The Secret Place (Dublin Murder Squad, #5)(37)

My accent. Whirr, went Joanne’s filing system. Spat me out in the bottom drawer. Eyelid-flutter of disdain.

‘I didn’t exactly get a choice? And just by the way, I actually had things to do for the last hour. I didn’t need to spend it sitting outside the office getting bored to death and not even allowed to talk.’

‘I’m really sorry about that. We didn’t mean to keep you waiting. If I’d known the other interviews were going to take this long . . .’ I rearranged the chair for her. ‘Have a seat.’

Curl of her lip at Conway, on her way: You.

‘Now,’ I said, when we’d sat down. ‘We’ve just got a few routine questions. We’ll be asking a lot of people the same things, but I’d really appreciate hearing your thoughts. It could make a big difference.’

Respectful. Hands clasped together. Like she was the Princess of the Universe, doing us a favour.

Joanne examined me. Flat pale-blue eyes, just a little too wide. Not enough blinks.

Finally she nodded. Gracious, honouring me.

‘Thanks,’ I said. Big smile, humble servant. Conway moved in the corner of my eye, a sharp jerk; trying not to puke, probably. ‘If you don’t mind, could we start with yesterday evening? Could you just run through it for me, from the beginning of first study period?’

Joanne told the same story over again. Slow and clear, small words, for the plebs. To Conway, scribbling away: ‘Are you getting this? Or do I have to slow down?’

Conway gave her a great big grin. ‘If I need you to do anything, you’ll know. Believe me.’

I said, ‘Thanks, Joanne. That’s very considerate of you. Tell me: while you were up here, did you look at the Secret Place?’

‘I had a little lookie when I went to the loo. Just to see if there was anything good.’

‘Was there?’

Joanne shrugged. ‘Same old stuff. Boring.’

No Labradors, no boobs. I said, ‘Any of those cards yours?’

Glance flicked at Houlihan. ‘No.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Um, yes?’

‘Just asking because one of your friends mentioned that you’d made up a few, early on.’

Joanne’s eyes chilled over. ‘Who said that?’

Spread my hands, humble. ‘I can’t give out that information. Sorry.’

Joanne was biting at the inside of her mouth, squashed her face up sideways. The others were all going to pay. ‘If she said it was just me, she’s such a liar. It was all of us. And we took them down again. I mean, come on. You make it sound like some massive big deal. We were just having a laugh.’

Conway had been right: lies on that board, as well as secrets. McKenna had put it up for her purposes; the girls used it for theirs.

I said, ‘How about this one?’ Photo into her hand.

Joanne’s jaw dropped. She recoiled in the chair. Squealed, ‘OhmyGod!’ Clapped a hand over her mouth.

Fake as f*ck.

It meant nothing. Some people are like that: everything comes out like a lie. Not that they’re brilliant liars, just that they’re useless at telling the truth. You get left with no way to tell what’s the real fake and what’s the fake one.

We waited for her to finish up. Caught her fast glance at us, between squealy noises, to check if we were impressed.

I said, ‘Did you put that up on the Secret Place?’

‘Um, hello, no? I mean, can’t you see I’m literally in shock?’

The hand was pressed to her chest. She did a bit of gaspy breathing. Conway and I watched with interest.

Houlihan hovered, half out of her chair. Twittered.

Conway said, without looking, ‘You can sit down. She’s grand.’

Joanne shot Conway a poison look. Quit gasping.

I said, ‘Not for a laugh, no? There’s nothing wrong with that; it’s not like you’re under oath to stick to real secrets. We just need to know.’

‘I told you. No. OK?’

Backing off meant goodbye to my shot at ruling out all but one, hearing that lock click open.

Joanne was giving me the shit-on-my-shoe stare. An inch from throwing me away in the same bin as Conway.

‘Absolutely,’ I said. Took the photo back, tucked it away, all gone. ‘Just making sure. So which of your friends do you think it was?’

Something catching and flaring in Joanne’s eye; something real. Outrage; fury. Then it died.

‘Uh-uh.’ One finger wagging. Little smile. ‘No way any of them put this up.’

A hundred per cent positive. They wouldn’t dare.

‘Then who did?’

‘Um, how is that my problem?’

‘It’s not. But you’ve obviously got your finger on the pulse of everything that happens in this school. If anyone’s guess is worth hearing, it’s yours.’

Satisfied smile, Joanne accepting her due. I had her back. ‘If it’s someone who was in the school yesterday evening, then it’s the people who were in here after us. Julia and Holly and Selena and Whatshername.’

‘Yeah? You figure they know something about what happened to Chris?’

Shrug. ‘Maybe.’

‘Interesting,’ I said. Nodded away, grave. ‘Anything special making you think that?’