KATE COULD SEE THE TOP OF CHARLIE’S SPIKY BLACK HAIR in the rear-view mirror, but she could also see William Cronly’s face. O’Connor had been right; Amy Brady’s killing was connected to the Dublin murders. She needed to work this out. She needed time.
‘Where are we going, William?’
‘Pull out nicely, Kate and head for the N11. We’re going on a little trip to Wexford. ’
She could hear Charlie whimpering in the back. Her heart was thumping, a passing car blared her out of it as she tried to pull out too fast.
‘Relax, Kate. Charlie is going to be just fine.’ He smiled.
She drew breath. If he touched or harmed Charlie, she would kill him with her bare hands. She knew that. But she also knew she had to remain calm, for Charlie’s sake as much as her own. She couldn’t lose it now. What did he want with them? Despite the knife, he was behaving as if they were just going on any old day trip, as if the most pressing concern to him was all of them being nice to each other.
‘Why don’t you drive, William? You know where we’re going. You must know the way better than I do.’
‘No, no. I’ll stay back here with Charlie. It’s very straightforward Kate, just take the same road you use to visit your lovely mother, Gabriel.’
‘My mother?’ She made her voice remain calm, while her hands gripped the steering wheel, her heart pounding. She clicked on the indicator, ready to pull out from the kerb, this time checking more carefully for traffic, finding it hard to focus, willing herself to be calm.
‘It’s fine, Kate. Don’t fret. Gabriel is doing okay.’
He knew her mother’s name. She had no way of knowing if her mother was okay. But Charlie’s whimpering in the back was getting louder. He was crying and scared. If the two of them were going to get out of there, no matter how the hell she was going to do it, she needed to concentrate and stop panicking.
‘That’s the girl. You’re doing great. I knew you would be marvellous.’
‘Charlie, it’s okay. Mommy is just going to drive for a little while.’
‘Charlie understands, don’t you, Charlie?’ Kate watched as Charlie shook his head, frantic, the way he did when he was overtired or distressed. Shit, shit, shit, she thought.
‘Now, Charlie, you don’t want to make me cross. It’s not nice to disagree, a little boy like you, so lucky having such a loving mommy. Although we can’t forget Daddy, can we? Where is Daddy, Kate?’
She had to think.
‘He’s at work.’
‘He wasn’t at work last night. You don’t have to lie to me, Kate. I know he’s gone. I saw the suitcase.’
Kate caught his stare in the rear-view mirror. This was worse than she thought. How the hell did William Cronly know so much about her?
‘Don’t look like that, Kate. You’re better off without him. He was never going to be good enough for someone of your calibre.’
She needed to establish a rapport. Right now, all she could do was keep talking and keep using his name. ‘Why do you say that, William?’
‘Don’t be modest, Kate. Your drive, your dedication to your work, your intelligence, the way you applied yourself to finding out so much about me. I’ve seen you out running. I can recognise someone with discipline and determination. Every fibre of your body, every expression on your face tells me how hard you push yourself. It is a good thing Declan has gone. It gives us time to work things out together. You do understand, I hope, that I couldn’t help what happened to Caroline or Amelia?’
Running, he’d seen her out running. His face had looked familiar, but she couldn’t place where she had seen him. Eighty per cent of women know their killer. He’d been with her mother. He knew Declan had left. He knew she was upset. He had watched her. In her head, she could hear her own voice talking to O’Connor: ‘He’ll latch on to someone, someone familiar to him, someone who got his attention, someone he admires.’
‘I understand, William.’
‘Good. That pleases me.’
Everything was shooting around in her head, what he knew about her, what she knew about him, and the full extent of her situation – and Charlie’s – became clearer by the second. She was the progression. She was the next choice, and the process was already well in motion. She knew that if she let him doubt her, he would kill them both. What could she use to manipulate him? His intelligence? He had mentioned her running – should she talk about physical dexterity, his planning, boost his ego? He took comfort in routine and repeat behaviour. He was looking for friendship, someone to be close to.
‘William, why don’t you tell me about Silvia?’