Alex Barclay - Darkhouse

‘You better not be bullshittin’ me.’

‘I’m not. Please don’t touch my son.’

Duke stared, then reached back and slapped her hard with the back of his hand. Her bottom lip split wide.

‘Nice fuckin’ try,’ he said, brushing her hair from her face to look into her eyes. She was crying.

‘Don’t you dare fuckin’ lie to me,’ he said. ‘You’d never be able to choose between them. It’s written all over your skinny little French face.’

‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry.’

Duke shrugged. ‘Too late,’ he said. ‘Plan B, just for the holy hell of it.’

Barry Shanley was on his way to school punching a text message into his phone when he felt someone grab the back of his knapsack and wrench him to the ground. The phone spun out onto the road. Barry lay on his back on the path, struggling to find his feet. He managed to turn on his side, but Shaun pulled on his bag again, dragging him backwards. Barry’s hands scraped across the stone.

‘Fucking get off me,’ said Barry, trying to stand up.

‘Fuck you,’ said Shaun. ‘You sick fuck. Sending me emails like a fucking psycho.’

‘Got you there, Lucky, didn’t I?’

‘Are you nuts? My mom was—’ Shaun had to stop. He squeezed his eyes shut.

‘Oh, your mom!’ said Barry. ‘You pussy.’

Barry let his bag slide off his shoulders and dumped it on the ground. He started moving on the balls of his feet in front of Shaun, his arms raised. Shaun snorted.

‘You’re scaring me, Karate Kid.’

Barry reached out and tried to chop Shaun across the neck. Shaun grabbed Barry’s wrist and twisted it behind his back, pulling it up until he cried out. He pushed him forward onto the ground.

‘I’m not going to bother fighting you,’ said Shaun. He bent down and picked up Barry’s phone. He scrolled through the message on the screen. He read it out loud. ‘“Tape Home and Away for me. I’ll be back at 7. Kiss Kiss.” Now, who are you sending that to? Oh yeah, here we are: Mom. Fuck you, Shanley.’

Joe frowned. Up ahead, a woman was standing by the side of the road.

‘What the?’

She was swaying back and forth like a drunk, trying to flag him down with heavy arms. He frowned and checked the clock. He had three minutes to get to the car park. He looked around, hoping someone else would drive by and help this woman. Then he saw the blood, dripping from her arm. He looked for signs of a crash or another person, but she was alone and the closer he got the more hysterical she became. She suddenly started flailing wildly.

‘Shit,’ he muttered, pulling in beside her. She grabbed at the handle, missing it several times before the door finally opened and she could heave herself up onto the passenger seat. Something about her made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

He watched her as she sat back in the seat. ‘Thanks so much for stopping, sir, thank you,’ she said. Her face was flushed and slick with sweat. Her breathing was heavy. She pushed back her hair and tried to smooth it down, catching a wiry strand in one of three tiny gold hoop earrings.

‘What happened?’ said Joe.

‘Some maniac attacked me! I was going for a walk and he just came out of nowhere.’ She stared at him with wide eyes. ‘I think he was going to rape me,’ she added. Joe took in her bulk. The seats of the Jeep were wide, but she was filling hers and almost spilling over. Only a very large man would try to tackle her down. Maybe that’s why she’d got away.

‘I need to get to a hospital. He stabbed me. With a knife.’ She looked amazed. Then a strange flash of anger passed across her face as if she was about to finish with, ‘The asshole.’

‘Show me,’ said Joe, nodding at her arm. She hesitated. ‘I’m a police officer,’ he said.

She pulled back the sweater wrapped around her arm and he saw a deep slash stretching diagonally across her fleshy forearm. It was a clean slice, delivered — Joe imagined — with quick downward force as she was raising her arm to deflect it. He started the engine and turned to her.

‘You’re gonna be just fine,’ he said. ‘But I can’t take you to the hospital. I have a meeting—’

‘A meeting? You’re a policeman!’ she said. ‘You can’t just—’

‘I’m off duty,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry. What I will do is leave you at the garda station and the sergeant in there, Frank Deegan or the guard, Richie Bates, will take you to the hospital. Tell them Joe Lucchesi left you off.’ He glanced down at the clock. He was already three minutes late as he turned onto the main street and pulled up outside Danaher’s.

‘It’s over there,’ he pointed. She didn’t get out of the car. He couldn’t ask her to, so he climbed out and ran around to her side, opening the door and guiding her gently by her left arm.

‘Everything’s gonna be OK,’ he said, squeezing her hand. ‘I’m sorry about what happened to you. I’m sorry I have to leave you here.’

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘You’re very... kind.’ She looked like she was going to cry. He hopped back into the Jeep, did a swift U-turn and headed for the cliff. Four minutes late. Adrenaline surged through him. His hands started to shake. He stepped out of the Jeep and looked at the empty space around him.

D.I. O’Connor sat at his desk with a row of files open in front of him. Everything he read was irritating him. There were six members in the Drug Squad and it was clear that nothing they had done over the previous year had amounted to anything. He knew this already, but reading it now — in one sitting — for the first time in months made him wonder. Since he had left them, where did it all go wrong?

‘Uh-ohhh,’ said Duke. ‘Who’s showed up late for the party?’ Joe’s heart sank.

The call didn’t sound like it was being made outdoors. Joe looked around, but the car park was empty — no cars, no people.

‘You can’t just—’

‘I can do what I like, buddy,’ said Duke. ‘I’m the one with the little froggie here. She’s cute too. Ribbit. Ribbit.’

Joe was at a loss. ‘I... c’mon, man. I’ll give you whatever you want.’ He paced up and down in front of the car.

‘I wanted you to be here at three-thirty.’

‘It’s just three-thirty-five.’

‘Uh-huh, which is why I’m telling you YOU ARE LATE FOR THE PARTY. You shouldn’t have stopped for the girl, you fuckin’ sucker.’ He hung up.

Joe tried hard to slow his breathing. He focused on the view. From high on the cliff above the harbour he could see just a small part of the village. And the road to Shore’s Rock was invisible after the first curve it took out of town. Joe frowned. From where he stood, it was impossible to see the place where he had stopped for the girl. All Rawlins could have seen was Joe’s car driving toward Danaher’s, but he wouldn’t have been able to make out a passenger. Unless Duke had never intended to bring Anna here and was watching him from an entirely different location. Joe jumped into the Jeep and drove out of the village, stopping at intervals along the route he had taken. He ran along the trees that bordered the road, looking for any sign that Duke Rawlins had been there. He didn’t want to think that Anna could have been metres away from him all this time. But he couldn’t see how. He took the turn into Shore’s Rock and drove cautiously up the lane. When he got into the house, he dialled the station.

‘Hi, Frank? It’s Joe. I was just checking in with you, wondering if that young girl got to the hospital all right.’

Silence.

‘Frank?’

‘What girl?’

‘The one I left outside Danaher’s. With the stab wound. I told her to go into you. She, she needed an ambulance. I had to — Jesus, I hope she didn’t collapse...’