The Broken Shore (27 page)

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Authors: Catriona King

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BOOK: The Broken Shore
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“He knows what he did to Lissy Trainor was very wrong and he’ll have to pay for it.” Mulvenna helped his son to his feet and for the first time Craig saw the two men side by side. The resemblance was astonishing.

Mulvenna grinned. “It would hard to say he wasn’t mine, wouldn’t it?”

The pride in his voice was so obvious that even Foster smiled. Craig pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and Mulvenna nodded his son to turn round while he slipped them on. Craig lifted the gun and nodded him ahead. The siege had ended without anyone being killed.

Liam loped across the street to join them and grabbed Foster’s arm, catching Craig’s warning glance not to be rough. He walked Mulvenna to the car and they headed to High Street for the long night ahead.

***

Five hours later they had Danny Foster’s account of Lissy Trainor’s death and her mother’s abduction and they left Jonno Mulvenna to talk to his son. Foster would be charged with murder even if they didn’t progress Melanie Trainor’s kidnapping charge. His solicitor would argue diminished responsibility due to his years of abuse. It might fly, but either way he was looking at time locked-up. The sins of his parents were being visited on him. Both sets.

Adele Foster would carry the can for child neglect and abuse, her husband far beyond their reach. Melanie Trainor would lose her job for what she’d done in 1983. She might do a stretch for framing Mulvenna, if he was prepared to complain, but her longest stretch would be a future without either of the children that she’d brought into the world. Maybe her son would forgive her, if Mulvenna had his way he probably would, but Craig wasn’t holding his breath. It was a result all round, if not a happy one.

It was six a.m. by the time Craig fell into bed, teeth brushed but still fully clothed. His dreams were fitful and disturbed, with a distinctly female theme. By the time he woke up in the morning he knew what he had to do.

Chapter Thirty-One

 

Saturday 8 a.m

 

“Annette, can I see you in my office first thing, please?”

Annette stared at the handset as if it was going to bite her, then swallowed and answered ‘yes’ in a subdued voice. She knew what it was about; she could hear it in Craig’s tone. He wasn’t stupid. He’d worked out that something was being kept from him days ago, but he hadn’t known what. Only a monumental effort from all of them had managed to keep it that way.

“I’ll be there, sir. Everyone’s coming in to tie up loose ends. Nine o’clock?”

“Nine o’clock’s fine. Good bye.”

No ‘see you there’, no joke or laugh. She was in deep shit. Mind you, it didn’t help that his relationship with Julia McNulty was taking a dive. She knew the boss loved her, but she for one wouldn’t be sorry to see the back of Madam Julia. She took offence at the smallest thing. Touchy was the nice word for it, Liam had a few more.

She fixed her scarf and lifted her bag then smiled down at the sleeping dog. Life must be easy if you had loving owners who fed you and took you for walks. She was coming back as a Jack Russell next time round. She pulled the front door quietly behind her and climbed into the car, then drove to the C.C.U. as slowly as she could without actually blocking the road. Postponing the inevitable explosion at nine o’clock.

***

Craig stood in the shower letting the water run over his face, dreading the conversations he needed to have that weekend. He was almost cross-eyed with tiredness. They’d been interviewing Danny Foster until five in the morning and he’d tossed and turned for the rest of the night. He needed a difficult Saturday like a hole in the head.

He stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel, just as his mobile rang. Lucia. She was never awake at this hour on a Saturday! There must be something wrong with his folks. He seized the phone urgently.

“Lucia, what’s wrong? Is Dad OK?”

Lucia had her speech all prepared but her brother’s anxious voice left her lost for words. In the seconds it took her to recover he’d said “I’m on my way” and cut the call. Lucia gave the handset a puzzled look, then pressed dial again. This time she was ready.

“Marc, there’s nothing wrong with Mum and Dad. So just sit down and listen.”

Craig was stunned into silence by her authoritative tone. The fact he was so tired he was almost a zombie didn’t help. He listened blearily as Lucia recounted the events in her life over the last few weeks, leading him to the day she’d phoned Annette.

“What did you phone Annette for? Why not me?”

She cut him off firmly. “Because you would have over-reacted when you heard what it was about.”

“What? I wouldn’t have over-reacted. I never over-react!”

“Just like you’re not doing now, I suppose?”

Craig blustered his way through a few protestations then shut-up. Lucia wasn’t bossy often but when she was it was usually important. He sat on the bed letting the warm air dry him and listened as she told him what had happened that week, leading up to the arrest of Ross Devlin and the case being taken over by sex-crimes. When she finished he said nothing as the other events that week slotted into place.

That was why Annette had been evasive. And Davy, Nicky and Jake had been in on it as well! In fact the only people who’d known nothing had been Liam, John and him. Lucia waited in silence and held her breath, wondering when the explosion was going to come. Instead Craig laughed. It wasn’t an amused laugh, more one of surprise.

“You managed to keep me completely in the dark.”

“Yes. But it was for your own sake, Marc. You had a murder to solve, and…”

Craig rubbed his wet hair with a towel and stood up, starting to get dressed. “And you thought I would lose it and kill the guy.”

It was a statement of fact.

“Well, wouldn’t you have? And you’d have told Mum and Dad and they need that worry like a hole in the head.”

He laughed again. “You’re right on both counts.” His voice softened. “Are you really OK, pet? Did he hurt you?”

Lucia laughed. “Not as much as I hurt him.” She launched into the story of how she’d knocked Ross Devlin down with so much glee Craig almost fell sorry for the man. Almost.

“Where is he now?”

“Oh, no. I’m not telling you that. You’ll go round there are start something.”

His voice rose. “Bloody right I will. Tell me Lucia. I’ll find out anyway.”

“No. I won’t. And I’m just as stubborn as you are, Marc. I’ll tell Liam and he can make sure you don’t do anything stupid. And don’t you dare give any of your team a hard time about this. Annette wanted to tell you. She only gave in when I promised her I would move home, which I did. I’ve been waking up to ‘Take That’ all week.”

She started laughing and Craig caved in, knowing that by the time he got to Liam she would have told him everything and sworn him to help. He signed off saying he’d call into the shop that afternoon and prepared to thank his team for saving him from himself. Then he dialled another number and arranged the rest of his weekend.

 

2.30 p.m.

 

Annette had got congratulations instead of the bollocking she’d been braced for, and Craig had taken them all for lunch at The James. He and Liam had disappeared for an hour after lunch and when they’d come back Craig had a face like thunder. They’d gone to see Ross Devlin and Liam had stopped him doing what he’d wanted to do; punch Devlin hard. He’d get over it when he saw him locked up.

Everyone slipped-off home for what was left of the weekend leaving Liam tidying up the loose ends on the GAA lists. The idea that Mulvenna had had a relative in the force had been a long shot at best, and it had been wrong. It didn’t matter. They had their killer and John’s forensics would match the spores from Lissy’s body to Downhill Forest, sewing things up tight. By the way Craig closed his office door Liam knew he had other problems in his life.

Craig lifted the business card from his pocket and turned it over in his hand, reading the name to himself. Dr Katy Stevens: Endocrinologist. St Mary’s Healthcare Trust. The Trust’s number was on the front and her mobile was scribbled on the back. He stared at it for a minute then opened his top drawer and placed it inside. He couldn’t be her friend and he’d be lying to them both if he said he could. Perhaps he’d call her someday, but not yet.

He swivelled his chair towards the window and gazed out at the dark November sky. A cruise ship was weighing anchor in Belfast Harbour, ready to head across the Irish Sea to other climes. He thought of the North Atlantic Ocean with its wild waves and cold white foam, washing over Lissy Turner. It was a lonely image. Her death had served no-one. Then he thought of Lucia and smiled, remembering her account of how hard she’d hit Devlin. She hadn’t hit him hard enough in his opinion. He’d be out in a few years to do the same again to someone. But not his sister.

He was about to leave when Liam knocked hard on the door.

“Come in.”

Liam thumped into the room and grabbed a chair.

“Hell of a week, eh?”

Craig smiled. “You wouldn’t want it every week, that’s for sure.” He glanced at his watch. “You should go home, Liam.”

“I will, just as soon as you tell me you’re not heading back to High Street to deck Ross Devlin.”

Craig laughed ruefully. “I think Jack would stop me if I tried.”

“I don’t. I think he’d close the door behind you and turn off the lights. Swear that you won’t, boss.”

Craig hesitated for a moment then thought of his promise to visit Lucia at the shop, and nodded. “I swear I won’t go near Devlin, although I can’t promise not to cheer at his trial.”

Liam sniffed, satisfied, and rested his hands on his paunch. “That’ll do for me.” He glanced at the clock. “Any plans for the rest of the day?”

“I said I’d call in to see Lucia, then I’m heading up to Limavady, seeing as Annette managed to get us off the rota for the weekend.”

Liam stared at him wisely, knowing it wouldn’t be a happy trip. Craig could see him searching for some words of wisdom and waited to hear what came out.

“When a relationship’s right it isn’t this hard, boss.”

He stood up and nodded goodbye then closed the door behind him, leaving Craig thinking about the truth of his words.

 

THE END

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