get to?’ hissed Duke, grabbing his elbow, leaning in close to his ear.

‘Officially? In back of a line of cars,’ said Donnie. ‘Unofficially? Had that bit of business to take care of…you know, hide and seek in the woods.’ He winked. ‘Gave an extra little whoosh with the shovel too. Oh, I remember – Tally was her name.’

Duke looked at him like he didn’t care.

Sammi came up and tapped him on the shoulder.

‘Hey, Donnie,’ she said.

‘Little Mrs Rawlins,’ he said, swinging her around. ‘Married at nineteen, pregnant at twenty?’

‘Don’t even joke about that,’ said Sammi, skipping over to her bridesmaids.

‘Bring one back for me,’ he called after her. She waved back. He went to the bar.

‘I had to choose,’ said Wanda, coming up behind Duke. ‘And it broke my heart.’

Duke turned and stared at her.

‘Choose between you and Vincent,’ she explained. ‘It was the hardest thing a mother’s ever had to do. I guess I figured you’d be all growed up and you wouldn’t need your mama no more.’

‘You’re right about that,’ said Duke. ‘But you’re wrong about one thing. You didn’t choose Vincent, Mama. All you ever chose was you.’

Donnie grabbed the bridesmaid’s waist and swung her around him as he made his way back over to Duke.

‘She wanted me,’ he said.

‘Sure,’ said Duke. ‘And thanks for lookin’ after everythin’. I shouldn’t have been mad…’

‘Hey,’ said Donnie. ‘Who’s that in the blue shirt and the cowboy hat? Ain’t that Vincent Farraday, the singer? Who’s the lady with him in the purple suit?’

‘Pretty fuckin’ Woman,’ said Duke.

‘Rumour has it that Sammi Rawlins has been having a few jobs done around the house…’

Joe let it hang there.

‘What do you mean jobs?’ said Duke.

‘Oh you know, hand jobs, blow jobs…’

‘If you’re tryin’ to tell me my wife’s a ho, I know you’re bullshittin’ me.’

‘Who said anything about ho? Your wife has been one hundred per cent faithful to one man since you’ve been in jail. It’s just a shame it wasn’t you.’

‘You’re talkin’ shit.’

‘Aw, I haven’t even come to the best part yet,’ said Joe. ‘Don’t you want to know who the guy is? Come on, I’d wanna know, if it was me. Have you seen your wife since you’ve been out?’

‘She’s at her mother’s…look why am I talkin’ to you? Why am I listenin’ to you and your bullshit?’

‘Face it, Rawlins. Your wife’s been bending over for another man while you’ve been in prison, one hand on your—

‘Are you fuckin’ de-ranged?’ Duke suddenly roared. ‘You think I believe a single shit-drippin’ word out of your mouth? You’re a cop! And you’re a cop who can shut the fuck up right now. One more word and I’ll kill your wife. Are you nuts?’

Joe’s heart pounded. All he had succeeded in doing was rattling this psycho off his hinges.

D.I. O’Connor stood in front of the room.

‘I’m fed up,’ he said. ‘For some reason, these dealers are a step ahead of us. We show up, they don’t. They don’t show up, we do.’ He looked around the room and saw a group of bored and tired guards.

‘Wake fucking up!’ he roared. Some of the men jumped. O’Connor shook his head.

‘Jesus Christ, lads! What are you like?’ The men shifted in their seats.

‘What happens,’ said O’Connor, ‘when your plan doesn’t work? What do people do? Owens?’

‘Uh, change the plan?’

‘Scrap the whole thing and come up with a new plan,’ came a voice from the back.

‘Or?’ said O’Connor, smiling, ‘just don’t have a plan.’ They looked at him blankly.

‘I want you all to think for a minute about surprises. In the next ten minutes I want three
places in town that each team is going to go to at some stage today in the hope of catching one of these scumbags at work. No major plan here, just the name of a place and two of you in a car outside it. Butler, you’re with Twomey.’ There was a clatter of chairs on tiles as the men got up and headed outside to their cars.

As he put down the phone to Duke Rawlins, Joe heard the rumble of voices downstairs.

‘Hello? Who’s down there?’ he said, walking into the hall, leaning into the door of Shaun’s bedroom.

He could hear Shaun jogging up the steps. He opened the door a crack.

‘Me,’ said Shaun, irritated. ‘And Ali. Why?’

‘I didn’t tell you you could bring anyone home.’

‘I haven’t told her about Mom, if that’s what you mean.’

‘Send her home now.’

‘What is wrong with you?’

‘Just get her out of here,’ hissed Joe.

Shaun gave a start. ‘OK, OK.’

He ran back down the steps. Joe paced up and down the living room. He heard Ali walk through the hall.

‘Hey, Mr Lucchesi,’ she shouted in.

‘Where are you going?’ asked Joe.

Shaun stood behind Ali and stared at his dad as if he had lost his mind.

‘She’s going home?’ he said.

‘On your own?’ said Joe, turning to Ali.

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I’m a big girl now.’ She smiled.

‘Shaun, come here a minute,’ said Joe.

‘Hold on,’ said Shaun, leaving Ali in the hall.

Joe grabbed Shaun’s elbow, then felt him jerk hard from his grip. His voice was low and urgent as he handed Shaun the phone. ‘You put her on this phone to her father and get him to pick her up right outside that door. And you wait until he does that.’

‘What’s going on?’ said Shaun, panic creeping in to his voice.

‘Just do it,’ said Joe.

Ali made the call and stuck her head into the living room.

‘Frank Deegan was on his way here,’ she said. ‘So Dad asked him to take me home. He’ll be here any minute.’

Joe wanted to explode. The last thing he needed anyone to see outside his house was a garda car.

He stood up quickly. ‘I’ll give you a ride.’

‘No, you’re grand,’ said Ali. ‘I couldn’t drag you out of your way. Honest to God, Frank’s on his way. I’ll be fine.’

‘It’s not a problem.’

‘I want to play her one more track on my CD,’ said Shaun, pulling her towards the basement.

Joe sat back down and put his head in his hands. He stayed that way until the doorbell rang.

‘Hello, Joe,’ said Frank. He handed him a card in a blue envelope. ‘I met the postman on the way in.’ Joe recognised Danny’s writing.

‘Could I come in for a chat?’ said Frank.

‘Uh, not really. I haven’t got the time right now. I’ve got a lot on.’ His eyes flicked around, past Frank into the trees.

‘You don’t really have much of a choice, Joe. It’s about the fax you brought to Dr McClatchie.’

Joe felt a wave of anger at the betrayal.

‘It’s not a problem, the fact that you did that,’ said Frank. ‘I just need to see it. Dr McClatchie has some concerns.’ Joe could see that Frank had a police sketch in his hand and the mug shot of Duke.

‘I don’t have it. It’s in the garbage.’

‘Sorry. I think you do. Can I come in?’

‘All right,’ snapped Joe, hustling Frank into the hall and closing the door quickly behind him.

‘I don’t have time for this.’

‘Neither do I,’ said Frank. ‘I’m on my way to a meeting in Limerick and I need to see it. I’ve doubted you before about this Rawlins man. I’m letting you know now that I’ve changed my mind. I’m going out on a limb, here. I haven’t run this by my superiors, because I need to make sure I’ve everything tied up before I do.’

Joe felt the urge to shake Frank by his shoulders and roar at him, ‘It’s too little, too late.’ He went to the den and got the fax. He folded it up and put it in a brown envelope. He steadied
himself on the desk as a sharp pain sliced a path between his temples. He pulled open the desk drawer and saw an empty bottle of Advil. He shut the drawer quickly. Even if there had been twenty tablets in there, he had promised himself that until this was over, he wouldn’t take any medication…unless the pain was extreme.

He saw Danny’s card on the desk and ripped it open in case it was important. It was a print of The Scream by Munch. Joe shook his head and tried to smile. Inside it said, ‘Remind you of anyone? Happy fortieth, partner. Have a good one.’ Joe wished he could.

‘Here,’ he said when he came down, handing Frank the fax. ‘Put it in your inside pocket now.’

Frank frowned. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Why?’

‘Doesn’t matter. Is that everything?’

‘No. I need to speak with Anna.’

‘Oh. She’s in Paris, sorry.’

Frank shook his head. ‘Do you have a number where I could contact her?’

‘No,’ said Joe. ‘Her parents don’t have a phone.’

‘Really? Well, I might as well tell you that she saw this mug shot. She was in the house with Nora the other day. She had a very bad reaction. It was as if—’

Joe’s heart pounded. ‘I hadn’t told her I was checking things out,’ he said quickly. ‘She was annoyed with me for not telling her. That’s why she’s gone to Paris.’

‘Tell me why you phoned me about Siobhán Fallon,’ Frank said suddenly. ‘Have you seen her?’

‘No. But I thought I might have the other day.’

‘Where?’

‘In town. But it wasn’t her. Frank, I really can’t hang around talking.’ He pressed his hand to his jaw. Frank turned around and opened the front door.

‘I’ll send Ali out to you.’

‘Right, so. Thanks for the fax, Joe. I appreciate that.’ He stepped outside, then looked back. ‘What I don’t appreciate is being lied to.’

Oran Butler and Keith Twomey sat in their Ford Mondeo in the car park of Tobin’s Supermarket. It was a grim, red-brick building in a bad neighbourhood. Two fat butchers in bloodied aprons stood at a corner, gunning cigarettes. A group of longhaired boys in baggy pants and big sweatshirts skateboarded by them along the smooth concrete.

‘How long have we been here?’ asked Oran, picking toffee out of his teeth. A pile of empty wrappers were gathered between his legs.

‘Two hours,’ said Keith.

‘Have you seen
one
of them actually complete a trick?’

‘Nope,’ said Keith as they watched another skateboarder try to jump onto a railing. He stumbled down the steps instead, his board smacking onto the tarmac.

‘The fucking noise is going through me,’ said Keith.

Oran swept the sweet wrappers onto the floor and started on a new pile. Keith glanced down.

‘Of all the people to be sharing a place with Richie Bates, it’s the messiest fucker around. I don’t know which one of you to feel sorrier for.’

Another skateboarder flipped his board halfway over, then landed with his feet on the ground at either side.

The two men looked at each other and shook their heads. When they looked back, a man was walking past the boys towards the entrance. He moved jerkily, like his joints were popping in and out of their sockets with each step. He led with his chin, his narrow mouth downturned, his eyes like slits. He smoothed his greasy red Caesar forward onto his zitty forehead and slowed as he approached the eldest of the boys.

‘I don’t believe it,’ said Keith, sitting up. ‘Let’s see what happens here. That’s Marcus Canney, total scumbag.’

They watched as Canney spoke, then reached into his pocket, pulling something out, extending his arm towards the boy, giving him more than a handshake. Oran and Keith bolted and were on the pair in seconds.

Joe spoke before Duke could – as soon as he hit the green button to answer the call.

‘Why are you doing this?’

‘You know why,’ said Duke.

‘OK, yeah, I do. But you’ve got it all wrong, buddy. I need you to take in some new information, see if you still want to do what you came all this way to do.’

‘This is not a dialogue situation.’

‘But two people work better for you, Rawlins, don’t they?’

‘What the fuck are you talkin’ about?’

‘Two on one makes it a bit easier?’

He could hear Duke’s breathing, slow and laboured.

‘I notice things,’ said Joe. ‘I have eyes…like a hawk.’

Duke said nothing.

‘I know what you were doing today,’ said Joe, ‘and I pity that girl you’ve found to shovel your shit. But, then you wouldn’t be able to do it on your own…’ He paused. ‘You think you’re a man? You’re nothing but a piece of shit, a cowardly piece of shit.’

‘Fuck you,’ said Duke. ‘You know nothin’.’

‘You’re wrong. Here’s one thing I know for sure: Mrs Duke Rawlins is with the Stinger’s Creek police department right now making some pretty serious allegations against you.’

Duke snorted. ‘BullSHIT. Now I KNOW you’re talkin’ bullshit.’

‘You might remember some murders a while
back,’ said Joe, slipping into the same patterns of speech as Duke, using the same trick he used with junkies and hookers.

‘Turns out,’ said Joe, ‘your wife’s telling whoever’s gonna listen that you’re the guy they should be looking for. The Crosscut Killer. One guy. Just you. That she covered your ass for too long.’

Duke said nothing.

‘Now, why would your wife suddenly want you locked up when you’ve just gotten out?’ said Joe. ‘Maybe so’s you won’t come after her and kill her for banging your friend.’ He waited a beat. ‘It was Donnie, Duke. Your wife was fucking Donnie.’

Duke laughed loud and hard.

‘I’ve got proof,’ said Joe quickly. When Duke didn’t stop him, he continued, ‘The name Rawlins was familiar to me because your wife was there the day Donnie died. She was a witness at the wrong side of a police cordon. She had to give her name. She was searched. She had a passport. Bet you didn’t know your wife had a passport. She was there to help Donnie—’

‘What proof?’

‘The case file. Her name is on it. I have it here.’

‘Show me a look at that,’ said Duke.

‘Show
me
a look at my wife.’

As soon as he put down the phone, Joe sensed something behind him in the room. He turned his head slowly. Shaun stood, shaken and pale, in the doorway.

Joe stared at him. ‘How long…’

‘How long what? Could you keep lying to me?’

‘What did you hear?’

‘Where’s Mom? Who were you talking to?’ He fought back tears.

‘I’m taking care of this.’

‘What? Who’s got her? Who’s taken her? Where is she?’

‘You don’t need to know the details.’

‘Did you call the cops?’

Joe waited. ‘No.’

‘Please tell me you are kidding me,’ said Shaun.

‘Of course I’m not,’ snapped Joe. ‘I can’t bring the police into this.’

‘You’re such a hypocrite,’ said Shaun, his voice rising. ‘What’s that rule? If you don’t find them in the first twenty-four hours, forty-eight hours, whatever, it’s a recovery operation, not a rescue?’

Joe shook his head. ‘For Christ’s sake, Shaun.’

‘You make people call the cops all the time.’

‘Maybe that’s not always for the best.’

‘Yeah, if it’s Detective Joe Lucchesi who shows up at your door.’

Joe didn’t rise to it.

‘I’m sorry, Dad.’

‘I know you are.’

A stream of steady tears rolled down Shaun’s cheeks.

‘I’m tired of crying,’ he said. ‘I’m so tired. You pick up that phone, Dad. Pick it up. Pick it up!’
He lunged for it. Joe stepped forward, fighting him for it, holding it high in the air, trying to push him away.

Shaun stumbled back, horrified.

‘I can’t do it,’ said Joe. ‘I’m sorry. I cannot make that call.’

‘How are we going to get her back? What’s going to happen to her? Why Mom? What’s Mom…?’

Joe waited for what was next.

‘Oh my God. This is because of you, isn’t it?’ said Shaun. ‘Someone’s taken her and it’s because of you. No-one would be interested in a mom, but they’d be interested in a cop’s wife, wouldn’t they?’ He stopped. ‘Has this got something to do with Katie?’ He grabbed at Joe’s arm, jerking it back and forth.

‘No, no,’ said Joe. ‘Please calm down, Shaun. Please. I still have things to find out. For now, we can’t let anyone know anything about this, the cops or anyone else. Are you listening to me? It’s very important that we say nothing.’