A Savage Hunger (Paula Maguire 4) (5 page)

Chapter Seven

‘A miracle?’ said Corry.

‘You know. She was sick of being how she is. All the time. Not being able to eat.’

‘And she thought the relic could help her?’

‘Well yeah, because it’s for hungry people. She—’ Katy broke off as there was a brisk knock on the door and it began to open.

‘Katy?’ said a woman’s voice. ‘Are you in there?’

Katy straightened herself on the bed, tucking her phone under herself. ‘Ms Hooker . . . hi. The police . . . um. They’re here.’ She gestured towards Paula and Corry.

‘Can I help you, ladies?’ The woman in the doorway was dressed in riding clothes – jodhpurs, jacket, boots. ‘I take it you’re the police then?’

‘DS Corry, Dr Maguire,’ said Corry, indicating Paula. ‘You wouldn’t be the principal, by any chance?’

‘Well, yes, I’m Madeleine Hooker.’

Corry narrowed her eyes. ‘I thought we had an appointment earlier today. You weren’t about to assist us.’

‘Well, I see you’ve gone ahead anyway.’

‘We have. Can we have a word now?’

She looked at her watch and gave a small sigh. ‘Come to my office. Katy, shouldn’t you be studying? I hope you won’t let yourself get behind.’

The woman who ran Oakdale kept a riding crop on her desk, apparently with no sense of irony. Paula was trying hard not to look at it. The walls of Madeleine Hooker’s office (she was called Hooker too – Gerard would have had a field day) were hung with equestrian rosettes, pictures of her jumping horses, meeting the president in a hard hat and jodhpurs. You could tell from her voice she was old money, old Ireland. ‘I hope you won’t upset things here. We run a very delicate ecosystem. Lots of police questions might create an atmosphere of distrust, stress.’

Corry, not one to be intimidated by a woman with a real Hermès scarf and a non-ironic riding crop, geared up. ‘One of your students is missing, Ms Hooker. If they feel anything at all, the others are most likely already stressed. Now, please try to help us with our inquiries – I imagine you’d also like Alice found, and fast. The press must be all over you.’

Madeleine Hooker drew her brows together. She was much younger than Paula had expected – not even forty, maybe. ‘We want Alice found because she’s a member of our community. But you need to understand, Oakdale isn’t like other universities.’

‘How so?’ Paula could almost hear Corry thinking – the other universities would be worried about their damn students going missing.

‘It helps if you think of it more like a monastery, or convent. Somewhere cloistered. And we’re lucky that we have a lot of private bequests, so we don’t have to rely on government funding. We’re fully accredited, of course. We just take a different approach. And we’re fortunate that applications are always high, so we can be selective.’ She swept her hand to the window, indicating the graceful building, the acres of green grounds, the lake like a pewter bowl in the afternoon sun.

‘Does that have to do with your reputation for emotional support?’ Corry asked.

Madeleine Hooker darted a look at her. ‘I’m not sure what you mean. We offer high levels of pastoral care – being so small and cut off, it’s important.’

Corry obviously wanted her to say something about money, and she was far too wily for that. ‘You take care of the students here, Ms Hooker?’

‘Of course. Some of them come to us a little lacking in the . . . robustness to survive a larger university. All that drinking and partying.’

‘No parties here?’

Her lips vanished in a thin line. ‘They are adults, Detective. But we often attract a more reflective type, students who want to learn without distractions.’

‘Was Alice one of those?’

‘I admit, I didn’t know Alice all that well. I can’t, with over three hundred of them. Of course we did know all about her background.’

‘Her anorexia, you mean?’

Madeleine Hooker sat back at her desk, her face reflected in the shiny iMac that dominated it. ‘Alice was being well looked after here. She was in the best place – but unfortunately, as we’re dealing with adults, we can’t always protect them.’

‘Isn’t it true that she hadn’t been seen in college much for a while?’

‘It’s not compulsory. We prefer to let them learn in their own time.’

‘It’s not a cause for alarm, a girl with severe anorexia moving out of campus like she did?’

‘Alice is twenty-two. You can’t expect us to police her life – no joke intended.’ Both Hooker and Corry looked as far from joking as it was possible to be.

‘Well. Yes. I just hope you’ll make sure the staff and students cooperate with our inquiries. It seems impossible to know where anyone’s supposed to be at any moment.’

‘It’s not a school. But I’m sorry to hear if anyone hasn’t been helpful. Perhaps you’d give me their names?’

Corry stared at her over the table. ‘Just ask them to show us every courtesy. A cup of tea wouldn’t go amiss either, now and again.’

‘Tea?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well.’ She blinked. ‘I’m sure we can set you up with cafeteria cards. But – will you be here much longer?’

‘Ms Hooker, Alice is still missing! I don’t see why no one here feels the urgency of that.’

The woman didn’t react. ‘A young adult with a history of disappearing, with mental health issues, and she’s not in her house for a day . . . I don’t see that this is necessarily any concern of the college’s, no.’

‘A student goes missing and there’s blood at the scene? I think that’s everyone’s concern, to be perfectly honest.’

She was frowning. ‘I was under the impression that a small amount of blood had been found. And that Alice was prone to self-harm—’

‘Nothing we’ve heard suggests that. We’re treating Alice’s disappearance as suspicious. I’d suggest you do the same.’

Madeleine Hooker sighed. ‘Detective. I hate to have to say this, but about six weeks ago, at the end of term, there was an incident on campus.’

Corry was on it like a wolf. ‘What kind of incident?’

‘Alice was seen in the grounds, apparently having taken something. Quite out of it, by all accounts. Stumbling around, making a show of herself.’

‘Drugs?’

She nodded, a look of distaste on her made-up face. ‘So maybe you’ll see why I wouldn’t necessarily be surprised if Alice had gone off somewhere.’

Corry batted it right back. ‘No activity on her phone? No use of her bank account? If she’s gone off, then where is she? And why is her blood on the church steps? A significant amount of blood, and in the same place another young woman went missing over thirty years ago?’

‘I didn’t know about that,’ said the principal stiffly.

‘Well, I’m telling you. This has happened before. Now maybe
you’ll
see why I can’t be as blasé as you and Alice’s friends seem to be.’

To this, Madeline Hooker had no answer. She shook her head a few times, as if to clear it, then picked up the phone and said, ‘Shona. Make sure our guests get everything they need. Finding Alice Morgan should be our top priority.’

Alice

It’ll hurt
, Charlotte says, out of the corner of her mouth. I just roll my eyes up at her. Like I care about hurt by now. Every day is hurt, in this place.

Charlotte has a razor blade hidden in her little-child’s hand. She smuggled it in, then smashed it up and threw away the moisturising bits. We aren’t interested in smooth legs here. We don’t care about anything except getting out.
Just there
. I feel her hand on my skin, cold as ice. She has it up my robe, holding my pants aside. I bet he would have loved it. Little does he know. As if you feel sexy when you’re one step ahead of death. That’s one of the best things about it.

Then Charlotte, in her strange crazy way, slashes the blade against my upper thigh, way high up, almost in the crease between my leg and my bits. I gulp and she claps the hand holding the pants over my mouth. The material digs into the cut.
Shh. Don’t say anything. When they weigh you, just let it drip out.

I nod. That way, he’ll think I’m bleeding. He’ll think I’m a normal girl and that I’m fine, and then maybe, if I’m very lucky, just maybe I’ll be closer to getting out of here one day.

Chapter Eight

‘They all have alibis, the kids?’ Corry and Paula were walking down the main staircase of the house. Despite herself, Paula had to admit it was nice – the kind of place you could imagine being young and earnest.

‘Dermot was working in his room all night, his room-mate says – sounds like a fun lad – and Peter and Katy were supposedly together. That’s been backed up by Peter’s room-mate, who says he didn’t come back to the room. Which by all accounts is a fairly regular occurrence. Why, are you hearing alarm bells?’

‘Well, Dermot was lying about something. Did you see the way his eyes kept moving?’

Corry put less faith in behavioural science. ‘They seem to think she’s gone off by herself. Get some time alone.’

‘Katy and Dermot both used the same word. Headspace, they said.’ They were heading back out to the car. The day at Oakdale was winding down, students starting to gather up books and jumpers and sun cream and head indoors from the lawns. No indication at all that just a few miles down the road, one of their classmates was gone, leaving only a trail of blood. ‘That suggests to me they’ve been discussing it.’

Corry unlocked the car. ‘I wouldn’t pay too much heed to what they say. Alice isn’t the only one into drugs.’

‘Yeah, I clocked Dermot’s eyes. Spaced out.’

‘Aye. Uppers and downers, I’d say. Anxiety my foot. Katy seemed a bit glassy too. Then there’s Peter Franks – who Katy claims is her boyfriend.’

‘You don’t believe it?’ Paula looked at Corry, her profile strong against the low evening sun as she started the car.

‘Maguire, wait till you see him. His picture’s on the website of this place, because he’s rowing captain or some nonsense – a great big hunk of a fella. Whereas Katy, not to put the girl down, but unless she’s in some soppy American romcom, she’s not the one who gets the guy.’

‘So what’s his story? Peter?’

‘Well.’ Corry took her hand off the wheel and rubbed at a spot on her trousers, where she’d dripped tea earlier. ‘I couldn’t get much out of the secretary on that, waffling on about data protection, but Peter doesn’t even have his Leaving Cert. He didn’t finish school, for some reason.’

‘And they still let him in here?’

Corry gave a small snort. ‘The wonders of money, Maguire. Not that your woman Hooker there would admit it. She’s a tough customer.’

Paula looked round at the university, the early evening light soft on the building’s grey stone walls. Horses in the fields, bending their heads to the rich grass. No drought problems here. ‘Seems a weird place for a lord’s daughter.’ There’d been a few of Alice’s type at Greenwich, where Paula had studied – privileged, brought up to let their voices ring out loud and proud, no regional accent to be ashamed of. No one asking them to repeat themselves or had they grown up on a farm. Ski tans and rowing hoodies. She’d been permanently weighed down by the chip on her Northern Irish shoulder – part of the reason she’d got a first was she’d hated everyone on her course too much to socialise with them. Or maybe she was just prejudiced.

‘She missed a lot of school, remember,’ said Corry, as they drew down the long driveway. ‘She went to Warwick but couldn’t hack it, dropped out last year.’

Paula said, ‘Did you go to university?’ There was still so much she didn’t know about Helen Corry, despite having worked with her for nearly three years now.

‘Me? No, straight into the job. Didn’t see the point.’

‘I guess they don’t think much about the point, here. Alice probably felt at home, if she spent her life in clinics and boarding schools.’

‘It’s a haven for the mad and rich, Maguire. For when their parents want rid of them and are happy to pay. Question is, why did Alice leave? If she chose to live in that damp wee cottage, she wanted away from something. Or someone.’

‘Katy?’

‘Could be. Sharing small quarters can get tough – though she was at boarding school all her life, she’d be used to it.’

‘We need to speak to this so-called boyfriend. Whoever’s boyfriend he is.’

‘That’s what we’re doing.’ Corry had parked on the edge of a playing field. The sun had dipped now, and a breeze with a slight chill picked up. Across the pitch, with the lake at their backs, came a troop of warriors. Four young men, all over six foot, every muscle visible in Lycra suits. On their shoulders, like some pagan sacrifice, they carried a boat. Corry opened the door and called them over, but even without being told Paula already knew which one was Peter Franks. He was the one everyone else looked to.

Men and their attractions was something of a difficult topic between Paula and Corry. Occasionally the older woman would offer a bit of parenting advice, like how to stop Maggie’s teething pains or deal with her nursery. Corry’s children were now sixteen and fourteen, and she’d long since divorced their father, who she described as ‘a useless streak of piss’. But she’d never asked Paula whose child Maggie might be, or what exactly had been the relationship between Paula and her former boss, Guy. In her turn, Paula didn’t ask how Corry felt about the fact she’d been sleeping with a killer, one who’d hacked into her emails and used them to derail the investigation, and also Corry’s career. One who’d died for it, with a bullet in his head.

But this boy had a gravity, she didn’t deny it. Once Peter had showered – he’d begged ten minutes so he could change, with a smile it was hard to say no to – he met them in the common room. Students sat at the desks or in the seats, talking quietly. Peter returned in soft jeans and a floppy-collared shirt, the same blue as the fading sky outside. The sleeves were rolled up to show his tanned arms, the hairs touched with gold.

‘Ladies.’ He was all charm, but Paula felt Corry bristle slightly.

‘It’s DS Corry and Dr Maguire.’

‘Of course, sorry. Can I get you a drink?’

It was the first one they’d been offered all day. Corry nodded. ‘I’ll have tea. Decaf, please.’ He went to the bar to get them, chatting easily with the girl working there, coming back all smiles with three drinks held in his large hands. Corry caught Paula’s eye. ‘We’ll have to watch ourselves with this one,’ she murmured. ‘Fancies himself.’

He sat down, passing them the drinks in paper cups. ‘Sorry that took a while.’

‘So, Peter. What is it you’re studying?’

‘History,’ he said, easing back in his chair. ‘I’m interested in, you know – the past. What was it you wanted me for?’

Paula caught the steel in Corry’s voice. ‘We’re here about Alice.’

He eased back more. Didn’t bat an eyelid. ‘Oh yeah. She’s run off again, I hear.’

‘We’re treating it as suspicious, Peter.’

‘Is that really necessary? I mean, she’s known for doing this.’

‘Have you known her to disappear from the college?’

‘Well, no, but she moved out to that cottage, and that was weird. We all thought something was up.’

‘We?’

He shifted, the leather of his chair creaking. ‘A few of us hang out a bit. We were all older than the rest of the first years, see. She made friends with her room-mate, Katy, and a guy she met at the therapist’s office.’

‘Dermot, is that who you mean?’

His voice was light, skimming the conversation like a boat on a lake. ‘Yeah, Dermot. He’s OK, bit nerdy. I’d never normally hang round with someone like him. But Alice – she was good at bringing people together.’

Corry said, ‘We heard you and Alice were involved.’

Again, he didn’t bat an eyelid. ‘Ah no. We might have pulled a few times, you know, freshers’ week stuff, it’s only natural. But we were friends mostly.’

‘And Katy? She calls you her boyfriend.’

At this, Peter looked momentarily surprised. ‘She does?’

‘You’re not?’

‘Sergeant.’ He rolled out a smile, a yard of white, dimples creasing his mouth. ‘I’m a young guy. I don’t want to settle down yet. And this place, it’s full of girls. You know what I’m saying.’

‘Yes, Peter, I believe I can crack your code. So you weren’t with Katy last night?’

He was wrong-footed. Just for a second, then he righted himself, but Paula and Corry both noticed it. ‘Oh – well, I was. But we’re not – you know. A couple.’

‘You might want to have a chat with Katy, then. She thinks you two are an item.’

‘Of course. I’d hate to hurt her feelings. She’s a nice girl, if a bit – clingy. That’s why Alice went, I thought.’

‘Go on,’ said Corry, carefully. It was the same thing Katy claimed he’d said about Alice.

‘Well, Katy was always wearing Alice’s clothes and using her make-up, and like, cuddling up on her bed. Plus she’d cry a lot, tell Al all her woes. A bit, you know – hello, stalker? So I think Al just wanted some space.’

‘Headspace,’ said Corry.

‘Right,’ he nodded, as if grateful for the word. ‘Headspace.’

‘She couldn’t have just switched rooms?’

‘Katy would have been hurt. And when you hurt her, you
hurt
her. You know?’

Corry frowned. ‘Explain?’

Peter held up his forearm and mimed slashing at the soft underside. ‘Bit razor-happy, you know? Did you see her arm?’

‘Sounds like a lot of pressure on Alice not to upset Katy, drive her to self-harm.’

‘Like I said. You’d want space, wouldn’t you?’

Paula leaned in, casually. ‘I’m surprised you’d get involved with Katy then, knowing what you know.’

At that Peter went silent. ‘I wouldn’t say
involved
.’

‘What would you say?’

Corry shot Paula a look – they’d hit home. ‘Look,’ he said, fighting to get the smile back on his face. ‘I’d really hate for you to waste your time. I honestly think Al, she just needed a bit of space. She’ll be fine. She’ll be back in a few days.’

‘So we shouldn’t be worried.’ Corry watched him.

‘Well, I don’t know obviously, but I think not. No.’

Unexpectedly, she sat back, changed tone. ‘Thanks, Peter, you’ve been very helpful.’

He looked up in surprise as they rose. ‘That’s it?’

‘For now.’ Corry buttoned her jacket. ‘You won’t be going anywhere, of course, if we need you.’ She gave Paula a look, the meaning clear:
enough
.