Hard Girls (27 page)

‘Oh, and I can prove it, Lionel, I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t. Now, you listen to me, boy, and you listen good. I was given this information by someone looking into the internet accounts. It seems to me, judging by the emails I have in this envelope, that you were discussed in graphic detail on more than one occasion. So, if I were you, I would think long and hard before you dare to give me any fucking ultimatums. I also think that you should make a point of keeping Patrick’s name out of anything because, unlike me, he can be a vindictive bastard. I am holding your career, your pension, and a prison sentence in my hands, and I won’t hesitate to use any of it. Neither will the young woman who uncovered it all. So do me a favour,
shut the fuck up
, and let us get on with the job in hand.’

Kate threw the envelope on the desk. ‘Keep that for your own personal records, I have plenty of copies.’

Lionel stared at the envelope as if it had been hand-delivered to him by an alien.

‘You’re a ponce, as Patrick always said you were. A fucking parasite who thinks he’s immune to everything around him. Well, you’re not. You’re a bully, a coward and, on top of that, you’re a fucking joke, especially in this station house. Also, the body of your mate Desmond surfaced late last night, so, if you even attempt to get Pat involved with that, I will personally blow you out of the fucking water. All lines of inquiry will ultimately lead back to you, especially if I have anything to do with it. So, remember that, and remember that you have pushed me too far this time.’

Kate stood up then and, as she got to the door, she turned back and faced him. ‘Now, move the press further away, they stopped photographing
you
ages ago, and make sure that Margaret Dole is assigned officially to this case with me and Annie. Unlike you, she has the makings of a good police officer.’

As Kate walked out the door she saw Annie waiting for her. They laughed loudly, aware that the arsehole, as Lionel Dart was unaffectionately called, could hear everything.

Patrick opened his eyes, it was past ten. He could hear the shower running, and he sighed in annoyance. By the time Eve had arrived, he had been half pissed, and he had also been almost incapable of any physical activity. She had cooked him an omelette and chatted to him until he passed out.

He could vaguely remember dragging himself up the stairs to bed and he had, in all honesty, not even realised she had been beside him. He secretly wondered if his behaviour might have put her off ever seeing him again. He soon realised how wrong he was.

She walked into the bedroom provocatively draped in a towel, she really was a good-looking girl. ‘You look for him.’ft to looky better today.’ She was half smiling as she spoke.

‘Well, I don’t fucking feel it. Why don’t you get yourself off home?’

Pat saw the hurt look on her face and felt bad at his words. But the last thing he needed with a marathon hangover was this young woman standing at the end of his bed looking like something from
Spanking Weekly
. She made him feel old, and she made him feel vulnerable. He didn’t want to get up in front of her, didn’t want her to see him in the harsh morning light.

‘Look, love. I ain’t at me best this time of the morning, and if you plus one that with a massive hangover, I think you might just understand how I’m not feeling the friendliest bloke on the planet at this moment in time.’

Eve smiled, and he was impressed at how easily she had recovered herself. She looked serene again, her usual enigmatic self. ‘You look all right to me, Patrick. In fact, you look good enough to eat.’

It was not meant how it had come out, and Eve regretted her words immediately. For the first time ever, she had lost her reserve, her cool. She genuinely liked this man, and not just because of what he could do for her. She respected him, cared for him, and it was the first time in her life where a man had made her feel she wanted something more than just a sexual liaison. She understood, though, that Patrick Kelly was not a man who would be wanting the same thing as her any time in the near future. She wondered how this had happened to her. She never let her guard down, what on earth had caused her to do it with this man?

‘Look, Patrick . . .’

Pat held up his hand in a gesture of quietness. ‘Nothing to say, darling. Now, if you don’t mind, I want to get up.’

He watched sadly as her tight little ass wiggled its way back into the bathroom. He gave her serious Brownie points for her lack of anger, a lesser woman would have smashed him one by now, and he would not have blamed her. This girl had offered him herself, and he had knocked her back, just as well, all things considered. As he pulled on his dressing gown he felt dizzy, and he finally accepted that, once and for all, his days on the Rémy Martin were well and truly over.

He staggered downstairs and caught a glimpse of himself in the large Venetian mirror in his entrance hall. He looked old, old and debauched, in fact. He was not proud of himself, he saw himself for a fool, and an old fool at that. He knew that Kate would have swallowed eventually, all he had needed to do was tell her. What had really upset her was that he had not let her in on the big secret.

The phone rang and he picked it up angrily. ‘What?’

‘It’s me, Pat.’

Hearing Kate’s voice threw him for a few seconds. ‘Hello, Kate.’

Kate could hear the uncertainty in his voice, and knew she was the last person he expected to be hearing from. The knowledge saddened her.

‘It’s just a quick call, Patrick. Desmond surfaced late last night. I’ve already smoothed it over with Lionel, no one will be asking you too much about it. It’s over with. Finished and done.’

Pat knew how hard this call would be for Kate, and he knew how hard it would have been for her to go against the grain and help him out in a sticky situation like this one. The O’Learys would be eternally grateful as well, they would assume it was their nearest and dearest to her a big partgo forgotten because of him. Naturally, he was willing to let them think just that. As always, Patrick was first and foremost a businessman.

‘Thanks, Kate.’

Kate heard the affection in Pat’s voice, and it was all too much for her. After not speaking to him for so long, hearing him now was getting to her. ‘What are friends for?’

As he went to answer, Eve bounded down the stairs calling gaily, ‘You got that coffee on yet?’

If Patrick had possessed a shotgun at that moment in time, he knew he would have aimed it at Eve and blown her away without a second’s thought. Just to shut her up.

As Pat looked at the receiver in his hand, as he realised that Kate had rung off, he turned to Eve and said, ‘Did no one ever teach you fucking manners? I was on the phone. I was talking to someone important.’

Eve was shocked, but also unsure what exactly she had done to warrant Pat’s fury.

Patrick saw the stricken look on her lovely face and immediately felt ashamed of his outburst. He knew he was being rude, boorish, all the things he despised in lesser men. He put the phone down and, smiling sadly, he said with brutal honesty, ‘Look, love, it’s been great and all that, but I can’t do this any more. You are
too
young,
too
energetic and far too fucking good-looking for the likes of me. And, if it’s all right with you, I prefer to drink my coffee alone in the mornings.’

Eve was aware that she was being royal#8217;s standa

ly outed and the way he had done it annoyed her. Patrick’s arrogance was legendary and she saw now why he was a legend in his own lunchtime.

‘Look, Pat. You’re a nice bloke, but a bit too long in the tooth for me, if truth be told. It was a bit of fun, and now it’s over. I’m sure I’ll recover from the devastating shock in a few hours. If yomind, you can shove your coffee right up your arse.’

As Eve clattered across the marble entrance hall Pat felt the urge to cry. Kate had done all that for him, and he knew just how hard it would have been for her to face Dart and his supercilious smile. And now she believed she had already been replaced in his affections. He knew he had to see her, and see her soon. She would probably blow him off liu don’t

Book Three

Chains do not hold a marriage together. It is threads, hundreds of tiny threads which sew people together through the years. That’s what makes a marriage last - more than passion or even sex!

Simone Signoret, 1921-85

Chapter Fifteen

‘How come he’s not on our radar?’

Margaret was amazed that James Delacroix was not in the system anywhere. He had gone berserk in the library and it had taken four uniforms to restrain him. He had then literally been dragged from the building, shouting to anyone who cared to listen about the police working for government agencies and trying to stop him from writing the truth. All he had against him were two minor offences, many years previously, for being drunk and disorderly as a teenager.

He was under the local psychiatric facility’s care for schizophrenia. According to his doctor, he could go for weeks without any delusions. But when he had them he believed he was invincible and that there were dark forces at work trying to stop him from achieving his true potential. The government were extraterrestrials, and Steven Spielberg was working with them to take over the world. The doctor also explained that James’s aggression would almost certainly be directed at the female gender, men seemed to intimidate him. His only living relative was a sister who wanted nothing to do with him and, as he seemed to find her presence as abhorrent as she found his, they didn’t meet up unless by accident.

James Delacroix was very ill, anyone could see that, and Kate felt sorry for him having to live a life that was so blighted as to be no kind of life at all. Paranoia, what a dreadful affliction.

As Kate observed him pacing the interview room, counting the steps and then, after every eighth step, spinning around as if he was at a disco-dancing competition, her heart sank. This man wasn for him.’ft to look Candy Cane a big part’t organised enough to kill anybody. He would be hard pressed to sort out a bus journey. She wasn’t ruling him out altogether, but her experience told her that whoever killed those girls had a very analytical mind.

They had planned the deaths down to the last detail and this man wasn’t capable of that. He simply wasn’t capable of something so well executed. James Delacroix wouldn’t think of wiping the surfaces down and taking the evidence away with him. He might be faking it with this act, but Kate had the feeling that he wasn’t. All her instincts told her that he was not the man they were searching for.

She stepped inside the room with Annie, and they sat opposite his chair, their actions relaxed and easy just as the doctor had recommended.

‘Come and take a seat, James. We’d like to have a few words with you.’

James looked at them then, as if seeing them for the first time. ‘I don’t like you. You are both mean. Mean to James.’

They had been warned James often referred to himself in the third person, especially if he felt threatened. If he did commit the murders, there was no way he would ever get near a courtroom.

‘Come and drink your tea, it’s getting cold.’

‘Don’t like tea. Not your tea.’

Kate’s voice was low, friendly. ‘Would you prefer something else? Water, coffee, a Coke?’

As James watched them warily, Annie saw he was digging his nails into his palms, the blood visible on his hands. He was extremely agitated and seemed confused.

As they observed him, the door opened, and Miriam bustled in, her huge bulk almost taking over the room. She was followed by a small man in a cheap suit and carrying a vinyl briefcase.

‘This is Mr Victor Blaine and he is here to represent Mr Delacroix.’

Miriam was very respectful, and Kate saw the compassion in her eyes for James. As she turned to leave he suddenly launched himself at her, almost rugby-tackling her to the ground. As big as she was, Miriam went down like a sack of spuds, taking the unfortunate Mr Blaine with her. Her head gave a loud crack as it hit the cement floor.

Pandemonium ensued.

Patrick and Danny were sitting in frosty silence in Patrick’s office at home. They both wondered how they could start the conversation they knew needed to be had. After all, they needed to talk about this problem sooner rather than later.

‘Look, Danny. I think we should get this out in the open. I treated Eve badly. I am ashamed of meself.’

‘So you fucking should be.’

Patrick admired Danny for his anger, for the fact that he had not tried to pretend that nothing untoward had happened. That would be a coward’s way out. Danny Foster was a lot of things, but a coward was not one of them.

‘I made a mistake. I was trying to get over Kate and Eve . . . well, you know the effect Eve can have on men. To be honest, she reminded me of Kate. Strong, open, forthright. Then it all just got out of hand. I apologise, Danny, from the bottom of my heart. I never set out to hurt her.’

Danny saw the genuine sorrow in Patrick’s eyes. In a way, he had guessed the truth. He had warned his sister not to get too involved. In fact, he had been surprisede appreciatedc { font-size: 1.5ry at her reaction to Patrick Kelly. He knew that, like him, she wanted to further her career, and Patrick Kelly would have been ideal in that respect. But he now knew that Eve had fallen for the man, hook, line and the proverbial sinker.

Danny sighed. ‘You hurt her, Patrick, she deserved better.’

Patrick shrugged and held his arms out in a gesture of forgiveness. ‘I know that better than you do. But she caught me off guard, and you know me by now. I don’t mince my words when I’m cornered. If she had left last night none of this would have happened.’

Danny nodded slightly and Patrick breathed a mental sigh of relief. ‘So, can we put this behind us?’