The Secret Place (Dublin Murder Squad, #5)(59)

I felt Conway think it too. Didn’t want her thanking me. Not that she probably would have, but just in case:

I said, ‘Rebecca’s changed, since you were here last. Yeah?’

‘You mean I steered you wrong.’

‘I mean with all of Joanne’s lot, what you told me was bang on. With Rebecca, it was out of date.’

‘No shit. Last time, Rebecca could hardly open her mouth. Acted like she’d be happy to curl up and die, if that’d make us leave her alone. Teachers said she was like that, just shyness, she’d outgrow it.’

‘She’s outgrown it now, all right.’

‘Yeah. She’s got better-looking – just bones and braces, last year, looked about ten; now she’s starting to come into herself. That could’ve upped her confidence.’

I nodded at the school. ‘How about the rest of that lot? Have they changed?’

Conway glanced at me. ‘Why? You figure whoever knows something, it’s gonna show?’

This whole chat, this was a test; same as the interviews, same as the search. Half of working a case together is this, table-tennising it. If that clicks, you’re golden. The best partners tossing a case around sound like two halves of the same mind. Not that I was aiming that high here – smart money said no one had ever partnered like that with Conway, even if anyone had wanted to – but the click: if that wasn’t there, I was going home.

I said, ‘They’re kids. They’re not tough. You think they could live with that for a year, like it was nothing?’

‘Maybe, maybe not. Kids, if they can’t cope with something, they’ll file it away, act like it never existed. And even if they’ve changed, so what? This age, they’re changing anyway.’

I said, ‘Have they?’

She chewed and thought. ‘Heffernan’s gang, nah. Just more of the same old. Even bitchier, even more alike. Thick blond geebag, slutty blond geebag, nervy blond geebag, geebaggy blond geebag, end of story. And the three lapdogs, they’re even scareder of Heffernan than they were.’

‘We said before: someone was scared, or she wouldn’t be messing about with postcards.’

Conway nodded. ‘Yeah. And I’m hoping she’s scareder now.’ She threw back coffee, eyes on the hockey. One of the little girls took another one down, whack to the shins, vicious enough that we heard it. ‘Holly and her gang, though. Back before, there was something about them, yeah. They were quirky or whatever, yeah. Now, though, Orla’s an idiot but she’s right: they’re weird.’

It took me till then to put my finger on it, what was different about them, or some of it. This: Joanne and all hers were what they thought I wanted them to be. What they thought guys wanted them to be, grown-ups wanted them to be, the world wanted them to be.

Holly’s lot were what they were. When they played thick or smart-arsed or demure, it was what they wanted to play. For their reasons, not mine.

Danger again, shimmering down my back with the sun.

I thought about saying it to Conway. Couldn’t work out how, without sounding like a nutter.

‘Selena,’ Conway said, ‘she’s the one that’s changed most. Last year, she was away with the fairies, all right – you could tell she had one of those dream-catcher things over her bed, or some unicorny shite that said “Believe in Your Dreams” – but nothing that stuck out a mile. And I put half of the spacy down to shock, specially if Chris had been her boyfriend. Now . . .’ She blew out a hiss of breath between her teeth. ‘I met her now, I’d say she was one rich daddy away from special school.’

I said, ‘I wouldn’t.’

That got Conway’s eyes off the hockey. ‘You think she’s putting it on?’

‘Not that.’ Took me a second to say it right. ‘The spacy’s real, all right. But I think there’s more underneath, and she’s using the spacy to hide it.’

‘Huh,’ Conway said. Thought back. ‘What Orla said about her hair, Selena’s? Last year that was down to her arse. Deadly hair, real blond, wavy, the rest would’ve killed for it. How many girls that age wear their hair that short?’

I’m not up on teen fashion. ‘Not a lot?’

‘When we go back in there, keep an eye out. Unless someone’s had cancer, bet you Selena’s the only one.’

I drank my coffee. Good stuff, would’ve been better if Conway had cared that not everyone takes it black. I said, ‘How about Julia?’

Conway said, ‘What’d you think of her? Hard little bitch, yeah?’

‘Tough enough, for her age. Smart, too.’

‘She’s both of those, all right.’ Corner of Conway’s mouth going up, like at least part of her approved of Julia. ‘Here’s the thing, but. Last year, she was tougher. Hard as nails. Preliminary interview, half the other girls are bawling their eyes out, or trying to. Whether they knew Chris or not. Julia walks in with a face on her like she can’t believe we’re wasting her valuable time on this shit. We get to the end of the interview, I ask her does she have anything we should know, right? And she tells me – her words, and this is in front of McKenna, remember – she doesn’t give a f*ck who killed Chris Harper, he was just another Colm’s moron and it’s not like there’s a shortage. McKenna goes off on some big bullshit speech about respect and compassion, and Julia yawns in her face.’