The Secret Place (Dublin Murder Squad, #5)(111)

‘If they all go bloody Spartacus, I swear I’ll take them up on it. Arrest the f*cking lot, let the prosecutors sort it out.’ Conway pressed the heels of her hands into her eye sockets, like she didn’t want to see the corridor any more. We’d been there long enough that the place was starting to look familiar, in a glitchy way, something you saw in a stuttering DVD or when you were too hammered to see straight. She said, ‘We’ll go at the three of them as soon as we get those full texts. I want some clue what went down between Chris and Selena – the breakup, and after. See her face, when she looked at those records? The ones for just before the murder?’

I said, ‘Startled. Looked like the real thing to me.’

‘You think everything’s the real thing. How you got this far . . .’ She didn’t have the energy. ‘It did, but. She didn’t expect to see all those texts. She might’ve just flaked out and forgotten them; she’s spacy enough to start with, and she says herself she’s not too clear on those couple of weeks. Or else . . .’

‘Or else someone else knew about her phone. Used it to send some of those texts.’

Conway said, ‘Yeah. Joanne must’ve figured that Selena had a special Chris phone, same as she did. Julia must’ve, too, since she knew about Joanne’s. And did you see Selena clam up when I asked about finding the phone in the wrong position? Someone was at it, all right.’

I said, ‘We need those texts. Even if they’re not signed—’

‘They won’t be.’

‘Yeah, probably not. But there might be something that gives us a hint who wrote them.’

‘Yeah. And I want to ID the other girls Chris was texting, before he hooked up with Selena. If another one of our eight was in there, things are gonna get interesting – specially if she’s the one he was juggling with Joanne. Bet you anything the special phones were never registered, but we could get lucky, find a name somewhere in the texts – or there could be something in the photos they sent, if we can get them. Any girl with the brains of pet food would’ve cropped out her face, but I’m gonna bet on at least one idiot. And someone might have a mole on her tit, a scar, something identifiable.’

I said, ‘OK if I leave that part to you?’

Conway still had her hands on her eyes, but I saw the twitch of her mouth, what might have been a grin if she’d been less wrecked. ‘I’ll look at the girls’ pics, you look at Chris’s. No one needs brain bleach.’

‘We hope.’

‘Yeah.’ The grin was gone. ‘OK: I’ll go ask McKenna to let that lot outside for a while. Seeing as I promised Selena.’ I’d forgotten. ‘Then we’ll head down to the canteen, see if we can find something to eat while we wait for Sophie’s guy to pull his finger out. I could murder a dirty great burger.’

‘Two.’

‘Two. And chips.’

We were straightening up, smoothing down, when it came: buzz from Conway’s pocket.

She grabbed for the phone. ‘The texts.’ She was straight-backed and alert as morning, fatigue tossed away like a wet jacket. ‘Ah, yeah. Here we go. Swear to God, I’d marry Sophie.’

This attachment was even longer than the last one. ‘Sit down for this,’ Conway said. ‘Over there,’ and jerked her chin towards the window alcove at the far end of the corridor, between the two common rooms. The window had gone a clear lit purple, dusk that looked like thunder. Fine clouds shifted, restless.

We pulled ourselves onto the sill and sat shoulder to shoulder. Started at the beginning of the attachment and skimmed fast, trying to pay attention to the early stuff. Kids on Christmas morning, able to think about nothing but the big shiny package we were saving for last. Silence drumming at us, from the doors on both sides.

Lots of flirting. Chris flattering, Saw u down at d court 2day, u were looking gorgeous; the girl coming back coy, OMG cant beleive u saw me looking sooo crap my hair was a total mess lol. Chris straight in there, Wasn’t looking at ur hair, not with the way ur tits looked in that top :-D. You could practically hear the girl squealing. U r so dirty!

Bits of drama: some girl on a high-strung high horse, Don’t listen 2 what ppl r saying abt Fri evening they weren’t there! Ne1 can make up whatever shit they want but there was only the 4 of us there so if u want to know the truth then just ASK ME!!! Lots of making appointments, but all of them were legit, mostly after school at the shopping centre or in the park; no one had been sneaking out at night, not back then. One chain text: If you love your mother then text this to 20 people. A girl ignored this and 30 days later her mam died. Sorry I can’t ignore this because I love my mother!

You forget what it was like. You’d swear on your life you never will, but year by year it falls away. How your temperature ran off the mercury, your heart galloped flat out and never needed to rest, everything was pitched on the edge of shattering glass. How wanting something was like dying of thirst. How your skin was too fine to keep out any of the million things flooding by; every colour boiled bright enough to scald you, any second of any day could send you soaring or rip you to bloody shreds.

That was when I really believed it, not as a detective’s solid theory but right in my gut: a teenage girl could have killed Chris Harper. Had killed him.

Conway had caught it, too. ‘Bloody hell. The energy.’