The Doll's House (42 page)

Despite the neighbour’s observation, the house initially appeared empty. But one of Merriman’s crew had picked up something on the last check. With the wind dying down on the strand, they thought they’d heard something inside: raised voices in line with what had been reported from the house-to-house.

Crossing from the strand, O’Connor and Merriman went to the back of the building, knowing that if either of them confirmed what the officer had reported, O’Connor would have no choice but to call in the Emergency Response Unit.

Within seconds, they heard a woman screeching from high in the house. Both men backed away. Once O’Connor was at a sufficient distance, he put in his call to ERU at Harcourt Street. An on-scene commander was immediately briefed. James Maloney was the same rank as O’Connor, but he would call the shots once the marksmen were deployed. If what O’Connor’s gut was telling him was true, Maloney would also be the ultimate decider in any potential hostage negotiation.

Knowing the ERU boys would be going in, O’Connor made a final call to Hennessy. McDaid had been very willing to talk about the old house, coming through with decent information that O’Connor passed on to Maloney, who had arrived within moments of the alert being received at ERU.

He was accompanied by two sharp-shooters, Morgan and Quinn. Their first job was to get inside and report back. It was an old house
and, according to McDaid, had an out-of-operation food shaft, with access from the kitchen. McDaid had said they used to mess about in it as kids.

There was no guarantee that it was still in place, but it was a chance, and probably the only way of getting the two marksmen to the top of the building without being seen. Maloney decided that they would gain access to the premises from the rear. There was a back window which could easily be prised open, even if they needed to create some kind of a decoy sound for it to go unnoticed. O’Connor instructed Merriman’s reconnaissance squad to clear the occupants of the nearby houses, closing off the street, while Maloney set up the decoy, a group of police dogs barking like blazes.

As the two officers gained access to the building, O’Connor picked up his mobile phone, which he had put on silent. Matthews had news.

‘We have one of your missing amigos.’

‘Which one?’

‘Martin McKay. They picked him up on the outskirts of the city. He might have been heading to the airport for all we know. He took a company car. Apparently his Mercedes went missing earlier on.’

‘And he decided not to report it?’

‘Claims he was going to, but hadn’t the time.’

‘Where is he now, Matthews?’

‘He’s here. He’s also claiming he has no idea where his wife or brother-in-law could be. Neither does he know why the Volvo is covered with blood. According to him, he never drove the car, it belonged to his wife, and, O’Connor …’

‘Yeah?’

‘He’s asked to have his lawyer present.’

‘I already dislike the fucker. Listen, Matthews, I have to go, but don’t take any shit off that lawyer of his. The bottom line is, we have the car, we have the blood. If he wants to come up smelling of roses, we’ll need a DNA sample.’

‘What’s happening there?’

‘The ERU boys are going into the house now. Maloney’s in charge. It’s impossible to know who exactly is in there, but one thing’s for sure. It isn’t Martin McKay.’

‘What do you think is going down?’

‘I don’t know, Matthews, at least not yet, but if it is Dominic Hamilton, and he has his sister or anyone else there under force, they’re in danger.’

‘I hear you.’

‘Listen, Matthews, depending on what the shooters report back, we’re probably in hostage negotiator territory. I’m going to phone Kate Pearson. I’ve already spoken to Maloney about it. If our man is psychotic, as Kate suspects, it might be an idea to set up audio communications between Kate and the negotiator. We’re going to need all the help we can get if we want to avoid this turning bloody nasty.’

‘Right. I’ll keep the pressure on McKay.’

‘And, Matthews, make sure Butler’s up to date on all of this. You know how he needs to be kept in the loop. I’m ringing Kate Pearson next.’

‘Dominic, please tell me.’ He can’t stop talking now.

‘You went to your room to play with your doll’s house. I hid up here, out of the way, trying to shut it all out.’ Again he looks away, as if the more we talk, the harder he finds it to work things out.

His face looks as if it’s shifting from rage to confusion. He’s breathing deeply, tightening his grip on the knife. When he does speak, it’s almost in a whisper. ‘Dad came to look for me. He said you told him I knew a secret about Mum. He wanted me to tell him.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I told him to go to Hell.’ His voice is angry.

‘And then what?’

‘He hit me hard. He’d never hit me before. And do you know what, Clodagh?’

I look at my brother, not understanding why some warped happiness is lifting his mood. ‘What, Dominic?’

‘It felt good. It felt good to feel the pain on my face, a form of release, my jaw throbbing. The punishment felt sweet.’ For the first time, Dominic turns his back to me, and even though I know it’s my chance to get out of there, I do nothing, only listen.

‘After he’d hit me, he went back downstairs. Not to Mum, but to you.’ Dominic turns to me again. ‘I followed him, Clodagh. I stood outside your bedroom like a lowlife spy, and listened while Daddy’s little girl told him everything.’

‘But I couldn’t have known, not fully.’

‘You knew enough for him to work it out. Jenkins and Mum being
together, how you thought she loved him more than she loved Dad and …’

‘What else did I tell him?’

‘You told him Jenkins came to the house to visit Mum and the baby. I wasn’t there and neither was he.’

‘I don’t remember it.’

‘You saw Mum give Emmaline to Jenkins to hold in his arms, saying she was theirs.’

‘I can’t have.’

‘You said she wasn’t Daddy’s little girl, that she couldn’t be. You were Daddy’s little girl.’

I feel sick. I don’t want to believe him, but then I hear myself say, clear and low, ‘Dominic, what happened then?’

He puts his head in his hands, as if he’s in pain, and I’m afraid he won’t tell me what he has to say. I plead with him again, ‘Dominic, please tell me what happened next.’ I can’t hide the nervousness in my voice.

He looks up at me, and then his words are spoken in slow motion. ‘He had already been drinking. That was why he hit me so hard. He and Mum started roaring at each other again, and he stormed out. Mum was crying. You were too. Then Martin and Stevie called. I brought them up here to the attic. They started slanging the state of me, my face bloated from his fist. I ignored them. I went back downstairs. I took you up to the attic too. I told the boys to stay quiet. We had torches and we were whispering. It felt exciting. You were playing with Sandy. I thought everything would be okay, it would blow over. But then I heard him come home.’ Dominic stops talking. He looks like he’s in some kind of trance.

‘Dominic, what happened when Dad came home?’

My words jolt him back. ‘I heard doors slamming, glass smashing. You started crying. I told you to stay here. Martin and Stevie were sniggering. They didn’t know. None of us could have.’

‘Know what, Dominic? Jesus Christ, tell me.’

‘I told you to stay with the boys. I went downstairs, and that was when … I stopped in front of their bedroom door.’

‘Why?’

‘I was scared. He was so angry. I stood in the doorway, doing nothing. The same way I had when Alister Becon attacked her. But this time it wasn’t her under attack, it was Emmaline.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘I saw him. I saw him kill her. He lashed out blindly. The crib fell over. She hit her head. Mum was screaming, “She’s dead! She’s dead! You’ve killed her!”’

‘Oh, God.’ I put my hand to my mouth, hardly able to take it in, but he keeps talking, like I’m not there any more.

‘Emmaline looked perfect,’ his words are soft, ‘there wasn’t even a mark, not at first, but then her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and then came the …’

‘Dominic!’ Again I’m screaming. ‘What came next?’

‘The silence, Clodagh, the long, agonising silence that said nothing could ever be the same again.’

I stare at him.

‘Then I walked away, Clodagh. I came up here. I told the boys that the baby wasn’t well, that they had to go home. You started to cry because you were scared. I took you to your room, told you to stay there.’ Dominic’s eyes lock onto mine.

Everything feels shattered, savaged by memory, shredded, torn and soiled. My mouth is wide open. I’m finding it hard to breathe, but Dominic keeps talking. ‘I saw him kill her, Clodagh, and I did nothing.’ With that, his tears come, years of guilt heaving with every one of them.

‘I didn’t stay in my room,’ I say.

My words surprise him. He stares at me.

‘I crossed the landing and opened their bedroom door. Mum was
standing by the window. Dad had his face in his hands. He was so upset, but she was angry, and full of hate.’ I realise my hands are shaking. I hold them together tightly. ‘I cut my dolls’ hair.’

‘What?’ He looks confused.

‘Afterwards, I cut off Debbie and Sandy’s hair with a scissors. I didn’t want them to be pretty any more. Mum was pretty, really pretty. That was why Keith Jenkins loved her.’ I wait before finally saying, ‘Dominic, it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t either of our fault.’ But even as I say the words, a part of me doubts that they are true. What if I hadn’t said what I did? What if I had said nothing?

I feel rage, fear and then uncertainty, until a form of exhaustion takes hold, as if our past has become bigger than both of us.

‘Dominic, you’re not well. You can’t be, to have done what you’ve done. Now, you need to tell me everything, including why Alister Becon expected Martin to come through that door.’

Instead of answering me, he turns the knife in his hand, the blade glinting, and I wonder for the first time if I will be the next to die.

‘Listen, Maloney, I’m going to phone Kate Pearson now, just in case.’

‘Okay, but I’ll be giving the instructions.’

O’Connor’s voice was sombre as Kate answered his call. ‘Kate, how long will it take you to get over here?’

‘To Sandymount?’

‘We have a possible hostage situation on our hands. I’m working with Maloney from ERU. He’s heading this thing up. We already have two sharp-shooters in the premises. We’re waiting for them to report back. Once they do, we could be calling in a hostage negotiator. Considering we could be dealing with someone psychotic, it could make a difference if you are on board.’

‘But, O’Connor—’

‘We’re not going to put you at any risk. I know how your involvement in the Devine and Spain murders went badly wrong. We’ll set you up with detectives in one of the adjoining buildings. If you’re happy to work with the negotiator, your communication will be by audio link. The only people going into seventy-four Strand Road will be the two sharp-shooters already deployed, and the hostage negotiator.’

Kate hesitated. O’Connor kept his silence, not wanting to force her.

‘Okay, I’ll do it. What else can you tell me?’

‘Give me a minute, Kate. Our men are exiting the premises. We’ll know more once we talk to them.’

‘I’ll head over there.’

‘No, I’ll get an unmarked car to pick you up. You’ll make better
time. The road is closed off at both ends. I’ll get a couple of the guys to meet you at the Ringsend side.’

‘Okay.’

Morgan and Quinn exited the premises with the ease and controlled silence that had been trained into their every muscle. Dressed in dark navy, with narrow yellow stripes on their upper jacket and lower sleeves, they held their armed rifles high and tight to the chest. Their expressions gave nothing away. Their task now was to report to Maloney on what they had found inside number 74. It was Morgan, the older and more experienced of the two, who did most of the talking.

‘We have a man down. Multiple stab wounds to the upper chest, possible drowning. The body is submerged in a bathtub on the second floor. The food hatch entry point is still in the kitchen. Internal examination shows the shaft reaches up to the top of the building. All areas are clear except for the attic – we heard a minimum of two voices from inside, male and female. Main access to the attic is via an upstairs bedroom at the rear of the building.’

O’Connor asked the first question. ‘The man down, Morgan, can you describe him?’

‘Victim is short in stature, mid-sixties, moderately overweight, black-grey hair.’

‘Becon,’ O’Connor muttered, below his breath, more to himself than Maloney, or the two men in front of him.

Maloney didn’t hesitate with his instructions. ‘Morgan, I need you both to go back in there. I want you to assume a position at the height of the shaft, near the attic joists. Hopefully you’ll get a visual into the attic space from there.’

‘We won’t need much of an opening, sir.’ Again Morgan did the talking.

Maloney looked at both his men. ‘It’s an old building. I’m hoping we’ll get lucky.’ Morgan and Quinn nodded in acknowledgement, as Maloney continued, ‘Quinn, I want you to be the first to take position up above. When you’re
in situ
, and have a clear view and aim within the upper space of the house, give Morgan the signal. I’ll send the negotiator in once I know you’re both in position. The aim is to get out of here with no more loss of life, but if things take a turn, bring the male down. Is that clear?’