The Game Changer (39 page)

‘It could be a coincidence.’

‘I thought you didn’t believe in them.’

‘I don’t, Kate, and I promise you, I’ll run it by the guys in PIU. Anything to do with that old case, no matter how minor, is valuable.’

‘Adam, what if my father was responsible?’ she croaked. The room was spinning.

‘Kate, don’t go cracking up on me, not now. I need your help.’

‘What?’

‘I got a phone call a few minutes ago from a man called John Sinclair. He’s reported his wife missing.’

THE BOY TILTED HIS HEAD TO THE SIDE, AS IF ADDY was the one who wasn’t supposed to be there rather than the other way around.

Addy stared at him. Then he said, ‘Why were you hiding like that?’

‘I wasn’t.’

Addy recognised the voice immediately as Donal’s.

‘Donal?’ he asked, to double-check.

‘Keep your voice down.’

‘You said you’d come back, but you didn’t.’ In that split second, Addy wanted to shake him. He took a step nearer, realising he was clenching his fists.

‘It was risky. They’re getting more careful – watching everything. They could be watching us now.’ He glanced around him.

‘They?’

‘The ones I told you about – the people who buried the bodies.’ Addy loosened his fists.

‘I hear you’re a member now.’

Addy could tell the boy was nervous, so he softened his tone: ‘I had to pretend to be one to get out of there.’

‘Why were you calling Chloë?’

‘I want to find her.’

‘You think I’m going to help you, don’t you?’

‘Maybe that’s why you came out of hiding.’

‘I told you, I wasn’t hiding. I needed to stop you roaring, that’s all.’ He kicked the ground.

‘I’m not roaring now, and you’re still here.’

‘If you told them you were a member, you lied.’

‘I was pretending.’

‘Lying is wrong.’

‘You lied to me, Donal. You said you’d come back and you didn’t.’

‘I couldn’t. That was different.’

‘For all I know, you lied about everything – burials, secret meetings, something happening to Chloë.’

‘I can prove it to you about the burials.’

‘How?’

‘I can bring you there.’

‘Why should I trust you?’

‘You don’t have a choice.’

‘Why don’t I?’

‘Because time is running out.’ He sounded breathless. ‘There’s a boat coming in a couple of days. I overheard the others talking about it. It might be the last one for months.’

‘I know about that.’ Addy was calmer. ‘You know where Chloë is, don’t you?’

‘I can’t be sure.’

‘Donal, don’t mess with me.’

‘She could be with Saka – in his rooms.’

‘You need to take me there.’

‘I can’t.’

‘You have to.’ Addy was close enough to grab him, and when he did, Donal arched his back as if to defend himself, his body rigid, then attempted to pull away. He was cowering.

‘I’m not going to hurt you, Donal.’ Addy guessed this wasn’t the first time someone had taken hold of him in an aggressive way. Maybe Chloë wasn’t the only child at risk. He loosened his grip, hoping he hadn’t pushed things too far.

‘I’ll take you to Chloë, but first, I’ll bring you to the burial ground,’ Donal said.

KATE LISTENED AS ADAM EXPLAINED ABOUT JOHN Sinclair, and the report he had filed in relation to his wife. It was similar to the others. Sarah Sinclair had left a note to say she was going away for a while. Her husband had hoped she would make contact, but when he didn’t hear anything from her, he made a number of attempts to get her by phone, with no luck. He decided to let it go for a while. They had been arguing, and he thought she needed time to cool down. It had been their wedding anniversary a couple of days earlier, and even though they’d had their differences, he was sure she would be in touch. When she didn’t call, he made more attempts to contact her, but he couldn’t get through on her number. After that, he reported it to his local police station. The report went up on PULSE, and one of the other detectives in the unit had picked up on it. Sarah Sinclair, according to her husband, had withdrawn a large amount of money in cash before she left, similar to Amanda Doyle and Robert Cotter.

‘What do you think, Kate?’

‘I don’t know,’ she answered, putting her head in her hands, trying to concentrate. She wanted the old Kate back, the one who would have responded in seconds, but the old Kate didn’t exist. Then she remembered her earlier notes. ‘I was looking at cult behaviours, to see if there was a link with the Mason and O’Neill cases, and the missing-person reports.’

‘Did you come up with anything?’

‘If there is cohesion between them, it could be related to a form of empowerment.’

‘I’m not getting you.’

‘I was thinking about Malcolm, and the possibility that he felt ostracised in some way, being kept on the fringes in the past, outside the core grouping. That if a cult exists, it could be a replacement for the group in the eighties, only this time with someone else in control – him. But I don’t know – it all sounds too crazy.’

‘You mean like a copycat type thing. Recreating another study group, with him in the lead?’

‘Maybe – it’s a possibility.’

‘Fisher has Malcolm on his radar too.’

‘Did Sarah’s husband say anything else in the report?’

‘Yes. Like the others, his wife mentioned some kind of enlightenment programme.’

‘So, it definitely ties in.’

‘I’ve arranged to see him in an hour. I want you to come with me.’

∞

John Sinclair’s house was in Terenure village, no more than a ten-minute drive from the apartment. When they arrived, it was obvious that he was deeply upset. He led Kate and Adam into the front living room, and all she could think was that she was looking at a broken man.

Adam was the first to speak. ‘I know this must be difficult for you, Mr Sinclair, but believe us when we say we have your and your wife’s best interests at heart.’

‘You can call me John – a simple name for a simple man.’

‘John it is, then.’ Adam introduced Kate, then picked up where he had left off. ‘You reported your wife missing a couple of days ago, when she didn’t make contact with you on your wedding anniversary.’

‘That’s correct. It’s an important day for both of us.’

‘I understand that.’

‘No, you don’t.’ His voice was harsher than either Kate or Adam had expected. ‘It’s not only because we got married that day. It’s
also the day our daughter died. Her name was Lily. She was only a few days old. Sarah found it difficult to accept. It was easier for her to pretend.’

Kate sat forward. ‘How do you mean?’

‘A few weeks back, she ordered this bloody baby doll from the States.’ He put his face into his hands. ‘I didn’t know what the hell to do when she started going on and on about the doll being Lily.’

‘You were angry?’ Kate could hear the high emotion in his words.

‘Yes, I was. I mean, I tried talking to her, but her head wasn’t in the right place for listening. She kept saying I was the enemy, trying to take Lily away from her all over again.’

‘What did she mean by “all over again”?’ Adam kept his voice non-threatening.

‘There were complications with the birth. It was my fault that I didn’t get them to the hospital on time.’

‘You shouldn’t blame yourself,’ Kate said, trying to ease things. ‘That’s easier said than done.’ He sounded tight, angry.

No one said anything for a few moments, in an attempt to allow the tension to subside. Finally, Adam flipped the pages in his notebook. ‘I understand your wife withdrew a large amount of money.’

‘That’s right. She said she needed it because she wanted to go away for a while. It was her money. She could do what she wanted with it.’

‘Did she ever mention a Michael O’Neill or a Malcolm Madden?’

‘Not that I remember.’

‘You said she was part of some kind of enlightenment programme.’ Adam looked at Kate.

‘Yeah, she had CDs she listened to.’

‘Do you still have them?’ Kate asked.

‘No, she took them with her, or else destroyed them.’

‘Do you think there was anything odd about them?’ Kate’s tone was soft, supportive.

‘I didn’t listen to the bloody things. But I knew they had your man’s voice on them.’

‘Whose voice?’ Adam looked up from his notebook. ‘A guy called Saka, but I doubt that’s his real name. I mean, what kind of a bloody name is that?’

Adam nodded, then said, ‘I think Kate may have a few questions.’

‘Ask away – although I can’t guarantee I have the right answers.’

‘That’s okay, John.’ Kate sat forward, trying to look more together than she felt. ‘Did you notice any personality changes in your wife, either prior to her departure or before she ordered the doll?’

‘I don’t know. It was like she was a different person. I mean, we had been through a tough time, and we weren’t out of the wars, far from it. We found it hard to talk about the past.’ He looked away, as if he was trying to find the right words. ‘I mean, I found it hard. Sarah wanted to keep revisiting it. I understand that now. I don’t think I was the best of husbands.’

‘But you said Sarah was like a different person?’

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to stray …’

‘It’s okay. Take your time.’

‘A few months back, when she began going to meetings and such, I don’t know, she started treating me like a stranger in my own home. She wasn’t the Sarah I knew. She would stay in bed until I left for work in the mornings, avoiding me.’

‘Did her sleep patterns change?’

‘I don’t think she slept much. I’d hear her getting up in the middle of the night to listen to those CDS, walking around the house like a half-dead person.’

‘Would you say Sarah looked up to Saka?’

‘Yes – I suppose she did.’

‘And what about social events, meeting people who would have been important to her – family, close friends, people from work?’

‘She didn’t want to know about any of that. She went on and on about how everyone was looking at things the wrong way. That we’ve been brainwashed, that we’ve stopped thinking for ourselves.’

‘So, it wasn’t only you she pulled back from?’

‘No, I guess not.’

‘And what about when she ordered the baby doll? Did she talk to you or anyone else about it beforehand?’

‘Not that I know of, although she did talk to that Saka guy. I know that much. When she started bringing the doll to bed with her, treating it like it was Lily, she said Saka told her it was important to be selfish about the things we needed. I mean, Jesus,’ he put his face into his hands again, ‘I got so frustrated. I didn’t know what to do. When she went away, I thought if I gave her some time, she would work it all out, come back home, but she didn’t.’

‘John, do you need a couple of minutes?’ Kate asked.

‘No, no. I’ve waited long enough. Ask whatever you need to ask.’

‘What about Sarah’s language – the words and phrases she used? Did they change?’

‘She talked about stuff like steps in the programme, finding a new way. It felt like she kept repeating the same things over and over, as if the more she said them, the more sense they made to her.’

‘It was impossible to break down?’

‘It was like she wasn’t listening – at least, not to the things I was saying.’

‘Would you say her reasoning was somewhat simplistic?’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Were her thought processes entrenched? Things were either good or bad, very few grey areas?’

‘A bit like that. She was certainly singular in her belief that that stupid doll was Lily. I think once that doll arrived it was the end. At that point, she pulled back from work, from everything. It was as if staying in the real world risked Lily – I mean, the doll – being taken from her.’

‘Someone found her Achilles heel.’ Kate glanced at Adam, thinking about how vulnerable she had felt of late.

‘John,’ Adam turned another page in his notebook, ‘is there anything concrete you can give us about where Sarah might have gone, or who this Saka person might be?’

‘No, but she did mention something about an island.’

‘Do you know where? Was it abroad or at home?’ It was Adam’s turn to glance at Kate.

‘I don’t know.’ John Sinclair sounded deflated. ‘I asked her about it, but she wouldn’t say. I think she regretted telling me even that. It was like she’d let out some big secret, but that Saka guy was part of it. I know that much.’

To Kate, Adam said, ‘That island could be anywhere.’

She didn’t answer. Instead she turned back to John Sinclair, who had a look of shame on his face. ‘John,’ she said, ‘you’ve been a great help.’