The Doll's House

‘Well, he isn’t going to be a whole lot of help to us now, is he, Kate?’


‘No, but if the victim was still alive when they arrived at the canal, and the killer didn’t make any attempt to hide his identity in such a public place, it means something.’

‘What? That he panicked?’

‘Perhaps he did panic, but it’s unlikely that even a panicked killer would choose a public place, unless, of course, he had something else on his mind.’

‘Jesus, you’re beginning to sound like Morrison. Spit it out, Kate.’

‘Maybe the killer not only wanted his victim to see him, but others too. Either that or the risk of being caught was outweighed by other, more important factors. I assume I’m in on this one, O’Connor?’

‘You assume right. How are you fixed?’

‘A couple of important cases, but I can work around them.’

‘Good – I’ll see you shortly. We’re below Leeson Street Bridge.’

‘I know where it is. You’ve organised the clearance?’

‘Don’t ask stupid questions, Kate. I don’t have the patience for them.’

‘Neither do I. I’m on my way.’

‘Kate.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Keith Jenkins’s body is already on its way to the morgue.’

‘Then I’ll need the images taken at the scene.’

‘Consider it done.’

As Kate drove away from her apartment in Ranelagh village, the thing uppermost in her mind was not the victim’s celebrity status, or the slimy waters where his body had been found, but why the killer hadn’t finished off Keith Jenkins with the first attack. Why bring a half-dying man to the canal to drown him, leaving his body where it was easily found?





Clodagh


During the night I awoke because the pipes were gurgling – Martin washing his hands for the umpteenth time. At one point I thought I heard a car turning into the drive, but I must have imagined it. It was the morning seagulls that finally got me up.

I’ve waited all morning for Val’s call. So, when the phone rings I pick it up immediately, recognising her mobile number on the small screen.

‘Clodagh, it’s Val.’ She sounds like she’s whispering.

‘Do you have the number?’ I keep my voice steady. It seems like forever since the dinner party. We finally finished before nine. That wouldn’t have happened in my drinking days. Val hadn’t expected me to take her aside – we’d never got past first base in our relationship – but when you need to know something, unexpected people become your ally.

‘Clodagh, I’m not sure about this.’

‘Don’t worry. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.’ My voice is upbeat.

‘That’s all very well, Clodagh, but after the therapy and everything …’

‘It’s precisely because of the therapy that I’m doing this.’ I sound more assured than I feel. There’s no point in making her nervy.

‘Well, he does come highly recommended.’

‘I’m sure he does.’

‘Does Martin know about this, Clodagh?’

‘What do you think?’ Her silence answers her question. ‘Val, hold on while I get a pen and paper.’ I place the handset on the hall table, pulling out the small drawer underneath. Then, with the phone between my ear and shoulder, I write down the name, address and phone number.

‘I can drive you there,’ she says. ‘I don’t mind.’

‘Thanks, Val. I’m best going on my own.’

‘But you’re not allowed to drive.’

‘There’s such a thing as taxis.’ Immediately I regret sounding harsh. I soften my voice: ‘I don’t want to drag you into this, Val. I appreciate your help.’

‘Well, if you’re sure.’

I think about the night I crashed the car. The road before me was like a runway being chopped up with speed and heavy rain. I was drunk out of my skull. I remember the windscreen wipers flipping back and forth so fast they dazzled me. ‘I’m sure, Val, honestly.’

‘It’s a mercy no one was injured that night, Clodagh.’ The first note of disapproval in her voice.

‘I know that.’

All the times I drank, I never drove at night. But the argument with Dominic, even days after the funeral, wouldn’t go away. I still see the dark trees either side of the road whizzing past me, giving me a false sense of getting away. The faster I drove, the freer I could be of the hurt.

Martin had said it was the last straw. I couldn’t be putting myself and others at risk. At first, waking up on the hard bed in the police cell, all I remembered was the flashing lights of the squad cars hurting my eyes from the night before. Martin collected me. He said little more, but he organised everything. Eight weeks of rehab to sort me out. A twelve-month driving ban wasn’t a high price to pay.

‘Val, you won’t say a word to Martin or Dominic, will you?’ I need her reassurance.

‘You’re not drinking again, Clodagh, are you?’

‘No. I’m done running away from things.’

‘Glad to hear it.’

‘Listen, Val, I’ve got to go. There’s another call coming in. I think it’s Ruby.’

‘Okay, then. Give her my love.’