Now You See Me (30 page)

‘It’s not much to go on,’ Tony says. ‘I don’t think we’ve got anywhere near enough for a search warrant. And if he’s got any sense he’ll say no to us having a casual look around. That’ll give him time to get rid of anything, if he needs to.’

‘Have you got someone looking out for him?’

‘Watching the flats, yeah. As soon as he comes home I’ll go round there.’ He absently drinks the rest of his cold coffee. Sharon shudders, and pushes her own cup even further away.

‘Well, what do you think?’ she asks. ‘Do you reckon he’s really in the picture?’

‘Fucked if I know. Mostly I think Noel’s got us running around in some sort of abstract theoretical circle. Then ... the trouble is, the Jamisons just don’t smell right to me.’

‘Are we keeping them in?’

‘Can’t, unless we charge them. I’ve just had a blazing row with them upstairs about it. They’ve given us until the end of the week to come up with some quote
,
convincingl
y
concret
e
, unquote, alternative. Then we arrest the Jamisons, one and all.’ He scrapes his chair back from the table. ‘I’ve got a desk piled with paperwork,’ he says. ‘Will you get on to Paddy’s records and talk to the others in the group?’

‘OK, when I’ve finished keying in my report.’ She goes to the fridge near the counter and buys a small carton of apple and blackcurrant juice. She needs to get the taste of the coffee out of her mouth.

No
w
I
se
e
wh
y
Justin
e
wa
s
necessar
y.
No
w
I
se
e
wh
y
I
wa
s
s
o
apparentl
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careles
s.I
shoul
d
trus
t
mysel
f
mor
e.
M
y
othe
r
sel
f,
th
e
on
e
wh
o
wait
s
an
d
watche
s
an
d
plan
s,
ha
d
i
t
al
l
worke
d
ou
t.
No
w
tha
t
I
se
e
ho
w
clos
e
the
y
ar
e
gettin
g
t
o
m
e,
t
o
findin
g
m
e,I
understan
d.
It’
s
tim
e
t
o
mov
e
o
n
fro
m
her
e,
m
y
jo
b
i
s
nearl
y
ove
r.
Justin
e
wil
l
b
e
th
e
las
t
o
f
m
y
Sydne
y
childre
n.
Perhap
s
I
sense
d
tha
t
whe
n
I
rolle
d
u
p
he
r
soc
k
an
d
cramme
d
i
t
int
o
m
y
pocke
t
an
d
brough
t
i
t
hom
e.
I’v
e
neve
r
neede
d
t
o
kee
p
physica
l
mementoe
s
befor
e
.

An
d
someon
e
finall
y
sa
w
m
e,
thoug
h
h
e
doesn’
t
kno
w
wha
t
h
e
sa
w.
Bu
t
it’
s
a
thril
l,
al
l
righ
t,
a
s
I
guesse
d
i
t
woul
d
b
e.I
wis
h
I’
d
know
n
h
e
wa
s
ther
e,
lurkin
g.I
imagin
e
starin
g
ove
r
toward
s
hi
m,
perhap
s
offerin
g
hi
m
th
e
slightes
t
salut
e
i
n
acknowledgmen
t.
Th
e
imag
e
give
s
m
e
almos
t
sexua
l
pleasur
e
.

No
w
I
hav
e
t
o
ac
t
fas
t.
Everythin
g
i
s
i
n
plac
e,
i
n
m
y
othe
r
lif
e
a
s
wel
l.I
se
e
no
w
ho
w
inevitabl
e
thi
s
al
l
i
s.
There wil
l
b
e
n
o
unfinishe
d,
busines
s,
nothin
g
t
o
regre
t.
Onl
y
a
fe
w
week
s
ag
o
I
coul
d
no
t
hav
e
tor
n
mysel
f
awa
y
fro
m
her
e,
fro
m
th
e
unconsummate
d
possibilitie
s.
No
w
I’
m
liberate
d
fro
m
m
y
recen
t
pas
t,
m
y
need
s
hav
e
bee
n
me
t
.

Yo
u
use
d
t
o
tel
l
m
e
I
woul
d
neve
r
b
e
fre
e
o
f
th
e
pas
t,
bu
t
yo
u
wer
e
wron
g
i
n
tha
t,
to
o
.

When Noel gets home from work she finds Paddy jittering on her landing, waiting for her. He looks a wreck, dishevelled and staring and she feels herself shrivel with remorse.

‘Can I talk to you, Noel?’ he says. ‘There’s cops in my flat. Your squeeze, for one.’

‘Come in, of course,’ she says. ‘What are they doing? Why aren’t you there with them?’

She puts on a pot of coffee and opens the living-room windows to the balmy evening. Paddy fidgets around until she tells him to sit down. He perches on the edge of the couch and puts his fists in his armpits, hugging himself.

‘They think I did it,’ he says. ‘Your cop friend thinks I murdered Justine Riley.’

She sits down opposite him and rests her hand on his knee. ‘Paddy, it’s my fault. They don’t really. It’s just — they were all patients at the Children’s Hospital, and then you said you’d worked at both buildings. I passed it on. I had to.’

He doesn’t appear to be listening. ‘I couldn’t bear it, seeing those pimply-faced young cops pawing through my things. I had to get out. Your boyfriend said I could come down here to your flat, but I couldn’t leave the building. There’s others outside watching.’ He glares wildly at her. ‘There’s private stuff there, Noel, everyone’s got private stuff they don’t want other people to see.’

She’s deeply uncomfortable. ‘Paddy, why did you let them? Did they have a search warrant?’

‘No. I don’t know. I didn’t ask.’ He rocks himself backwards and forwards. ‘They said they wanted to have a look around and I didn’t think I could stop them. That’s after they asked me the same questions over and over for fucking hours. Now they’re invading my dreams, my pathetic fucking fantasies.’

‘What do you mean?’ She pulls back her hand.

‘There’s books there, and ... magazines. Things like that. I don’t want anyone to look at them, to know I read them. There’s stuff I’ve been writing, too, over the years. It’s not for anyone else to read, it’s private. They’ll tell everyone. Everyone’ll despise me.’

‘Paddy, the cops aren’t going to be interested in your secret life. They’ve seen everything, already, most of them. If there’s nothing to implicate you in the murders — the murder — they’ll have forgotten it all in five minutes.’ She knows she’s lying — she’s heard Tony and Sharon laughing about the things that turn up in searches — but she persuades herself it’s for his own good.

‘Look, isn’t it better to get it over with? Then you can put it all behind you, you won’t have to worry like this. It is for your own good,’ she says.

‘I don’t know who to trust,’ he says. ‘I haven’t trusted my own perceptions for years. I can’t trust you, you’re in thick with them.’ He leans his head back and closes his eyes. ‘I’m so fucking tired. Awake all night and I didn’t get any sleep today. Perhaps when they’re finished I can get some sleep.’ Noel hears the coffee boiling over in the kitchen and she gets up. As she turns off the hotplate, Tony comes striding through the front door without knocking.

‘Is he here?’

She nods and grabs his arm, pulling him towards the kitchen with her. ‘Leave him a minute, he’s fucked. Let him sleep. Listen, Tony, are you entirely pleased with yourself about this? Did you tell him he had the right not to let you search his place without a warrant?’ She’s trembling with anger, at herself as much as with him.

‘Yes, of course we did. He just gave us this goofy smile and muttered something about the Gestapo.’ But he does look faintly ashamed.

‘He’s not completely capable of looking after his own interests,’ she says. ‘Isn’t that obvious to you?’

‘Fucking hell, Noel. You’re the one who brought him up as primo suspect number one. Get him a lawyer. Tell him we took advantage of him if you’ve gone soft on it now.’

‘What do you mean?’ She takes a step back and sits on one of the wooden kitchen chairs. ‘Does he need a lawyer?’

‘He will,’ he says grimly. ‘We found a kid’s sock that looks very like a match to the one Justine was still wearing — it’s about all sh
e
wa
s
wearing. White with a lace border and a little pink bow. It was shoved down behind his bed — looked as if he kept it close so he could take it out and play with it sometimes.’

‘Oh, Jesus.’ She feels sick. ‘Is that all?’

‘What the fuck do you mean, is that all? What more do you want? But, in fact, it isn’t all we found. There’s two boxes of condoms that fit the requirements for the lubricant traces we’ve got, and there’s a pile of magazines you wouldn’t want to know about, believe me.’

He’s standing in the doorway, keeping an eye on the living-room door, hissing at her in a whisper that seems louder than shouting.

Noel looks past him and sees that he’s left the front door open. She senses there is someone else there, waiting to be called in. She gives Tony some points for coming in himself, first.

‘You’re going to arrest him,’ she says, her voice flat.

‘What do you think? There’s boys down in the basement, or boiler-room or whatever it is, now, looking for anything else he might have stashed away. He’s the caretaker here, isn’t he?’

‘Yes.’

‘Fucking women, I’ll never understand them. This proves your fucking theory, all right? What are you so pissed off about?’

‘I don’t want it to be Paddy,’ she says. ‘What about the other murders? Is there anything that connects him to them?’

‘Nothing we’ve found yet. We can get him on this one, that’s what matters.’

‘So Farrell stays in for Belinda. And Rona Clancy lives the rest of her life in a straitjacket for Terry. We certainly can’t bring Shantelle’s father back from the dead, I suppose.’

He shrugs and moves slightly towards her. ‘That’s the way it goes. There’s not a shred of evidence that they didn’t do it, and heaps that says they did. Anyway, does it matter? Do you really care about what happens to them?’

‘I can’t handle that right now,’ she says. ‘Arguing with you about who deserves to be punished and whether justice is served outside the law and all that crap. Why don’t you just get it over with?’

He gives her a long steady glare. ‘Is this one of the problems you predicted between us?’

‘Tony, for Christ’s sake. Can’t we discuss this later?’

‘No worries.’ He raises his voice suddenly, making her startle, ‘OK Geoff, come on in.’