A Savage Hunger (Paula Maguire 4) (26 page)

BOOK: A Savage Hunger (Paula Maguire 4)
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Chapter Forty-One

 

Night was falling as they reached Oakdale College. In the dark, the lake looked like an open eye, white with moonlight. The boathouse was a smear of black against it. Corry had drawn her gun. ‘Should we not ring again for back-up?’ whispered Paula.

‘Peter can’t be that dangerous. He’s no access to weapons, and he won’t be expecting us.’ But still, a pulse of fear beat between them.

Paula hung back. As a civilian, she didn’t have the regulation firearm PSNI officers held. ‘What’s your advice?’ asked Corry. In her black clothes, only her fair hair stood out in the dark. Gerard was dressed the same. He moved from foot to foot, and no wonder – his girlfriend was maybe in there with Peter.

‘I think he could be dangerous,’ said Paula. ‘Any of them could, if they’re pushed far enough. So – be careful. Try not to make him feel threatened, if he’s even here.’

There was no sign of any life round the lake. The boathouse was almost hidden beneath trees. Weeping willows, trailing their hair in the water like mourning women. Corry put a finger to her lips, indicated Gerard should approach the door while she took back-up. Paula, watching from further up the lakeside, saw them move through the trees, shadows in their dark clothes, until they were on the path with a very slight crunch underfoot, and almost at the door and . . .

‘Jesus!’ She jumped suddenly, stifling a scream as a hand clasped her arm. ‘You scared me!’

Guy was also zipped up in a black raincoat. ‘I thought I’d better come. The TSG are at the gates.’

‘But Willis—’

‘Screw him. I wasn’t going to let you go in here without back-up just because Willis can’t see what’s obvious. Any sign of Franks or Avril?’

Paula shook her head. ‘Not yet. He hopefully hasn’t hurt her.’ She didn’t want to say it, but the word
yet
was in her mind.

He stood back, and she felt the radiated warmth of his body. Wanted to tuck her head under his chin, where she knew it fitted exactly, and have him tell her it was all going to be all right, Avril would be fine and Alice would turn up safe and the inconvenient fact that Paula’s fiancé was in prison could all be sorted out. She stayed where she was.

He nodded towards the lake. ‘They’re going in.’

In a swift motion, Gerard had kicked the door open, followed by Corry with her gun aloft. Paula tensed, and felt Guy do the same. It was just Peter, she told herself. Dangerous against helpless, drugged women, but not with guns pointed at him. Sure enough, there was a sound of raised voices, and Gerard came out soon after, Avril scooped in his arms. She was limp, head lolling. From the lake shore, Gerard shouted something: ‘. . . ambulance!’

Guy got out his phone and spoke rapidly into it. ‘We’ve located Constable Wright. She appears unhurt but unconscious – they’re on their way? Good.’ He put a hand on Paula’s arm. ‘Don’t worry. She’ll be fine.’

‘Where’s Peter?’ said Paula.

Because it wasn’t him who Corry was leading out of the boathouse in handcuffs, swearing and fighting. It was Katy.

‘I don’t understand,’ said Guy.

But Paula did. Too late, she saw it. ‘Katy. It was Katy gave Avril the drugs. She was never with Peter at all.’

‘But that doesn’t—’

Then, suddenly, Corry cried out, and stumbled. Gerard froze. There was a clatter as her gun fell to the ground and Gerard was shouting, Avril still in his arms, fumbling for his own firearm: ‘It’s Healy! It’s Healy!’

Dermot was on the path. The moonlight gleamed off his glasses. Somehow, he had Corry’s gun and was holding her by the arm. She gave a smothered yell – was he stronger than he looked? He cleared his throat. ‘I know you’re up there. Come down. I’ve got her gun.’

It was pointing now at Corry’s head. She had gone very still. Katy was straining on her cuffs. ‘What the hell, Derm—’

‘Shut up,’ said Dermot. ‘I’m done listening to you and your dumbass ideas. You and fucking Peter – you ruined the whole thing. You couldn’t just act normal.’

‘I just . . . I . . .’

‘Of course the police were on to us. You and your stupid lies. Of course they wouldn’t believe Peter was your boyfriend.’

Katy spat at him. ‘You were the ones who raped her! Why do you think she ran away? And now we’re all in trouble. I’m just trying to do something about it.’

Dermot waved the gun at Avril, who seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness. ‘She’s a fucking cop, your mate there. And I bet you told her all about how Alice wouldn’t talk to you any more, how she was so upset by what the bad boys did. Poor little Katy. Because it’s all about you, isn’t it?’

‘Shut up! What do you mean, she’s a cop?’

Paula and Guy were still frozen on the path. He’d put up a hand to stop her moving when Dermot appeared. She waited. Corry tried to twist herself from Dermot. ‘Look, there’s an operation in progress here. Don’t do anything stupid. Dermot – Katy – it doesn’t have to happen like this. Just put the gun down, Dermot.’

For a moment it looked as if he might. He began to lower it slightly, move it away from Corry, and the tension calmed just for a second – until they heard footsteps on the gravel path.

Dermot put the gun up again. ‘Who’s that? Fucking answer!’

‘Dermot?’ said Peter, who was coming along the path. He held a paper cup in one hand, and looked totally nonplussed. ‘Dude. What’s going on?’

‘You tell me.’ Dermot’s voice shook. ‘Why the fuck are the police here? Did you tell them anything?’

‘Mate, I don’t know what’s going on. Katy told me to come here.’

‘Fucking Katy. Not surprising, is it?’

Peter still looked confused. ‘I don’t get it. What’s going on?’

Dermot gave a trembling sigh. ‘Think about it. Katy’s given the cop girl something. So if anyone comes they’ll find you here, and her out of it – how do you think that looks? I think Katy’s trying to drop us both in it.
Mate
.’

‘Dermot!’ said Katy. ‘I wasn’t, I swear! I was trying to
help
! I even gave him an alibi – and all you do is shut me out, both of you. You wouldn’t tell me anything!’

‘Just shut up, will you? Just shut the fuck up.’

Guy signalled to Paula to hide by the trees – it was possible Dermot hadn’t seen how many of them were there, in the dark. He called, ‘Now Dermot, let’s keep calm—’

‘You shut up. Come down here.’ He looked up. ‘Both of you. I know that woman’s there as well.’

Guy grasped Paula’s hand; she let him. His skin felt warm, the pulse beating under the skin. She thought of Maggie, safely at home with PJ and Pat. She’d been in worse scrapes than this, she told herself. Dermot was no killer, just an angry boy. As they went down the grassy slope towards him, she could see his eyes were huge, shiny in the dark. OK, so he was an angry boy who’d taken something. Corry met Paula’s gaze, shook her head slightly. Annoyed with herself, maybe, for being caught off guard.

Gerard had half-put Avril down, holding his own gun. Avril’s eyes rolled, and she muttered to herself. ‘Come on, son,’ said Gerard, his voice reasonable. ‘Do you even know how to use that thing?’

‘I know enough.’ Dermot’s hands shook. He was holding the gun in both of them now, like a gangster.

‘What do you want, Dermot?’ asked Corry, also reasonable. ‘We came here to stop your friend assaulting a woman—’

‘He’s not my friend,’ snapped Dermot. ‘And you were right. He’s done it before. He rapes people.’

‘Well, yes, we know that.’

‘But
I
didn’t. I didn’t rape Alice.’

‘Course you fucking did,’ said Peter. ‘You were there. You had a go.’

Dermot had started to cry. ‘I thought she liked me. I thought she wanted to. Then she said it was rape. She went to the principal!’

‘Well, Alice is fucked in the head, she’d say anything. She probably killed herself. She probably just went off somewhere and—’

Dermot laughed. A short, bitter sound, cracking on the edges. ‘Mate, you’ve no idea. She didn’t kill herself. Those messages, all the WhatsApping – with Katy? Wasn’t Katy. She doesn’t even have WhatsApp. Alice had her phone. Remember she lost it way back? It took me ages to figure it out. Stupid. I could have just looked at Find my Friends. Katy never turned it off. Would have led us straight to Alice. It was her the whole time.’

‘Fuck, no way. I don’t believe it.’

Katy was crying. ‘It wasn’t me! I don’t know anything, I don’t understand what’s going on.’

‘It’s true. Alice hated us. She – she did all this to try and fuck with us.’ Dermot’s voice broke. ‘But I’m not a rapist. I’m not like you. And I’m not a killer – I saw what they said about me on the news. I never hurt Alice and I can prove it. Once I figured out about the stupid phone, it was easy.’ He took a step back, looking up at the thicket of trees. ‘Come out. Show them.’ Nothing. His voice cracked. ‘You
promised
!’

The bushes moved aside, and into a patch of moonlight stepped a girl. Jeans, an Oakdale hoody. Dark hair, cut short. Paula held her breath. She had seen this girl before.

The girl did an ironic smile. ‘Surprise!’

‘Alice?’ said Corry uncertainly. ‘Is it . . . Alice Morgan?’

‘Yep. I hear you’ve been looking for me. Fuck’s sake, Dermot. A gun? What’s with the dramatics?’

‘Shut up! This is all your fault. All this – setting us up. Making it look like we – hurt you.’

‘You did hurt me,’ she said calmly, stuffing her hands in the pocket of her hoody. ‘You and Peter and Katy too. You raped me.’

Katy howled. ‘Alice! I never did anything! How could I?’

Alice shot Katy a look of pure hatred. ‘You were there, weren’t you? Don’t think I don’t remember what you did. All of you.’

Dermot was crying. ‘I didn’t! I’m not a rapist . . . I thought you wanted—’

‘You can’t want it when you’re off your face.’ She glanced at Avril. Gerard was still trying to support her, while keeping his gun on Dermot. ‘You should know that. It’s pretty fucking obvious. If you’re not awake you can’t consent.’

‘I never . . . You said it was OK! When I fixed your phone, you said we were cool!’

‘Well, we weren’t. You hurt me.’ Her voice rang out. Paula could hardly believe it was Alice, after all this time looking for her. Not so ethereal, not so tiny, but pretty all the same, her skin luminous under the scrappy dyed hair. Her face animated, alive, when they’d been imagining it dead, buried somewhere in a wood, soil kicked over it. Alive, but twisted in one emotion – pure rage. Then she realised – it was the girl from the search. In Donegal. She’d spoken to Alice, seen her alive, and not even known it.

‘I was a virgin,’ Alice said casually.

‘Fuck!’ swore Peter. ‘As if you were. Don’t lie. How could you be?’

‘Well, it’s hard to lose it when you spend your teens in psych wards.’ She threw him a contemptuous look. ‘If you’d just listened, I’d have told you. If you’d ever for one second give – not just take take take. All three of you. You think you can take whatever you want. Just – use me up. Own me. So yeah, you raped me. Blood all down my thighs. I couldn’t pee without crying for a week. You did that, all of you. So maybe you didn’t kill me but you may as well have done. You killed something. You killed Alice.’

Paula found her voice, deep in her throat. ‘Alice. Why did you do it?’

Alice looked her way, her chin moving in a clear slice. ‘Because. If you hurt someone, you should be punished for it. This was the best way. I would have come back.’ She twisted her mouth in the ghost of a smile. ‘Also – I guess people just pay you more attention when you’re dead.’

‘FUCK!’ screamed Dermot. ‘It was your own bloody fault! All that oh Dermot, you’re like my gay best friend, oh Dermot, you’re like my brother – I’m not fucking gay! How do you think I felt? You and fucking Katy. You made me do it. I had to
show
you.
I’m not gay
.’

Paula felt Guy move behind her, and did some very quick calculations. He didn’t have a gun, surely, as he’d been in London until recently – and Gerard didn’t have a clear sight line – and Corry had a gun to her head – but then Guy was drawing one anyway, and quite calmly shooting Dermot in the arm. Paula felt her bones jump at the noise. The boy howled, dropped the gun he was holding. Corry sprang away, picked it up. Avril cried out, deep in her throat. Gerard laid her down on the grass, head between her knees, and lunged for Dermot, who was writhing in pain. ‘Jesus Christ!’ shouted Peter. Katy was on her knees, sobbing, still handcuffed.

‘Right,’ said Guy, moving forward. He motioned to Peter. ‘You. Keep your hands where I can see them. Dermot Healy, I am arresting you for rape, kidnap, assaulting a police officer—’

‘He’s got a knife,’ said Alice, matter-of-factly. Her hands were still in her hoody pocket. ‘How do you think he got me back here? I didn’t exactly
offer
.’

Gerard and Corry stopped, backed away from Dermot, who had rolled onto his front, moaning. ‘It hurts! It hurts!’

Corry was back in control now, blowing her hair out of her face. ‘Turn around, Mr Healy.’ Both guns were trained on him. ‘Put your hands where we can see them.’

He turned, slowly, as if in great pain. In one hand he had a small knife, like a Stanley, with a dully gleaming blade.

‘Put the knife down,’ said Corry, almost irritated. ‘It’s over now. We’re going to take you to the station, call your parents, and then—’

Dermot was turning. There was gravel stuck to his face, his glasses askew. He had the knife in the hand that wasn’t cradled to his chest. ‘I’m not a rapist,’ he breathed. ‘I’m not – going to jail . . . I can’t . . . 
I’m not gay.

‘Shit.’ Corry ran forward to grab his arm, but he had already drawn the knife against his throat, and a shower of red arterial blood hit her and Katy in the face, and Gerard too, and even Peter nearby. ‘Jesus fucking Christ, he’s killed himself!’ said Peter, stupidly. Katy let out a long howl, like a dog in pain. Her face was splashed with the blood, running over her eyes and down her cheeks.

Corry was scrabbling in Dermot’s throat, trying to close the wound, his blood bubbling up under her hands. Beside her, Paula heard Guy speak into his radio. So calm, she remembered afterwards. He didn’t even break a sweat. ‘We need that ambulance. Now, please.’

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