The Dead Room

31

Darby saw several footwear impressions in the dirt – some good enough to cast. Each one was the sole of a sneaker, judging by its shape and tread pattern.

‘The tread pattern is different,’ Coop said, ‘but it’s the same size as the one you found in Belham.’

‘I agree.’

‘Kind of an odd place to be standing, don’t you think?’

‘Not if you’re hiding.’

‘Exactly. If you wanted to pop your Federal friend, why not do it when he’s coming down the steps?’

‘Good question.’

‘I also took a look at the grave behind that armoire and found another human skull.’

‘Why were you in such a rush to get down here?’

‘Anything involving Kevin Reynolds makes me nervous.’

‘You didn’t mention anything about him when we were in the car.’

‘I didn’t know he was involved until we pulled up to the street,’ he said. ‘When I saw the house, that’s when I knew.’

‘Jennings gave you the address. You didn’t recognize it?’

‘Darby, I don’t know everyone who lives here.’

‘Do you know Reynolds?’

‘Sure do. He introduced the town to herpes.’

‘How well do you know him?’

‘I don’t. He’s sort of a neighbourhood fixture – people still cross the street when they see him. At least the people who grew up here still do.’

‘You’ve been awfully quiet.’

‘I’ve heard Jennings’s rap before.’ Coop shut off the flashlight. ‘I’ll go get a fingerprint card. I’ll call Mark and Randy, get one of them to come down here so they can take it back to the lab.’

‘Tell me more about Reynolds first.’

‘He worked for Sullivan from the time he was seventeen. Kevin was a bouncer at this local bar called McGee’s. Place is a real shithole. You only went there if you were looking to score bad coke or get stabbed. Mr Sullivan saw Kevin in action a few times and offered him a job as a bodyguard and chauffeur.’

‘Mr Sullivan?’

‘Sorry, old habit. You saw Sullivan on the street, or if he came up and said hello, that’s what you called him. Frank was big on respect. If you didn’t show it to him or Reynolds or any of his flunkies, you’d better have a good dental plan, ’cause you’d be crawling home with two black eyes and at least one missing tooth.’

‘Are you speaking from personal experience?’

‘I never had any run-ins with either of them. I kept my distance. Not that it was easy. When I was growing up, Frank and his boys owned every inch of these streets. You did what you were told.’

Coop moved to the grave. ‘I’m surprised Kevin’s mom didn’t smell these bodies. I wonder if they poured lime on them.’

‘Do you know who they are?’

‘Why are you asking me?’

‘You grew up here.’

‘Your point?’

‘I’m sure you heard rumours about missing women.’

‘Sullivan and his crew had a merry-go-round of young ladies. If you had the IQ of a Tic Tac, he moved you to the front of the line. Too bad the guy isn’t still alive. You’d find him real interesting.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘He was a serial killer. We’re talking numbers that surpass those of Ted Bundy.’

‘I don’t recall anything about Sullivan ever being arrested.’

‘He never was. The guy was untouchable. You can attain that status if you have inside help.’

‘Anyone we know?’

He shook his head.

‘Do you know the names of any of Sullivan’s female victims?’

‘No.’

‘You must know something. The guy lived in Charlestown, I’m sure you –’

‘Darby, I’m not a walking history book when it comes to all the shitheads who’ve lived here.’

‘What’s bothering you?’

‘Sullivan is a sore spot for me. The people who lived here when I was growing up – my parents included – viewed him as this Robin Hood character who, okay, while not a nice guy, was actually good for the city because he kept drugs out of here. Which was bullshit. Sullivan started selling heroin in Southie, making big money, and he’s walking around here telling people how he’s going to kill anyone he catches selling it. The man was a genius at playing both sides of the fence.’

It’s more than that, she thought.

‘The other thing is, you know how I feel about Charlestown. How it’s stuck with this townie reputation, that everyone living here is collecting welfare while planning to rob a bank or armoured car. Do we still have our fair share of yahoos and junkies? Absolutely. But name a place that doesn’t. Of course, the press would lead you to believe that that’s all we have living here. Charlestown’s different now. We’ve got a better class of people. The gentrification wave cleaned up most of the shit, but the press won’t report that. And when the news gets out that bones were found in Kevin Reynolds’s house, it’s going to resurrect all that Irish gangster bullshit again. It’s like a skid mark you can’t wash from your underwear.’

‘Thanks for the visual,’ she said.

‘You’re welcome. Now can we get to work?’

Darby didn’t answer. Coop was keeping something from her; she could feel it in her gut. ‘What is it about Kendra Sheppard that’s really bothering you?’

He rolled his eyes.

‘You’re not being honest with me, Coop.’

‘I’m sorry you feel that way.’

‘You didn’t talk in the car, you didn’t –’

‘You didn’t say much of anything either.’

‘What’s going on?’

‘Darby, I told you everything I know. Why are you turning this into a goddamn inquisition?’

Because you never were a good liar, Coop. I can see it in your eyes. And the more I keep pressing you, the more defensive you get.

‘I’m going to go upstairs, get the fingerprint card and call the ME’s office,’ he said, emphasizing each word. ‘You’re more than welcome to escort me, since I’m getting the feeling you don’t trust me.’

‘I never said I didn’t trust you.’

‘Then can I get off the witness stand and do some work? Or do you want to waste more time grilling me?’

‘Call ops and have them page Castonguay,’ Darby said. ‘I want him here taking the pictures. Tell him I think I found his HERF device.’