The Secret Place

Chapter 21

We didn’t talk about Holly, me and Conway. We held her name between us like nitroglycerine and didn’t look at each other, while we did what needed doing: handed Alison over to Miss Arnold, told her to hang on to the kid overnight. Asked her for the key to the lost-and-found bin, and the story on how long things stayed in there before they got dumped. Low-value stuff went to charity at the end of each term, but pricey things – MP3 players, phones – they got left indefinitely.

The school building was dim-lit for nighttime. ‘What?’ Conway demanded, when the crack of a stair made me shy sideways.

‘Nothing.’ When that wasn’t enough: ‘A bit jumpy.’

‘Why?’

No way was I going to say Frank Mackey. ‘That light-bulb was a bit freaky. Is all.’

‘It wasn’t fucking freaky. The wiring in this place is a hundred years old; shit must blow up all the time. What’s freaky about that?’

‘Nothing. The timing, just.’

‘The timing was there’d been people in that common room all evening. The motion sensor’s been working overtime, something overheated and the bulb blew. End of fucking story.’

I wasn’t going to fight her on it, not when I agreed with her and she probably knew it. ‘Yeah. I’d say you’re right.’

‘Yeah. I am.’

Even arguing, we were keeping our voices down – the place made you feel like someone could be listening, getting ready to jump out at you. Every sound we made flitted away up the great curve of the stairwell, settled to rest in the shadows somewhere high above us. Above the front door the fanlight glowed blue, delicate as wing-bones.

The bin was black metal, old, off in a corner of the foyer. I fitted the key – quietly as I could, feeling like a kid slipping through forbidden places, springy with adrenaline – and swung open the panel at the bottom. Things came tumbling out at me: a cardigan smelling of stale perfume, a plush cat, a paperback, a sandal, a protractor.

The pearly pink flip-phone was at the bottom. We’d walked past it on our way into the school, that morning.

I put on my gloves, eased it out between two fingertips like we might get prints. We wouldn’t. Not off the outside, not off the inside of the cover, not off the battery or the SIM card. Everything would be shiny clean.

‘Great,’ Conway said, grim. ‘A cop’s kid. Beautiful.’

I said, finally, ‘This doesn’t mean for definite that Holly did it.’

My voice sounded reedy and stupid, too weak to convince even me. Flick of Conway’s eyebrow. ‘You don’t think?’

‘She could’ve been covering for Julia or Rebecca.’

‘Could’ve been, but we’ve got nothing that says she was. Everything else could point to any of them; this is the only thing we’ve got that’s specific, and it points straight at Holly. She couldn’t stand Chris. And from what I’ve seen of her, the kid’s determined, independent, got brains, got guts. She’d make a great killer.’

The cool of Holly, that morning in Cold Cases. Running the interview, glossy and sharp, throwing me a compliment to jump for at the end. Taking control.

‘Anything I’m missing,’ Conway said, ‘feel free to point it out.’

I said, ‘Why bring me the card?’

‘I didn’t miss that.’ Conway shook out another evidence envelope, spread it on top of the bin and started labelling. ‘She’s got balls, too. She knew someone would come to us sooner or later, figured doing it herself would take her off the suspect list – and it worked, too. If there’s trouble waiting for you, better to go out and meet it head-on, not stick your head in the sand and hope it doesn’t find you. I’d do the same thing.’

The look on Holly, that afternoon in the corridor when Alison lost the plot. Scanning faces. For a murderer, I’d thought then. For an informer had never crossed my mind.

I said, ‘That’s a lot of balls for a sixteen-year-old.’

‘So? You don’t think she’s got them?’

No answer to that. It hit me like a mouthful of ice: Conway had had Holly in her sights all along. The second I had shown up in her squad room, all eager, with my little card and my little story, she had started wondering.

Conway said, ‘I’m not saying she definitely did the job all by herself. Like we said before, it could’ve been her and Julia and Rebecca together; could’ve been the whole four of them. But whatever went down, Holly was up to her tits in it.’

‘And I’m not saying she wasn’t. I’m just keeping an open mind.’

Conway had finished labelling the envelope and straightened up, watching me. She said, ‘You think the same thing. You just don’t like that your Holly had you fooled.’

‘She’s not my Holly.’

Conway didn’t answer that. She held out the envelope for me to drop in the phone. Let it swing between her fingers. ‘If this interview is gonna be a problem for you,’ she said, ‘I need to know now.’

I kept my voice even. ‘Why would it be a problem?’

‘We’re gonna have to get her da in.’

No way to pretend Holly wasn’t a suspect. The stupidest detective alive wouldn’t bite on that. Holly’s da isn’t stupid.

I said, ‘Yeah. And?’

‘Word on the street is that Mackey’s done you a few favours. I’m not giving you hassle for that; you do what you need to do. But if the two of you are all buddy-buddy, or if you owe him, then you’re not the guy to interrogate his kid for murder.’

I said, ‘I don’t owe Mackey anything. And he’s not my buddy.’

Conway watched me.

‘It’s been years since I even talked to the guy. I came in useful to him once, he’s made sure to be useful to me since – he wants everyone knowing that helping him out pays off. That’s it. End of.’

‘Huh,’ Conway said. Maybe she looked satisfied; maybe she just looked like she had decided it might soften Mackey up, having an ally in the room. She sealed off the envelope, shoved it in her satchel with the rest. ‘I don’t know Mackey. Is he gonna give us hassle?’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘He will. I wouldn’t say he’ll whip Holly straight off home, tell us to talk to his solicitor; he’s not like that. He’ll fuck with us, but he’ll do it sideways, and he won’t leave unless it looks like we’re getting somewhere. He’ll want to keep us talking till he works out our theory, what we’ve got.’

Conway nodded. Said, ‘Got his number?’

‘Yeah.’

Next second I wished I’d said no, but all Conway said was, ‘Ring him.’

Mackey picked up fast. ‘Stephen, my man! Long time no talk.’

I said, ‘I’m at St Kilda’s.’

The air sharpened, instantly, to a knifepoint. ‘What’s happened.’

‘Holly’s fine,’ I said, fast. ‘Totally fine. We just need to have a chat with her, and we figured you’d want to be there.’

Silence. Then Mackey said, ‘You don’t say Word One to her till I get there. Not Word One. Have you got that?’

‘Got it.’

‘Don’t forget it. I’m nearby. I’ll be there in twenty.’ He hung up.

I put my phone away. ‘He’ll be here in fifteen minutes,’ I said. ‘We need to be ready.’

Conway slammed the panel of the lost-and-found bin, hard. The deep clang shot off into the shadows, took its time dissolving.

She said, loud, to the high darkness, ‘We’ll be ready.’

McKenna launched herself out of the common room at Conway’s knock like she’d been waiting behind the door. The long day and the white light in the corridor weren’t good to her. Her hair was still set solid and the expensive suit hadn’t a crease, but the discreet makeup was wearing off, in clumps. Her wrinkles had got deeper since that morning; her pores looked the size of chicken-pox scars. She had her phone in her hand: still doing damage control, trying to patch leaking seams.

She was raging. ‘I have no idea whether your standard procedures involve sending witnesses into hysterics–’

‘We weren’t the ones who kept a dozen teenage girls cooped up all day,’ Conway said. Gave the common-room door a slap. ‘Lovely room and all, but after a few hours the most tasteful decor in the world won’t stop them going stir-crazy. If I were you, I’d make sure they get a chance to stretch their legs before bed, unless you want them going off again at midnight.’

McKenna’s eyes closed for a second on the thought. ‘Thank you for your advice, Detective, but I think you’ve done enough already. The students have been cooped up in case you needed to speak with them, and that will no longer be an issue. I would like you to leave now.’

‘Can’t be done,’ Conway said. ‘Sorry. We need a quick word with Holly Mackey. Just waiting for her da to get here.’

That sent McKenna up another notch. ‘I gave you permission to speak to our students specifically so you would not need to request parental authorisation. Involving the parents is completely unnecessary, it can only complicate the situation both for you and for the school–’

‘Holly’s da’s going to hear all about this anyway, soon as he shows up for work in the morning. Don’t worry: I wouldn’t say he’ll be straight on the phone to the mummy network to pass on the gossip.’

‘Is there any earthly reason why this needs to be done tonight? As you so cleverly pointed out, the students have already had more than enough of this pressure for one day. In the morning–’

Conway said, ‘We can talk to Holly in the main school building. Get us out of your hair, let the rest of the girls go back to the normal routine. How’s the art room?’

McKenna was all monobosom, no lips. ‘Lights-out is at a quarter to eleven. By that time I expect Holly – and all the other students – to be in their rooms and in bed. If you have further questions for any of them, I assume they can wait until tomorrow morning.’ And the common-room door shut in our faces.

‘You have to love the attitude,’ Conway said. ‘Doesn’t give a shite that we could arrest her for obstruction; this is her manor, she’s the boss.’

I said, ‘Why the art room?’

‘Keep her thinking about that postcard, remembering there’s someone out there who knows.’ Conway tugged the elastic out of what was left of her bun. Hair came down around her shoulders, straight and heavy. ‘You start us off. Good Cop, nice and gentle, don’t spook her and don’t spook Daddy. Just set up the facts: she was getting out at night, she knew about Chris and Selena, she didn’t like Chris. Try and fill in the details: why she didn’t like him, whether she discussed the relationship with the others. When you need Bad Cop, I’ll come in.’

A couple of fast twists of her wrists, a snap of hairband, and the bun was in place, smooth and glossy as marble. Her shoulders had straightened; even the scoured look had fallen away from her face. Conway was ready.

The common-room door opened. Holly in the doorway, with McKenna behind her. Ponytail, jeans, a turquoise hoodie with sleeves that hid her hands.

I’d been thinking of her all snap and sheen, but that was gone. She was white and ten years older, daze-eyed, like someone had shaken her world like a snow globe and nothing was coming down in the same places. Like she had been so confident she was doing everything right, and all of a sudden nothing looked that simple any more.

It turned me cold. I couldn’t look at Conway. Didn’t need to; I knew she’d seen it too.

Holly said, ‘What’s going on?’

I remembered her nine years old, so stiff with courage she would break your heart. I said, ‘Your dad’s on his way. I’d say he’d rather we don’t talk till he gets here.’

That burned off the daze. Holly’s head went back in exasperation. ‘You called my dad? Come on!’

I didn’t answer. Holly saw the look on me and closed her mouth. Disappeared behind the smoothness of her face, innocent and secretive all at once.

‘Thanks,’ Conway said to McKenna. To me and Holly: ‘Let’s go.’

The long corridor we’d walked down that morning, to find the Secret Place. Then it had been humming with sun and busyness; now – Conway passed the light switch without a glance – it was twilit and sizeless. Evening through the window behind us gave us faint shadows, me and Conway stretched even taller on either side of the straight slip of Holly, like guards with a hostage. Our steps echoed like marching boots.

The Secret Place. In that light it looked like it was rippling, just off the corner of your vision, but it had lost that boil and jabber. All you could almost hear off it was a long murmur made of a thousand muffled whispers, all begging you to hear. A new postcard had a photo of one of those gold living statues you get on Grafton Street; the caption said, they terrify me!

The art room. Not morning-fresh and rising with sunlight now. The overhead lights left murky corners; the green tables were smeared with shreds of clay, Conway’s balls of paper were still tumbled under chairs. McKenna must have cancelled the cleaners. Battening down the school as tight as she could, everything under control.

Outside the tall windows the moon was up, full and ripe against a dimming blue. On the table against them, that morning’s dropcloth had been pulled away, not put back. Where it had been was the whole school in miniature, in fairytale, in the finest curlicues of copper wire.

I said, ‘That. Is that the project you were working on last night?’

Holly said, ‘Yeah.’

Close up, it looked too delicate to stay standing. The walls were barely sketched, just the odd line of wire; you could look straight through them, to wire desks, ragged cloth blackboards scribbled with words too small to read, high-backed wire armchairs cosy around a fire of tissue-paper coals. It was winter; snow was piled on the gables, around the bases of the columns and the wine-jar curves of the balustrade. Behind the building, a lawn of snowdrift trailed off the edge of the baseboard into nothing.

I said, ‘That’s here, yeah?’

Holly had moved in, hovering, like I might smash it. ‘It’s Kilda’s a hundred years ago. We researched what it used to be like – we got old photos and everything – and then we built it.’

The bedrooms: tiny copper-wire beds, wisps of tissue paper for sheets. In the boarders’ wing and the nuns’, fingernail-length parchment scrolls swung in the windows, from threads fine as spiderweb. ‘What are the bits of paper?’ I asked. My breath set them spinning.

‘The names of people who were listed living here in the 1911 census. We don’t actually know who had what room, obviously, but we went on what age they were and the order they were listed in – like probably friends would be one after the other, because they would’ve been sitting together. One girl was called Hepzibah Cloade.’

Conway was spinning chairs into place around one of the long tables. One for Holly. One six feet down the table: Mackey. She brought them down hard, flat bangs on the lino.

I said, ‘Whose idea was it?’

Holly shrugged. ‘All of ours. We were talking about the girls who went to school here a hundred years ago – if they ever thought about the same things as us, stuff like that; what they did when they grew up. If any of their ghosts ever came back. Then we thought of this.’

Chair across the table from Holly, for me. Bang. Chair opposite Mackey, for Conway. Bang.

Four scrolls hanging in the air above the main staircase. I said, ‘Who’re those?’

‘Hepzibah and her friends. Elizabeth Brennan. Bridget Marley. Lillian O’Hara.’

‘Where are they going?’

Holly reached between wires and touched the scrolls with the tip of her little finger, set them whirling. She said, ‘We don’t even know for sure they were friends. They could’ve all hated each other’s guts.’

I said, ‘It’s beautiful.’

‘Yeah,’ Conway said. Like a warning. ‘It is.’

From behind us: ‘Fancy meeting you here.’

Mackey, in the doorway. Leaning back on his heels, bright blue eyes scanning, hands in the pockets of his brown leather jacket. Barely changed from the first time I’d seen him; the long fluorescents picked out deeper crows’ feet, more grey mixed in with the brown, but that was all.

‘Hiya, chickadee,’ he said. ‘How’s tricks?’

‘OK,’ Holly said. She looked at least half glad to see him, which is pretty good for a sixteen-year-old’s daddy. Another thing that hadn’t changed much: Mackey and Holly made a good team.

‘What’ve you been chatting about?’

‘Our art project. Don’t worry, Dad.’

‘Just making sure you haven’t made mincemeat of these nice people while I wasn’t there to protect them.’ Mackey switched to me. ‘Stephen. Too long no see.’ He came forward, held out his hand. Firm handshake, friendly smile. At least to start with, we were going to play this like everything was hunky-dory, all friends together, all on the same side.

I said, ‘Thanks for coming in. We’ll try not to keep you too long.’

‘And Detective Conway. Nice to meet you, after all the good things I’ve heard. Frank Mackey.’ A smile that was used to getting a response, got none off her. ‘Let’s step outside while you brief me.’

‘You’re not here as a detective,’ Conway said. ‘We’ve got that covered. Thanks.’

Mackey tossed me an eyebrow-lift and grin: Who pissed in her cornflakes? I got caught, not sure whether to smile back or not – with Mackey, you never know what he could turn into ammo. The paralysed gawp on me just made his grin get bigger.

He said to Conway, ‘Then if I’m just here as a daddy, I’d like a quick chat with my daughter.’

‘We need to get started. You can have a chat when we take a break.’

Mackey didn’t argue. Probably Conway thought that meant she’d won. He wandered off around the room, past the chair we’d set out for him, having a look at the art projects. Gave Holly’s hair a quick rub on his way. ‘Do us a favour, sweetheart. Before you answer any of the lovely detectives’ questions, give me a fast rundown of what we’re doing here.’

Shutting her down would wreck the vibe right there. Conway’s look said she was starting to see what I meant about Mackey. Holly said, ‘This morning I found a card on the Secret Place. It had a photo of Chris Harper and it said, “I know who killed him.” I took it to Stephen, and they’ve been hanging around here all day. They just keep interviewing all of us and all of Joanne Heffernan’s idiots, so I think they narrowed it down to one of us eight must’ve put the card up.’

‘Interesting,’ Mackey said. Leaned over, examined the wire school from different angles. ‘That’s coming along nicely. Anyone else’s parents get brought in?’

Holly shook her head.

‘Professional courtesy,’ Conway said.

‘Makes me feel all warm and squishy,’ Mackey said. He pulled himself up onto a windowsill, one foot swinging. ‘You remember the deal here, sweetheart, am I right? Answer what you want to, leave what you don’t. You want to discuss something with me before you answer it, we’ll do that. Anything upsets you or makes you uncomfortable, tell me and we’ll make tracks. That all sound OK?’

‘Dad,’ Holly said. ‘I’m fine.’

‘I know you are. Just laying out the ground rules, so everyone’s clear.’ He winked at me. ‘Keeps everything nice, amn’t I right?’

Conway swung a leg over her chair. Said, to Holly, ‘You are not obliged to say anything unless you wish to do so, but anything you do say will be taken down in writing and may be used in evidence. Got it?’

You try to keep it casual, the caution, but it changes the room. Mackey’s face giving away nothing. Holly’s eyebrows pulling together: this was new. ‘What…?’

Conway said, ‘You’ve been keeping stuff to yourself. That makes us get careful.’

I took my seat, opposite Holly. Held out a hand to Conway. She sent the lost-and-found phone, in its evidence bag, shooting down the table.

I passed it over to Holly. ‘Ever seen this before?’

A puzzled second; then Holly’s face cleared. ‘Yeah. It’s Alison’s.’

‘No. She has one the same, but that’s not it.’

Shrug. ‘Then I don’t know whose it is.’

‘That’s not what I need to know. I’m asking if you’ve seen it before.’

Longer puzzled look, slow head-shake. ‘Don’t think so.’

I said, ‘We have a witness who saw you drop it in the lost-and-found bin, the day after Chris Harper died.’

Total blank; then realisation dawned across Holly’s face. ‘Oh my God, that! I’d totally forgotten that. Yeah. We had a special assembly that morning, so McKenna could give us this big speech about a tragedy and assisting the police and whatever.’ Talky-mouth hand sign. ‘At the end we were all coming out of the hall into the foyer, and that phone was on the floor. I thought it was Alison’s, but I couldn’t see her; everything was a mess, everyone was talking and crying and hugging, the teachers were all trying to get us to shut up and go back to our classrooms… I just shoved the phone into the lost-and-found bin. I figured Alison could get it herself; not my problem. If it wasn’t hers, then whose was it?’

Flawless, even better than the real thing. And – clever clever girl – her story kept the whole school in the frame for having owned the phone. Conway’s jaded look said she’d spotted the same thing.

I took the phone back. Put it to one side, for later. Didn’t answer Holly’s question, but she didn’t push.

I said, ‘Julia and Selena must’ve told you: we know you guys used to get out at night, last year.’

Holly shot a fast glance at Mackey. ‘Don’t worry about me, chickadee,’ he said, pleasant grin. ‘My statute of limitation’s run out on that one. You’re OK.’

Holly said, to me, ‘So?’

‘What’d yous do out there?’

Her chin was out. ‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Come on, Holly. You know I have to ask.’

‘We just hung out. Talked. OK? We weren’t doing bath salts or having gang bangs or whatever you think the young people do these days. A couple of times we had a can, or a cigarette. Oh my God, shock horror.’

‘Don’t smoke,’ Mackey said severely, pointing. ‘What’ve I told you about smoking?’ Conway gave him a warning stare and he lifted his hands, all apologetic, all responsible dad who would never mess with the interview.

I ignored the pair of them. ‘Ever meet up with anyone? Guys from Colm’s, maybe?’

‘Jesus, no! We see enough of those morons already.’

‘So,’ I said, puzzled, ‘you were basically doing stuff you could’ve done indoors, or during the day. Why go to all that hassle, risk getting expelled?’

Holly said, ‘You wouldn’t understand.’

‘Try me.’

After a moment she sighed noisily. ‘Because out there in the dark was a better place to talk, is why. And because probably you never ever broke any rules in school, but not everyone always feels like doing everything exactly like they’re supposed to. OK?’

‘OK,’ I said. ‘That makes sense. I get that.’

Thumbs-up. ‘Wahey. Good for you.’

Almost four years of her teens left. I didn’t envy Mackey. I said, ‘You know Selena was sneaking out on her own to meet Chris Harper. Right?’

Holly pulled out the teenage vacant stare, bottom lip hanging. Made her look thick as pig shite, but I knew better.

‘We’ve got proof.’

‘Did you read it in your favourite gossip mag? Right under “R-Patz and K-Stew broke up again”?’

‘Behave,’ Mackey said, didn’t bother looking up. Holly rolled her eyes.

She was being a bitch because, for this reason or that one, she was scared. I leaned forward, close, till against her will she caught my eye. ‘Holly,’ I said gently. ‘This morning, you came to me for a reason. Because I was never thick enough to patronise you, and because you thought there was a chance I might understand more than most people. Right?’

Twitch of her shoulder. ‘I guess.’

‘You’re going to end up talking to someone about this stuff. I’d say you’d love to go back to your mates and pretend all this never happened – and I don’t blame you – but you don’t have that option.’

Holly was slumped in her chair, arms folded, eyes on the ceiling, like I was boring her into an actual coma here? She didn’t bother answering.

‘You know that as well as I do. You can talk to me, or you can talk to someone else. If you want to stick with me, I’ll do my best to live up to your good opinion. I don’t think I’ve let you down yet.’

Shrug.

‘So. You want to stick with me, or you want someone else?’

Mackey was watching me, under his eyelids, but he kept his mouth shut, which couldn’t be a compliment. Another shrug from Holly. ‘Whatever. Stick with you, I guess. I don’t care.’

‘Good,’ I said, and gave her a smile: We’re a team. Pulled my chair up closer to the table, ready for work. ‘So here’s the story. Selena’s already told us she was seeing Chris Harper. She’s told us she had a phone matching this description, which she used to text him. We have the phone records between the two of them. We have the actual texts setting up late-night meetings.’ Fast glance from Holly, before she could stop herself. She hadn’t known we could do that. ‘It’s not like I’m asking you to tell us something we don’t already know. I’m only asking for confirmation. So, one more time: did you know Selena was meeting Chris?’

Holly glanced at Mackey. He nodded.

‘Yeah,’ she said. The teen-brat shtick was gone, that fast. She sounded older. More complicated; more careful. ‘I knew.’

‘When did you find out?’

‘Last spring. Like a couple of weeks before Chris died, maybe? It was over by then, though. They weren’t meeting any more.’

‘How’d you find out?’

Holly was meeting my eyes now, cool and under control. She had her hands folded together on the table. She said, ‘Sometimes, when it’s hot, I can’t sleep. This one night, it was boiling, I was going mental trying to find cool bits of the bed; but then I thought, OK, maybe if I stay totally still I’ll fall asleep, right? So I made myself do it. It didn’t work, but Selena must’ve thought I’d gone to sleep. I heard her moving around and I thought, Maybe she’s awake too and we can talk, so I opened my eyes. She was holding a phone – I could see the screen, lit up – and she was kind of curled over it, like she didn’t want anyone to see. She wasn’t texting, or reading messages; just holding it. Like she was waiting for it to do something.’

‘And that made you curious.’

Holly said, ‘There’d been something wrong with Lenie. She’s always really calm, no matter what. Peaceful. But the last while before that night, she’d been…’ Something rippling that cool, as she remembered. ‘She seemed like something terrible had happened to her. Half the time she looked like she’d been crying, or she was about to. We’d be talking to her and a minute later she’d go, “What?” like she hadn’t even heard us. She wasn’t OK.’

I was nodding along. ‘And you were worried about her.’

‘I was crazy worried. I figured nothing terrible could’ve happened at school, because we were all together all the time, we’d have known. Right?’ Wry twist to Holly’s mouth. ‘But at home, at the weekends – Selena’s parents are split up, and they’re both kind of weird. Her mum and her stepdad have these parties, and her actual dad lets weird hippie guys stay on his sofa… I thought something could’ve happened at one of their places.’

‘Did you talk to anyone about it? See if maybe Julia or Rebecca had any ideas?’

‘Yeah. I tried talking to Julia, but she just went, “Jesus, dial down the drama, everyone gets moods; like you don’t? Give her a week or two, she’ll be fine.” And then I tried Becca, but Becca can’t really handle stuff like that – anything being wrong with any of us. She got so freaked out that in the end I told her it had just been my imagination, to get her to calm down.’

Trying to sound like it was nothing. But something was blowing across Holly’s face, just a wisp; something rain-coloured, something flavoured with sadness and with missing the long-lost. It startled me. Made her look older again, made her look like she understood things.

I said, ‘And she believed you? She hadn’t noticed anything up with Selena?’

‘Nah. Becca’s… She’s innocent. She figures as long as we’ve got each other, we’re automatically OK. It wouldn’t’ve occurred to her that Selena might not be.’

‘So Julia and Rebecca were no help to you,’ I said. Watched that wisp flicker again. ‘Did you talk to Selena?’

Holly shook her head. ‘I tried. Lenie’s excellent at not having a conversation when she doesn’t feel like it. She just does this dreamy look, and splat, conversation’s dead. I barely even got as far as asking her what was wrong.’

‘So what did you do?’

Flash of impatience. ‘Nothing. Waited and kept an eye on her. What do you think I should’ve done?’

‘Haven’t a clue,’ I said peaceably. ‘So when you saw that phone, you figured it had something to do with whatever was bothering Selena?’

‘Well, I didn’t exactly have to be a hotshot detective for that. I kept my eyes like this’ – slit open – ‘and watched till she put it away. I couldn’t see where she put it exactly, but it was somewhere down the side of her bed. So the next day I made up some excuse to go to our room during school, and I found it.’

‘And read the texts.’

Holly’s crossed knee was bouncing. I was pissing her off. ‘Yeah. So? So would you have, if your friend was in that state.’

I said, ‘They must’ve been a shock.’

Eye-roll. ‘You think?’

‘Chris wouldn’t be the boyfriend I’d choose for my best mate.’

‘Obviously. Not unless your best mate liked them underage.’

Mackey was grinning, not bothering to hide it. I said, ‘So what did you do about it?’

Her chin went out. ‘Um, hello, same as before: what was I supposed to do? Get her a Chris voodoo doll and some pins? I’m not actually magic. I couldn’t wave my wand and make her feel all better.’

Sore spot. I pressed it. ‘You could’ve texted him to leave her alone. Or arranged to meet up with him, tell him face to face.’

Holly snorted. ‘Like that would’ve done any good. Chris didn’t even like me – he could tell I didn’t fall for his cute-little-puppy thing, which meant he was never going to get up my top, which meant I was a bitch and why would he bother even talking to me, never mind doing anything I asked him to?’

‘You, young one. No one gets up your top till you’re married.’ Mackey, from the windowsill.

I said, ‘I just can’t get my head round the idea that you did nothing. This guy’s making your best mate miserable, and you just went, “Ah, well, stuff happens, it’ll toughen her up”? Seriously?’

‘I didn’t know what to do! I feel like crap about it already, thanks very much, I don’t need you telling me what a shit friend I was.’

I said, ‘You could’ve talked to Julia and Rebecca, see if the three of you could come up with a plan together. That’s what I’d’ve expected you to do. If yous are as close as you say.’

‘I’d already tried. Remember? Becca got upset, Julia didn’t want to know. Probably I would’ve told Jules if Selena had been any worse, but it wasn’t like I thought she was going to kill herself over that wanker. She was just… unhappy. There was nothing any of us could do about that.’ Something blowing across Holly’s face again. ‘And she obviously really, like really didn’t want any of us knowing. If she’d found out that I knew, it would’ve just made her feel worse. So I acted like I didn’t.’

The thing was it wasn’t true, the little insomnia story, or not all the truth. I couldn’t risk a glance at Conway to see if she’d spotted the lie. There had been no name attached to Chris’s number, in Selena’s phone; no names in the texts. No way a skim through the phone could have told Holly who Selena was texting.

Maybe the lie was Mackey reflex, always keep some nugget to yourself in case it comes in useful later on. Maybe not.

Holly moved like she felt that cold-rain something fingering the back of her neck, trailing across her shoulders. Said, ‘I wasn’t just ignoring the whole thing. Back then, I thought the same as Becca: everything would be OK as long as we had each other. I thought, if we just stuck close to Lenie…’

‘Did it work? Did she seem like she was snapping out of it?’

Holly said, quietly, ‘No.’

I said, ‘That had to be scary. You’re used to dealing with everything together with your friends, the four of yous: no secrets. All of a sudden, you’re stuck dealing with this all on your own.’

Holly shrugged. ‘I survived.’

Trying hard for ice-cool, but that veil had wrapped her round. Those few days last spring had set things shifting, in the way the world looked to her. Left her lost, stripped raw in cold wind and no one’s hands finding hers.

That was when I knew: Conway wasn’t the only one who had Holly in her sights. Not any more.

‘Course you did,’ I said. ‘You’re well able; I know that from last time. But that doesn’t mean you don’t get scared. And being out on your own where your mates can’t help, that’s one of the scariest things around.’

Slowly her eyes came up, met mine. Startled and clear, like this was more than she’d expected from me. A tiny nod.

‘Hate to break up the little chat when it’s going so nicely,’ Mackey said lazily, swinging himself off the windowsill, ‘but I’m gasping for a smoke.’

‘You told Mum you’d quit,’ Holly said.

‘It’s been a long time since I had your mum fooled about anything. See you in a few, chickadee. If these nice detectives say a word to you, you just stick your fingers in your ears and sing them something pretty.’ And he headed off, left the door swinging open behind him. We heard his footsteps down the corridor, him whistling a perky tune.

Conway and I looked at each other. Holly watched us, under those enigmatic curves of eyelid.

I said, ‘I could do with some fresh air.’

In the foyer, the heavy wooden door was swinging wide. The rectangle of cold light spilling onto the chequerboard tiles was notched with a shadow that moved, one sharp flick, when my steps echoed. Mackey.

He was at the top of the steps, leaning against a column, smoke unlit between his fingers. His back was to me and he didn’t turn. Above him, the sky was a blue aimed for night; it was gone quarter past eight. Faint and delicate, arcing somewhere in the great stretches of dimming air out there, bats’ intent shrills and girls’ intent chatter.

When I came up beside Mackey he raised the smoke to his lips, glanced at me over the click of the lighter. ‘Since when do you smoke?’

‘Just needed some air.’ I loosened my collar, took a deep breath. The air tasted sweet and warm, night flowers opening.

‘And a chat.’

‘Long time no see.’

‘Kid. You’ll have to forgive me if I’m not in the mood for small talk.’

‘Nah, I know. I just wanted to say…’ The squirm was real, and the red face. ‘I know you’ve been… you know. Putting in the odd good word for me, along the way. I just wanted a chance to say thanks.’

‘Don’t thank me. Just don’t fuck up. I don’t like looking stupid.’

‘I’m not planning on fucking up.’

Mackey nodded and turned his shoulder to me. Smoked like it was fuel and he was going to get every last inch to the gallon.

I leaned against the wall, not too near. Tilted my face up to the sky, just chilling.

Said, ‘I’m dying to ask, man. How’d you pick out St Kilda’s?’

‘You figured I’d have Holly down the local community school?’

‘Something like that, yeah.’

‘The tennis court wasn’t up to my standards.’

Narrowing his eyes against the smoke. Only one corner of his mind was on me.

‘This place, but? When I saw it…’ I blew out a half-laugh. ‘Fuck me.’

‘It’s something, all right. You didn’t think I appreciated fine architecture?’

‘Just didn’t think it would be your scene. Rich kids. Holly living somewhere else most of the week.’

I waited. Nothing, just the rise and fall of his cigarette. I said, ‘You wanted to get Holly away from home, yeah? Too much teen drama? Or you didn’t like her mates?’

One corner of Mackey’s mind was more than enough. Wolf-curl to his mouth, slow click of his tongue. ‘Stephen, Stephen, Stephen. Here you were doing so well. All the working-man-to-working-man stuff, I was really feeling that. And then you went and got impatient, and you went straight back into cop mode. Is your daughter a problem teen, sir? Does your daughter have any undesirable associates, sir? Did you ever see any sign that your daughter was shaping up to be a cold-blooded killer, sir? And just like that, the nice little bond we were building up: gone. Rookie mistake, sunshine. You need to practise your patience.’

He lounged against the column, grinning at me, waiting to see what I’d come out with next. His eyes had turned alive; I had his attention now.

I said, ‘The school I can see, just about. Maybe Holly’s ma went here, or maybe your local community school’s a kip, Holly was getting bullied or offered drugs – most people’s principles go out the window when it’s their kid on the line. But boarding? Nah. I don’t see it.’

‘Always fuck with people’s expectations, sunshine. It’s good for their circulation.’

‘Last time we worked together, you and Holly’s ma were split up. Had been for a while, far as I could tell. You’ve already missed out on years of Holly, and now you send her off to boarding school so you can miss even more? It doesn’t fit.’

Mackey pointed his smoke at me. ‘That was cute, kid. “Last time we worked together”; like we’re working together now. I like that.’

‘You and Holly’s ma are back together, that’s your chance at being a family again. You wouldn’t miss out on that unless there was a good reason. Either Holly was acting up and you needed her somewhere strict to straighten her out, or she was getting into bad company and you wanted her well away from that.’

He was nodding away, doing a thinking face. ‘Not bad. It plays. Or maybe, just maybe, my wife and I felt we needed some time by ourselves to reconnect, after that whole nasty separation thing. Rekindle the romance. Us time, isn’t that what I’m meant to call it?’

I said, ‘You worship the bones of that girl. You’ve never wanted less time with her in her life.’

‘My attitude to family is a little quirky, kid. I assumed you’d gathered that, last time we worked together.’ Mackey tossed his smoke onto the lawn. ‘Maybe the chance to be an adorable nuclear unit doesn’t mean the same to me as it would to you. So sue me.’

I said, ‘If Holly was getting into trouble at home, we’ll find out.’

‘Good boy. I’d expect no less.’

‘I’m asking you to save us the time and hassle.’

‘No problem. The biggest trouble Holly ever got into was getting grounded for not tidying her room. Hope that helps.’

We’d be checking. Mackey knew it. ‘Thanks,’ I said. Nodded.

He was going in. I said, before his hand reached the door handle, ‘I’d still love to know. The boarding, man. Why? It doesn’t come cheap. Someone wanted it pretty bad.’

Him watching me, amused, the way he used to seven years back, big dog watching feisty puppy. Seven years is a long time.

‘I know it’s nothing to do with our case, but it’s going to keep at me. So I’m asking.’

Mackey said, ‘Out of curiosity. Man to man.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Bollix. You’re asking detective to suspect’s father.’

Unblinking, daring me to deny it: God, no,she’s not a suspect… I said, ‘I’m asking.’

Mackey examined me. Did some kind of maths behind his eyes.

He found his smokes again. Flipped one into the side of his mouth.

‘Let me ask you this,’ he said, through it. Cupped his hand around the flame. ‘Just offhand, how much time would you guess Holly spends with my side of the family?’

‘Not a lot.’

‘Good guess. She sees one of my sisters a couple of times a year. On Olivia’s side there’s a pair of Christmastime cousins, and there’s Olivia’s ma, who buys Holly designer shite and takes her to poncy restaurants. And, since Olivia and I were split up or splitting for most of the relevant time-frame, Holly’s an only child.’

He leaned back in the doorway, flicked the lighter and watched the flame. He was smoking this one differently, taking his time on every drag.

‘You were right about how we picked St Kilda’s – well done there: Olivia’s alma mater. And you were right about me not being into the boarding idea. Holly asked at the beginning of second year, I said over my dead body. She kept begging, I kept saying hell no, but in the end I asked why she wanted it so badly. Holly said it was because of her mates – Becca and Selena were boarding already, Julia was running the same campaign on her folks. The four of them wanted to be together.’

Flipped the lighter spinning into the air, caught it.

‘She’s smart, my girl Holly. The next few months, any day she had one of her mates over, she was a holy angel: helping around the house, doing her homework, never a complaint about anything, happy happy joy joy. When she wasn’t having a mate round, she was a raging pain in the hole. Trailing round the house like something out of an Italian opera, giving us these accusing lip-trembly stares; ask her to do anything and she’d burst into tears and fling herself into her room – don’t get overexcited there, Detective, they all throw drama fits, it’s not a sign of juvenile delinquency. But after a while, Liv and me were dreading the days it was just the three of us. Holly had us trained like a pair of German shepherds.’

‘Stubborn,’ I said. ‘Must get it from your wife.’

Wry sideways look. ‘Stubborn would’ve got her nowhere. If it was just that, I would’ve kept taking the piss out of her till she dropped the act; would’ve been a pleasure. But one evening Holly’s throwing a full-on teen-queen strop – I can’t even remember why, I think we’d said she couldn’t go over to Julia’s – and she yells, “They’re the only people I trust to be there no matter what. They’re like my sisters! Because of you guys, they’re the only sisters I’m ever going to have! And you’re keeping me away from them!” And off she ran upstairs, to slam her door and sob into her pillow about how unfair it all was.’

Another long drag on his ciggie. He tilted his head back, watched the stream of smoke spiral out between his teeth, up into the soft air.

‘But the thing was, the kid had a point. It’s a bitch when that happens. Family’s important. And Liv and I haven’t exactly done a bang-up job of providing Holly with one of those. If she’s doing a better job of making her own, who am I to stand in her way?’

Fuck me. I would’ve bet a few pints that Frank Mackey only knew the meaning of guilt from the outside: something that came in useful for arm-twisting other people. Holly had him twisted into a reef knot.

I said, ‘So you decided to let her go for it.’

‘So we decided she could try boarding during the week for one term, see how she got on. Now we’d have to hire a tow truck to drag her away. I don’t like it on principle, and I miss the little madam like hell, but like you said: when it’s your kid at stake, everything else goes out the window.’

Mackey slid his lighter back in his jeans pocket. ‘And there you go. A heart-to-heart with Uncle Frankie. Wasn’t that fun?’

It was true. Maybe the whole truth, maybe not, but true.

‘Does that answer all your questions?’

I said, ‘One left. I don’t get why you’d tell me all that.’

‘I’m establishing interdepartmental cooperation, Detective. Showing the love, in a professional kind of way.’ Mackey flicked his smoke onto the ground, crushed it out in one heel-twist. ‘After all,’ he said over his shoulder with a great big grin, as he pushed the door open, ‘we’re working together.’

Holly was sitting where we’d left her; Conway was at the window, hands in her pockets, looking down at the gardens. They hadn’t been talking. The air in the room, the fast turn from both of them when we came in, said they’d been listening hard to each other instead.

Mackey shifted his spot, keep us on our toes: sat on a table behind Holly, found himself a stray chunk of modelling clay to play with. I pulled Selena’s phone towards me. Turned the evidence bag in circles on the table, between my fingertips.

‘So,’ I said. ‘Let’s go back to this phone. You say you found it on the foyer floor, the morning after Chris died. Let’s stick with that for now. You’d seen Selena’s secret phone; you knew what it looked like. You had to know this was it.’

Holly shook her head. ‘I thought it was Alison’s. Selena kept hers down the side of her bed; how would it get to the foyer?’

‘You didn’t even ask her?’

‘No way. Like I told you, I didn’t want to get into that with her. If I even thought about it – and I don’t remember if I did – I would’ve figured, if it was somehow Selena’s phone, then she’d rather go get it out of the lost-and-found than have to talk about how I knew it was hers and all that crap.’

Smooth as butter. No one, not even Frank Mackey’s kid, comes up with that kind of good stuff off the top of her head. Holly had been thinking this through, stuck in that common room with wild things zapping the air. Methodically going through everything we could know, working out her answers.

Some innocent people would do that. Not a lot.

‘Makes sense,’ I said. Behind Holly, Mackey had flattened the clay into a disc, was trying to spin it on his finger. ‘Here’s the thing, but. The way our witness tells the story, you didn’t find the phone in the foyer. You had it tucked down your waistband, wrapped in a tissue.’

Holly’s eyebrows pulling together, baffled. ‘No I didn’t. I mean, I might’ve had a tissue in my hand, everyone was crying–’

‘You didn’t like Chris. And you’re not the type to fake a crying fit for someone you didn’t like.’

‘I never said I was crying. I wasn’t. I’m saying I might have been giving someone else a tissue, I don’t remember. But I do know the phone was on the floor.’

I said, ‘I think you took Selena’s phone out from behind her bed and found a good way to ditch it. The lost-and-found bin, that was smart. It worked well. It almost worked for good.’

Holly’s mouth opened, but I held up my hand. ‘Hang on a sec. Let me finish first, before you tell me if I’m right or wrong. You knew there was a chance we’d search the school. You knew if we found the phone, we’d be talking to Selena. You knew what police questioning is like; let’s face it, there’s better ways to spend your day. You didn’t want Selena put through that, not when she was already traumatised about Chris’s death. So you binned the phone. Does that sound about right?’

It was an out: an innocent reason why she would have wanted the phone gone. Never take the out. It looks safe as houses. It takes you a step closer to where we want you.

Mackey said, without glancing up from his new toy, ‘You don’t have to answer that.’

I said, ‘No reason why you shouldn’t. You think we’re going to press charges against a minor for concealing something that might not even be evidence? We’ve got a lot more on our minds. Your da can tell you himself, Holly: if you’re after something big, you’re happy to let the small stuff slide. This is small stuff. But we need to clear it up.’

Holly watched me, not her dad. Thought, or I thought she did, about that moment when she had seen me understand.

She said, ‘Selena didn’t kill Chris. No way. I never worried that she did, not even for a second. She doesn’t work like that.’ Straight-backed, straight-eyed, trying to shove it into my head. ‘I know you’re thinking Yeah, right. But I’m not just being naïve. I know with most people you don’t have a clue what they’re capable of. I know that.’

Mackey’s piece of clay had gone still. It was true: Holly did know that.

‘But with Selena I do. She wouldn’t have hurt Chris. Ever. I swear to God, it’s totally impossible.’

I said, ‘Probably you’d have sworn to God that she wouldn’t go out with Chris, either.’

Twitch of impatience, I was losing cred again. ‘Like that’s the same thing? Come on. Anyway, I don’t expect you to just take my word about what kind of person she is. She actually physically couldn’t have done it. Like I told you, sometimes I can’t sleep. The night Chris died, I was having trouble sleeping. If Selena had gone out, I would’ve known.’

It was a lie, but I left it. I said, ‘So you ditched the phone.’

Not a blush on Holly, while she dumped the story she’d told me, all sincerity, about five minutes earlier; not a blink. Daddy’s girl. ‘Yeah. So? If you knew that your friend was about to get in trouble for something she definitely hadn’t even done, you mean you wouldn’t try and get her out of it?’

I said, ‘I would, yeah. It’s only natural.’

‘Exactly. Anybody would, who has any kind of loyalty. So yeah, I did.’

I said, ‘Thanks. That clears that up. Except for one thing. When did you get the phone out of your room?’

Holly’s face went still. ‘What?’

‘The only thing that’s confusing me. Chris’s body was found at what time?’

‘Little after seven-thirty a.m.,’ Conway said. Quietly, staying invisible. I was doing all right.

‘And the assembly was when?’

Holly shrugged. ‘I don’t remember. Before lunch. Noon?’

I said, ‘Did you have morning classes? Or did you get sent back to your rooms?’

‘Classes. Well. Sort of. No one was paying any attention, even the teachers, but we still had to sit in the classrooms and act like we cared.’

‘So maybe you started hearing rumours around breakfast,’ I said. ‘At that stage it would’ve been just general stuff, police on the grounds; probably everyone thought it was about the groundskeeper who was dealing. Maybe a bit later, if someone saw the morgue van arriving and knew what it was, there might’ve been some talk about a dead person, but there’s no way yous could’ve known who it was. When was Chris ID’d?’

‘Half-eightish,’ Conway said. ‘McKenna thought he looked familiar, rang up Colm’s to see if they were missing anyone.’

I balanced the evidence bag on one end, caught it when it fell. ‘So by noon, Chris’s immediate family would’ve been notified, but we wouldn’t have released his name to the media, not till the family got the chance to tell everyone who needed to know. You couldn’t have heard it on the radio. The assembly had to be the first time you heard what had happened, and who the victim was.’

‘Yeah. So?’

‘So how did you know this phone could get Selena in trouble, in time to go get it before the assembly?’

Holly didn’t miss a beat. ‘We were all watching out the windows, every chance we got – the teachers kept telling us not to, but yeah, right. We saw uniforms and Technical Bureau guys, so I knew there’d been a crime, and then we saw Father Niall from Colm’s – he’s like eight feet tall and he looks like Voldemort and he wears the robe, so it’s not like you could get him mixed up for anyone else. So obviously something had to have happened to a Colm’s boy. And Chris was the only one who I knew had been wandering around the grounds at night. So I guessed it had to be him.’

Little cock of her eyebrow to me, as she finished up. Like a middle finger.

I said, ‘But you thought he and Selena had broken up. And you say you knew she hadn’t been out that night, so it’s not like you thought they’d got back together. What would Chris have been doing at Kilda’s?’

‘He could’ve got together with someone else. He wasn’t exactly the deep type who’d spend months pining away for his lost true love. Him and Selena had been broken up for at least ten minutes; I’d’ve been amazed if he hadn’t found someone else. And, like I said, he was the only one who I knew could get out of Colm’s. I wasn’t going to wait around till we found out for sure. I said I needed something from our room, I don’t even remember what, and I got the phone.’

‘What did you figure would happen when Selena noticed it was gone? Specially if it turned out you were wrong, and Chris wasn’t dead after all?’

Holly shrugged. ‘I figured I’d deal with that if it happened.’

‘At that point, you were just focusing on protecting your mate.’

‘Yeah.’

I said, ‘How far would you go to protect your mates?’

Mackey moved. He said, ‘That’s gibberish. She can’t answer a question unless it means something.’

Conway said, not invisible any more, ‘We’re interviewing her. Not you.’

‘You’re getting two for the price of one. You don’t like it, tough shit. No one’s under arrest; piss either of us off, and we’ll walk.’

‘Dad,’ Holly said. ‘I’m OK.’

‘I know you are. That’s why we’re still here. Detective Moran, if you’ve got a specific question in there, ask it. If all you’ve got is the tag line for some teenybopper summer film, let’s move on.’

I said, ‘Specifically, Holly: Selena didn’t tell the rest of yous that she was seeing Chris. Why do you think that was?’

Holly said coolly, ‘Because we didn’t like him. I mean, Becca would’ve probably been fine with it – she thought Chris was OK; like I said, she’s innocent. But Julia and I would’ve been like, “Are you serious? He’s an enormous tool, he thinks he’s this big playa, he’s probably three-timing you, what is wrong with you?” Selena doesn’t like arguments – specially not with Julia, because Julia never ever backs down. I can totally see where Lenie would’ve been like, “Oh, I’ll tell them in a while, when I’m sure it’s going somewhere, meanwhile I’ll just try and get them to see he might not be a total prick after all, it’ll all turn out fine in the end…” She’d still be doing that now, if they hadn’t broken up. And if he hadn’t died, obviously.’

Something off there, just a notch. I wasn’t one of Selena’s best mates, what did I know, but all the same: the flinch, when she remembered leaving her best mates behind, sleeping and lied-to. That had hurt. She didn’t seem like the type to do it for half a reason. Weather the argument and wait, gazing peacefully, let Julia storm herself out and Holly roll her eyes. Not squirm away, slice the others out of that crucial piece of her, just because they didn’t fancy hers much.

Why lie about that?

I said, ‘So you figure she didn’t tell you because she knew you’d want to protect her.’

‘If that’s how you want to say it. Whatever.’

Mackey, still pinching that clay about, still lounging, but watching me now, eyes hooded. I said, ‘But she was wrong. When you actually found out, you didn’t feel any need to protect her after all, no?’

Holly shrugged. ‘From what? They were over. Happy ending.’

‘Happy ending,’ I said. ‘Only then Chris died. And you still didn’t tell Selena you knew. Why not? You had to figure she was devastated. You didn’t think she could use a bit of protecting then? A shoulder to cry on, maybe?’

Holly threw herself back in the chair, fists clenching, so sudden I jumped. ‘OhmyGod, I didn’t know what she needed! I thought maybe she just wanted to be left alone, I thought if I said anything she’d be raging with me, I thought about it all the time and I couldn’t work out what to do for her. Because I’m crap or whatever you’re trying to say, yeah, you’re right. OK? Just leave me alone.’

I saw the little kid I remembered, furious with bafflement, red-faced and table-kicking. Behind her, Mackey’s eyes closed for a second: she hadn’t come to him. Then opened again. Stayed on me.

I said, ‘Your friendships: those mean a lot to you. Keeping them strong means a lot. Amn’t I right?’

‘Duh. So?’

‘So that little prick Chris was after wrecking them. The four of you weren’t acting like friends – Jesus, Holly, no you weren’t. Selena’s in love and doesn’t even tell the rest of you. You’re spying on her, but you don’t mention that to the other two. Selena gets dumped flat on her arse, her first love gets killed, and you don’t even give the poor girl a hug. Is that how you think friends act? Seriously?’

Good cop, Conway had said. In the corner of my eye I could see her leaning back in her chair, fake-easy, ready.

Holly snapped, ‘Me and my friends are none of your business. You don’t have a clue about us.’

‘I know they’re the most important things you’ve got. You burst your bollix getting your da and ma to let you board here, because of the three of them. You hung your whole life on your friends.’ My voice shoving at her, harder and harder. I couldn’t tell why: prove to Conway I wasn’t the Mackeys’ bitch, prove it to the Mackeys, get back at Holly for thinking she could waltz in with her postcard and fold me into origami, get back at her for being right– ‘And then Chris came on the scene, and the four of yous went to pieces. Split apart, went to crumbs, easy as that–’

Holly was shooting sparks like an arc welder. ‘We did not. We’re fine.’

‘Someone wrecked me and my mates like that, I’d hate his guts. Anyone would, except a holy angel of God. You’re a good young one, but unless you’ve changed a load in the last few years, you’re no angel. Are you?’

‘I never said I was.’

‘So how much did you hate Chris?’

Mackey said, ‘Aaand scene. Smoke break.’

Mackey never minded being obvious, so long as you couldn’t stop him. ‘Filthy habit,’ he said, sliding off the table and giving us a great big grin. ‘Need some more fresh air, young Stephen?’

Conway said, ‘You just had a smoke.’

Mackey’s eyebrow went up. He outranked the pair of us put together. ‘I want to talk to Detective Moran behind your back, Detective Conway. Was that not clear enough, no?’

‘I got that, yeah. You can do it in a minute.’

Mackey rolled his clay into a ball, tossed it to Holly. ‘Here you go, chickadee. Play with that. Don’t be making anything that’ll shock the detective; she looks like the pure-minded type.’

To me: ‘Coming?’ And he strolled out. Holly smashed the ball of clay flat on the table, viciously, with the heel of her hand.

I looked at Conway. She looked back. I went.

Mackey didn’t wait for me. I watched him take the stairs a flight ahead of me, all the way down those long curves, watched him cross the hall. That dimness, that angle, he looked sinister, someone I didn’t know and shouldn’t be following, not that fast.

When I got to the door, he was leaning back against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He hadn’t bothered to light a smoke.

He said, ‘I’m bored of playing games. You and Conway didn’t get me out here because of professional courtesy. You got me out here because you need an appropriate adult. Because Holly’s a suspect in the murder of Christopher Harper.’

I said, ‘If you’d rather go back to HQ, get all this on video, we can do that.’

‘If I wanted to be somewhere else, we would be. What I want is for you to quit bullshitting me.’

I said, ‘We think it’s possible that Holly was involved in some capacity.’

Mackey squinted past me, at the treeline ringing that sweep of grass. He said, ‘I’m a little surprised I need to point this out to you, sunshine, but what the hell, let’s play. You’re describing someone who’s too thick to get her shoes on the right feet. Holly may be a lot of things, but she’s not stupid.’

‘I know she’s not.’

‘Yeah? Then let’s just make sure I’ve got the theory straight. According to you, Holly’s committed murder and got clean away with it. The Murder lads have done their little dance, got nowhere and buggered off. And now – a year later, when everyone’s given up and moved on – Holly brings you that card. She deliberately drags the Murder boys back in. Deliberately puts herself in the spotlight. Deliberately points them towards a witness who can lock her up.’ Mackey hadn’t moved from the wall, but he was looking at me now, all right. Those blue eyes, hot enough to brand you. ‘Talk to me, Detective. Tell me how that works, unless she’s the level of moron that would make the baby Jesus swear. Am I missing something here? Are you just fucking with my head to prove you’re a big boy now and I’m not the boss of you any more? Or are you honest to God standing there with a straight face and trying to tell me that makes one fucking iota of sense?’

I said, ‘I don’t think for a second that Holly’s thick. I think she’s using us to do her dirty work.’

‘I’m all ears.’

‘She found that card and she needs to know who made it. She’s narrowed it down, the same way we did, but that’s where she’s stuck. So she pulls us in to stir things up a bit, see who pops to the surface.’

Mackey pretended to think that over. ‘I like it. Not a lot, but I like it. She’s got no problem with the idea of us actually finding the witness and getting the goods, no? Landing in jail would just be a minor annoyance?’

‘She doesn’t think she’ll land in jail. That means she knows the card girl won’t rat her out. Either she knows it’s one of her own, and Joanne Heffernan’s bunch got mixed in along the way – by accident, or because Holly figured she might as well find out if they had any info while she was at it, since they were getting out at night as well, or because she just liked the idea of giving them a scare. Or else she’s got some hold over Heffernan’s lot.’

Mackey’s eyebrow was up. ‘I said she’s not thick, kid. I didn’t say she was Professor fucking Moriarty.’

I said, ‘Tell me that doesn’t sound like something you would do.’

‘I might well. I’m a pro. I’m not a naïve teenage kid whose entire experience of criminal behaviour is one unfortunate encounter seven years back. I’m flattered that you think I’ve raised some kind of evil genius, but you might want to save a little of that imagination for your online warcrafting time.’

I said, ‘So is Holly a pro. So are all of them. If I’ve learned one thing today, it’s that teenage girls make Moriarty look like a babe in the woods.’

Mackey gave me that with a tilt of his chin. Thought. ‘So,’ he said. ‘In this pretty little story, Holly knows the card girl won’t dob her in, but she’s still willing to take major risks to find out who it is. Why?’

‘If that was you,’ I said. ‘Starting to think about leaving school. Starting to realise that you and your friends are going to be heading out into the big wide world; this, what you’ve got now, it’s not going to last forever, you’re not always going to be bestest mates who’d die sooner than dob each other in. Would you want to leave a witness out there?’

I expected a punch, maybe. Got a startled snort of laughter that even sounded real. ‘Jesus, kid! Now she’s a serial killer? You want to check her alibi on the OJ case, too?’

I didn’t know how to say it, what I’d seen in Holly. Things turning solid, the world widening in front of her eyes. Dreams shifting to real, and the other way round, like a drawing sliding from charcoal to oil in front of your eyes. Words changing shape, meanings slipping.

I said, ‘Not a serial killer. Just someone who didn’t realise what she was starting.’

‘She’s not the only one. You’ve already got a bit of a name for – how do they put it? – not being a team player. Personally, I don’t think that’s necessarily a bad thing, but not everyone agrees with me. You go another step down that road, and plenty of people won’t want to know you. And believe me, pal: arresting a cop’s kid does not count as being a team player. You do that, you can wave bye-bye to your shot at Murder or Undercover. For good.’

He wasn’t bothering to be subtle about it. I said, ‘Only if I’m wrong.’

‘You think?’

‘Yeah. I do. We solve this, and I’m at the top of the queue for Murder. Everyone might hate my guts, but I’ll get my shot.’

‘At working there, maybe. For a little while. Not at being one of them.’

Mackey watching me. He’s good, Mackey; he’s the finest. Finger straight on the bruise, pressing just hard enough.

I said, ‘I’ll settle for working there. I’ve got enough buddies to last me.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Well,’ Mackey said. He shot his cuff, checked his watch. ‘Better not keep Detective Conway waiting any longer. She’s not too happy about you coming out for private chats with me.’

‘She’s grand.’

‘Come here,’ Mackey said. Beckoned. Waited.

In the end I moved in.

He cupped a hand round the back of my neck. Gentle. Intent blue eyes, inches from mine. ‘If you’re right,’ he said – no threat there, not scaring me, just telling me – ‘I’m going to kill you.’

He gave the back of my head a double pat. Smiled. Moved off, into the high-arched dark of the hall.

That was when I realised: Mackey thought all of this was his fault. He thought he had put today in Holly’s blood. Mackey thought I was right.