Red Ribbons (43 page)

Read Red Ribbons Online

Authors: Louise Phillips

Tags: #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Suspense, #Crime Fiction, #Thrillers

BOOK: Red Ribbons
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‘I see.’

‘I knew you would, Kate, because you’re a very understanding person. Slow down here. We’re taking the next right turn.’

Kate slowed down. On taking the turn, she caught a glimpse of the squad cars down the long drive out of the corner of her eye – at exactly the same time as her abductor. He instructed her to keep on going. She thought about stopping the car, screaming out the window for help, but just as she thought this, he pushed the knife closer to Charlie’s face.

‘Do you like going to the beach, Charlie?’

Charlie had a blank look, as if his mind had reached overload with fear. Kate felt like crying as she looked at her son, his little face white, his eyes blankly staring, all the fight and life gone out of him. His head didn’t move this time, he had no response to their abductor’s question.

When William directed her towards the beach road, Kate did exactly as she was told.

St Michael’s Psychiatric Hospital
Monday, 10 October 2011, 4.55 p.m.

DONOGHUE TRACED KATE’S MOBILE PHONE TO HER apartment at Mervin Road. It was not the news O’Connor wanted to hear. As he pulled into the grounds of St Michael’s for the second time that day, he knew Dr Ebbs would be reluctant to release Ellie Brady into his care, even if she was accompanied by a nurse – but none of that mattered. As far as O’Connor was concerned, two lives were in immediate danger and everything else would have to come second to that.

When he arrived, he was relieved to see Ellie standing with Dr Ebbs and a young nurse at the front entrance. The nurse introduced herself as Sinead. O’Connor opened the back door of the car for the two of them, ushering them in as fast as he could. All the while, Dr Ebbs was in his ear, talking constantly about what to do and not to do, but he was only half-listening. His mind was on Kate. All going well, he could reach Cronly Lodge in a little over half an hour with the sirens on.

He was speeding down the N11 when he got the call from Carey.

‘Carey, fill me in.’

‘No sign of Cronly, Kate or her son down here. I’ve cordoned off the surrounding area. It’s a detached house, set on about an acre. I think we have our primary crime scene. Tech team have picked up residue markings of elongated blood splatters on the wall near the fireplace
in the main living area, then smaller blood-splatter traces farther out. They’ve bagged and tagged a number of items already, including a metal fireside poker. We have traces of blood pooling in the living room, and also in the garage out the back. Area one, the living room, most likely place of initial attack. Area two, the garage, was probably where body or bodies were brought before or after death.’

‘How old are the blood markings?’

‘They’re not from today, if that’s what you’re asking. Preliminary feedback from techies is that it looks like an attempt was made to clean the scene, but they’re picking up enough trace evidence to keep them busy for some time.’

‘Okay. Anything else?’

‘We bagged a lot from upstairs too, especially in what looks like a kid’s bedroom. We found an attaché case with a number of items, including a silver crucifix and a spool of red ribbon. Plus three small plastic zip bags, each with a lock of hair.’

‘Well you have plenty of support down there, so I want eyes and ears everywhere.’

‘I’m about to set up checkpoints in and out of the town.’

‘No, don’t. No uniforms. Keep it plain-clothed and low key. If Cronly is heading in that direction, I don’t want to spook him. We’ll need some DIs down at the beach too. That’s where I’m heading. I should be there shortly. ’

‘Right, I’ll pull the marked cars away from the front of the house. But O’Connor, he’s going to know he has visitors.’

‘He might know that already. Even so, I don’t want to push him out of the area entirely. Any change, phone me.’

O’Connor almost forgot about Ellie and Sinead in the back of the car, until Ellie spoke, quietly, but assured.

‘What’s his name, Detective?’

‘The man we’re looking for?’

‘Yes.’

‘William. His name is William Cronly.’

O’Connor waited for her response. When it came, Ellie’s voice remained slow, as if the speed of his car and the need to get to Wexford fast were completely at odds with her thinking.

‘Detective, you think he killed those girls from Dublin?’

‘I do.’

‘And what about Amy?’

O’Connor needed to control his voice, keep it gentle, especially now he knew Kate and Charlie weren’t at Cronly. Ellie was his only means of finding this guy’s hideout and he wasn’t taking any chances.

‘A photograph of Amy was found, Ellie, at William Cronly’s house in Wexford.’

‘What kind of photograph?’

O’Connor knew Ellie’s question was loaded. What she really wanted to know was whether or not her daughter was alive in it. From what he’d heard from Donoghue, the photograph was taken while the girl was very much alive.

‘I haven’t seen it myself, Ellie, but it’s a Polaroid image taken of Amy probably while you were holidaying that year.’

‘Holidaying?’ Ellie said it in a tone that contradicted every common understanding of the term. ‘How are you so sure it’s a photograph of Amy?’

‘I don’t have the full details, but I understand Gilmartin, the man who dragged you from the fire, has identified her in it. Ellie,’ O’Connor’s voice was almost pleading, ‘we’ll be there shortly. I need your help. You do understand that, don’t you?’

‘I understand you’re telling me that William Cronly is the one who killed my daughter.’

‘Yes, Ellie, we believe so.’ Ellie kept her silence. O’Connor continued. ‘We also believe he killed Caroline Devine and Amelia Spain.’ Ellie did not respond. O’Connor knew he needed her onside.

‘Ellie?’

‘Yes?’

‘I don’t want Kate or her son added to that list.’

‘Nor do I, Detective O’Connor, nor do I.’

For the first time since his passengers got into the car at St Michael’s, he breathed a sigh of relief for that at least.

The Beach Road, Gorey, County Wexford

DRIVING DOWN THE BEACH ROAD, HE TOLD KATE TO PARK the car at the back of the closed-down amusement arcade, instructing her to get out and wait while he unbuckled Charlie from the back seat.

Kate thought about making a grab for Charlie and running as far away as she could, but she knew that with Charlie in her arms, he’d outrun her. She still had the car keys, so if she overpowered him, she might have a chance to get away, but he was fit, strong enough to win the physical battle against her. She couldn’t risk it. If she crossed him, he’d know all the trust-building in the car was nothing more than a pretence, and Charlie would be in even more danger. If she had any hope of getting herself and Charlie out alive, she had to keep playing his game, wait for her chance to get her hands on that knife, use her head, and hope that the opportunity would come soon.

Standing with her back to the deserted amusement arcade, her legs felt like jelly, the sharp October breeze blowing her hair in every direction. She was shivering, more from fear for Charlie than from the cold, but still she smiled at their abductor, as if they were a normal family out on a day trip.

When she heard Charlie moaning from behind the duct tape and saw him struggling in William Cronly’s arms, it took every ounce of self-discipline she had not to make a grab for him.

‘Now, now, Charlie, you don’t want to make me angry.’

Kate moved forward. ‘Shush, Charlie. It’s okay, don’t worry. Maybe I should carry him, William? He’ll be less of a handful with me.’

‘I don’t think so, Kate. The track we’re taking is steep and you’re not used to it. You might let him fall.’

‘I’ll be careful.’

‘Trust me, I know these things. Now, Charlie, don’t get me annoyed.’

‘Honestly. I’ll take him, William. It’ll be better.’

‘Okay,’ he relented, ‘but I’ll keep close behind you, that way I can take him quickly if you stumble. We don’t want anything happening to him Kate, do we?’

Charlie grabbed hold of her, tight, like a wild baby chimp. He buried his face into her neck. Kate felt his tears on her skin. She put a hand under his jacket, wanting him to feel her close. She felt his skin soaked with sweat through his T-shirt, heard his heart thumping, remembered her own feeling of terror all those years before. He had grabbed her from behind, a knife to her throat, her screams loud but unheard, knowing the only thing between her and death was the most fleeting of chances.

‘Shush, Charlie don’t cry, it’s okay. Mommy is here.’

N11, Gorey Exit
Monday, 10 October 2011, 5.30 p.m.

THE DISCOVERY OF CAROLINE DEVINE’S PHOTOGRAPH at Meadow View was conclusive evidence as far as O’Connor was concerned. He had no doubt that the blood and hair samples taken from the Lodge would link William Cronly to Caroline’s murder, and ultimately to that of Amelia Spain. Coupled with the knowledge that he had taken a flight to Italy the week Antonio Peri died, and had in his possession a photograph of Ellie’s daughter, O’Connor was certain that the man who had taken Kate and Charlie was the same man who had committed all four murders.

In five minutes he would be at the beach front. O’Connor again went over in his mind everything Kate had told him about the killer. The high level of intimacy he perceived with his victims, a risk-taker within controlled parameters, leaned towards the familiar, repeat behaviour, watched his victims before making contact and believed he was developing a relationship with them. O’Connor cursed under his breath. All this time they had been looking for the killer, the killer had been watching Kate.

He thought back to earlier that afternoon, when he had dropped Kate off at her apartment. He had been the one who had left her there. He was the one who had driven away, when the man he most wanted to have by the throat was lying in wait for her. O’Connor struggled to stay focused on the road opening up in front of him, knowing that if everything Kate had said about the killer was true, he had taken her somewhere he felt safe, a place that had to be so close now. It
took everything in O’Connor’s power to stay focused. He phoned Donoghue.

‘Donoghue, is everything in place?’

‘DIs are there, all armed.’

‘And they know to hold out until I get there?’

‘They’re on the ready, waiting for you. Nolan’s been informed. We have dog teams there too. They’ve a woollen hat belonging to the boy and a scarf belonging to Kate. Helicopters on standby for wide sweep of the area should we need them.’

‘I don’t want to spook him.’

‘I know that, O’Connor. The DIs have called in a Carina with matching plates parked at the back of the amusement arcade. It was found empty.’

‘I can see it now, Donoghue. I’m pulling in.’

‘Take it easy, O’Connor.’

‘I will.’

The tyres of his car screeched to a stop on the gravel. He turned to his back-seat passengers and said as calmly as he could, ‘Okay, Ellie, it’s time.’

The Hideout

KATE CARRIED CHARLIE IN HER ARMS, REASSURING HIM, constantly whispering in his ear as she walked the dirt track, the back of the sand dunes on her right. It was bitterly cold now and almost dark. The breeze coming in from the sea was biting and without mercy. William Cronly followed closely behind her, like a shadow. Her old fears ever present, only this time her fears were not for herself but for the little boy frightened and crying in her arms.

Charlie wanted to pull the duct tape off his mouth, but she told him to leave it. She couldn’t risk him screaming and upsetting their abductor. She remembered her response to O’Connor’s question about what would happen if his next victim didn’t play ball: ‘He will lose it, his temper will flare up again, only next time, his disappointment will be greater because next time, he has nowhere else to turn. It will be everyone else’s fault except his own. He won’t internalise blame, he isn’t capable of that. The victim, whoever she is, will suffer, as will anyone else unlucky enough to be with her.’

Farther down the track, to their left, the land opened up to harvested fields, while the dirt track continued to skirt the back of the sand dunes. When the track narrowed, she saw the trees up ahead. They were elderberry trees, just as Ellie Brady had written in her copybook. He was taking them to his ‘hideout’. This meant that, in his eyes, she was still within his trust. She knew she must not do anything to risk breaking that trust. Right now, his fragile sense of connection was all that was keeping them alive.

Declan would have tried to phone her after five o’clock, as
promised. Would he keep trying to call, or wait for her to call him back? Would he go to the apartment? At what point would someone raise the alarm about Sophie? She had no way of knowing if anyone would miss either of them. She felt so alone, with Charlie in her arms and William Cronly at her back. It was all down to her. She knew her son’s life was in her hands, and she wasn’t altogether sure she was equal to the task of protecting him.

At the end of the path, they met a steep incline and, beyond it, she could see the woods. Dark twigs and fallen leaves from the last few weeks felt slippery and wet underfoot. When she lost her footing, Cronly touched her right arm.

‘We’re okay,’ she assured him.

‘Not long now, Kate.’ After the incline, Kate could see a steep drop to her right into more woodland, stone boulders covered in moss, the air filled with forest smells, creaking branches, birds and insects buzzing. It was like everything was in high definition as she tried to remember the way, tried to take in any detail that might prove helpful.

When they reached the edge, she put Charlie down, telling him to wait while she made her way to the ledge below. He whimpered, his eyes bloodshot. Cronly lifted him into her waiting arms, then followed them, jumping with the agility of a man half his age. The way down got steeper the farther they went. All the time William Cronly stayed close behind them. When they came to another clearing, the ground levelled off, and William stepped past her, walking on ahead for another twenty metres. He stopped suddenly, pulling back branches and all manner of natural camouflage, to reveal what could only be described as a cave.

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