The Triumph of Katie Byrne (26 page)

‘That’s true, I’m sure,’ she said softly.

‘Then we’re at an impasse.’

‘I suppose we are.’

‘I truly thought you’d move to Buenos Aires next year.’

‘I can’t.’

He reached for his wallet. ‘I’m not hungry any more. Shall we go?’

‘Yes. I’ll get a cab. I’m very tired tonight, after two shows today, Chris. And I’d like to be alone.’

‘No problem,’ he snapped, throwing her a furious look. ‘But I will take you home. I’m not going to let you wander the streets alone.’

She cried herself to sleep. She knew it was over between them, knew he wouldn’t call her tomorrow, and that
James Nelson wouldn’t be coming in to see the play. Chris was out of her life.

He was stubborn. She had spotted that about him right at the beginning of their relationship; and he was a little spoilt, if the truth be known. He wanted his own way. He’d probably always had it, starting with his mother and his sister, Charlene, and the other women he’d known before her. He was without a doubt the most attractive and appealing man she had ever met: warm, loving, intelligent and kind. And other women must have seen the same things in him, and
spoiled him.

Yes, it was over, because he expected her to bow to his will; she couldn’t do that. She was as stubborn as he was, perhaps. And probably as spoiled as he was, too. Spoiled by her parents and her family.

How can I go and live in Argentina? Katie asked herself. Aside from my acting, there’s also Carly. Now that there had been this radical change in Carly’s condition she couldn’t leave her friend alone. Abandon her. All right, in a year Carly would be much better than she was now, provided everything went well. But even so,
she
was all Carly had. Well, there was Janet Smith, but Carly and her mother had never been all that close. And she couldn’t leave Carly after the ten years that had been lost to her.

Katie buried her head in the pillow and wept fresh tears. It would be hard, too, to leave her family; they
had always been so close. No, she and Chris would never make it, and that was that.

It’s over, she whispered into her damp pillow.

It’s like spring today, Katie thought, as she walked slowly around her mother’s back garden. Some of the trees and bushes were sprouting tiny green shoots, and the daffodils were pushing up under the trees at the end of the garden.

There was a feeling of regrowth, of renewal in the air on this bright, sunny April day, and Katie felt better than she had for the last few weeks. To her surprise, Chris had called her before leaving for Argentina, just to say goodbye and wish her well. She had caught a note of despair and sadness in his voice, and she had been sweet with him on the phone, but she had not given him an opportunity to continue their last disastrous discussion. Since then she had not heard a word.

Almost a month, she thought. He’s been gone almost a month, and he hasn’t been in touch. So it’s over, just as I believed that night at Fiorella’s. Well, so much for that.

‘Katie! I’m back!’ her mother called, and she swung around, walked up the path to the back door, where her mother was standing.

‘You’ve been quick,’ Katie said, coming to a standstill at the back door. ‘You must have flown there and back. How’s Grandma Catriona?’

‘Oh, she’s fine, darling, just a bad cold, that’s all. She sends her love. I explained why you didn’t go with me, that I didn’t want to expose you to germs.’

Katie laughed. ‘Honestly, Mom, you don’t have to wrap me up in cotton wool!’ Glancing at the garden, she went on, ‘Everything looks beautiful. And you seem to be winning your battle with the deer.’

‘I am, finally. I’ve been using a new spray to stop them eating everything. ‘Tis a shame really, the poor things are hungry in the winter, but I can’t let them eat my entire garden, now can I?’

Katie shook her head, smiling, and followed her mother into the kitchen. ‘I’ve made some coffee,’ she said. ‘I’ll have a cup with you before I go to the hospice to see Carly.’

‘You’ve been very devoted, Katie, going every Monday and Tuesday, giving up your bit of free time to see her. It’s a good thing the theatre’s dark on Mondays.’

‘I was away for a year in London, Mom, so I want to make it up to her.’

‘Shall I go with you today?’ Maureen asked, carrying two mugs of coffee over to the kitchen table.

‘Oh no, it’s not necessary, but thanks anyway. You were so devoted last year, going once a month to see her. Now it’s my turn. I’m happy to take over.’ Katie
sat down at the table and poured milk into her mug of coffee. The last thing she wanted was her mother going to the hospice again. Maureen did not know of the recent change in Carly’s condition, and Katie wanted to keep her in the dark for as long as possible. The fewer people who knew, the better. Mac MacDonald had made it clear he wanted Carly absolutely protected. The secret had remained a secret thus far. And there had been no leaks from the hospice.

‘Have you heard from Chris?’ Maureen asked as she joined Katie at the table.

‘No, I haven’t. I don’t suppose I will, Mom. We sort of came to an impasse that evening, and there’s really no way anything can change. Chris knows that as much as I do.’

‘’Tis a shame, mavourneen, I must admit that. We all liked him so much. But there you are, it wasn’t meant to be, Katie.’ Maureen sat back in the chair, staring at her daughter intently, studying her.

‘What is it?’ Katie asked after a moment, and gave a small baffled laugh. ‘Do I have a smudge on my face or what?’

‘No, no. I was just thinking how well you look, Katie mine. Beautiful if the truth be known. You’ve blossomed since you went into the play. And you have so much going for you, a big career ahead of you, friends and family who love you. So you mustn’t fret for Chris.’

‘I’m not fretting, Momma. I miss him, I love him, but
I’m practical enough to get on with my life. What’s the alternative?’

‘There isn’t one, and I’m glad you’ve got your head screwed on the right way, Katie. You’ve never been one to mope, flop around feeling sorry for yourself, thank the Lord. Anyway, you’re busy with the play, and will be for a long time. And one day you’ll meet another nice man. There must be one out there for you, darlin’.’

‘I hope so,’ Katie responded, and reached out, squeezed her mother’s hand. ‘Thanks for being so supportive. You and Dad have been great these last few weeks.’

As Katie parked outside the hospital an hour later she saw James Nelson crossing the road, heading for the nearby hospice, his white coat flapping around him in the breeze. She got out of the rented car quickly, snatched up her carryall, and called out, ‘Dr Nelson! Hi!’

He swung his head and lifted his hand in a wave when he saw her.

A moment later Katie was by his side. ‘I decided to stop in again today, on my way back to New York. I think the more Carly sees me the better, don’t you?’

‘Absolutely. And she’s making remarkable progress. Didn’t you notice that when you were here yesterday?’

‘I did. In the week I was gone she’s made all kinds of strides. I couldn’t believe it yesterday when I saw her sitting up.’

‘I didn’t expect Carly to do as well as she has,’ Dr Nelson confided, opening the door for her, ushering her into the front lobby. ‘That’s something I’ve got to admit to you, Katie. I’ve come to the conclusion that she may have been in a
semi-vegetative
state, but aware of much more that was going on around her longer than anyone realized.’

Katie nodded. ‘So your prognosis is good?’

‘Yes, it is. I think Carly will make an excellent recovery. There will be challenges she’ll have to deal with, but there’s a great chance she will be fully mobile eventually, and that most of her motor skills will return.’

‘That’s wonderful news!’ Katie exclaimed, her eyes lighting up.

He smiled at Katie, put his hand on her shoulder. ‘You’ve been a really good friend and I know your continuing presence here has worked wonders for Carly. You’re helping her memory to come back, of that I’m certain.’

‘Talking to her about the past, showing her photographs, playing music she knows, I think all those things have been a factor, don’t you?’

‘Yes. Just keep on doing all of it.’ He turned to go into his office, and said, ‘I’ll see you next week, I presume.’

‘You presume correctly, Dr Nelson.’

Katie hurried along the corridor to Carly’s room, went in and closed the door. As always, she went straight to
the bed. The difference now was that Carly was propped up against the pillows and the feeding tube had gone. Dr Nelson had put her on soft foods, and she was managing to eat quite well. Another surprise for everyone who looked after her.

‘Here I am again, Carly,’ Katie exclaimed as she leaned over the bed, and kissed her on the cheek, squeezed her arm lightly. She drew away, looked into Carly’s eyes, and saw the lovely bright spark of life in them.

Katie beamed at her girlfriend. ‘I’m so happy, Carly,
so happy.
You’re getting better very quickly, you know. Much quicker than anyone ever expected.
You are doing very well.
Do you understand me?’

Carly attempted a smile, and then blinked her eyes. ‘Katie…Hi…’

‘Good girl.’ Katie took hold of her hand. There was a light pressure of Carly’s fingers against hers, and Katie was overjoyed again. ‘I’ll be taking you out on the town dancing before you know it!’

Carly made a small gurgling noise in her throat, and Katie frowned, stared at her. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Den…ise,’ Carly said in that low mumble, and stared at Katie, her eyes frantic.

‘
Denise.
Is that what you’re saying?’ Katie asked, leaning closer to her.

Carly blinked rapidly. It had become one of her ways of communicating. ‘Denise…okay?’ she enunciated more clearly.

Katie suddenly remembered that she had been unconscious in the wood. She didn’t know Denise was dead. Oh my God. How can I tell her that? It could set her back, and she’s doing so well. Katie had always had an ability for thinking on her feet, and now she said swiftly, ‘Yes, Denise
was
hurt, Carly.’

‘
Oooh.
’ The noise Carly made was more like a groan, and her face crumpled slightly. Tears came into her violet-blue eyes and rolled down her cheeks. ‘Poor…Denise…’

‘Oh darling, yes, poor Denise,’ Katie murmured, her own eyes filling. She went to get the box of tissues; returning to the bedside, she patted Carly’s cheeks, drying her tears, and then her own.

There was a silence for a while.

Katie sat next to the bed, holding Carly’s hand, stroking it, wanting to comfort her friend.

There was a sudden, unexpected change in Carly. She tried to move up, lifted her head off the pillows, and her eyes were agitated. ‘Denise…me…run…Katie!’

Startled, Katie leaned in closer. ‘You and Denise ran? That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? You and Denise ran into the wood.’

Carly blinked rapidly. ‘Yes…’

Taking a deep breath, Katie said carefully, ‘Who did you run away from?’

A blank look settled on Carly’s face. She stared back at
Katie. Her mouth moved in agitation and then stopped. But her eyes were bright with life again.

‘
A man was chasing you.
Who was it? Tell me, Carly.’ Katie took her hand again and squeezed it. ‘I’m here. Nothing can hurt you now.’

‘Denise hurt…’

‘Yes, Denise
was
hurt, and so were you. Who was the man who hurt Denise?’

‘Ha…nk…Hank…hurt…Denise…hurt…me.’

‘Hank? Are you saying Hank?’

Carly blinked. ‘Hank…’ she said again, and lay staring at Katie.

Katie was puzzled. She bit her lip, racked her brains, wondering who Carly meant. She didn’t know anyone called Hank. ‘Hank
who
, Carly? What’s his last name?’

‘Hank…Thurl…o.’

‘Hank Thurloe!’ Katie cried. ‘Do you mean Hank Thurloe?’

‘Yes…’

‘Oh my God!’ Katie was momentarily stunned, and she sat very still in the chair, her eyes riveted on Carly. After a moment she recovered, and said again, ‘
Hank Thurloe
?’ Hank Thurloe hurt Denise and you?’

Again Carly said, very clearly, ‘Yes…Katie…’

An hour later Katie was greeting Mac MacDonald in James Nelson’s office at the hospice. Mac was accompanied by
Detective Groome, who had worked on the Matthews murder case with him ten years ago.

‘Sorry we took so long to get here from Litchfield, but the traffic was bad,’ Mac said to her. ‘And it was lucky you called when you did. I was just leaving to drive up to Sharon.’

‘This last hour has seemed like an eternity,’ Katie exclaimed, then turned to Dave Groome. ‘Nice to see you, Detective.’

‘It’s good to see you, too, Katie. You look great.’

‘Thanks. Listen, Mac, I’m going to cut to the chase. As I told you on the phone, Carly’s regained some of her memory. Enough of it to tell me who it was who assaulted them.’

Mac looked at her keenly. ‘Who was it, Katie?’ His voice was urgent.

‘Someone called Hank Thurloe.’

‘Who is he? Was he at school with you?’

‘Yes, but he was a senior, and he’d been gone about two years in 1989. He was the school football hero, the big jock, the big romeo. All the girls were crazy about him –’

‘Was Denise crazy about him?’ Mac cut in peremptorily.

‘No, no, he was ahead of us in school. As I just said. And then he left. But the other girls, the older girls, thought he was glamorous. They had crushes on him. He’s good-looking, or he was then.’

‘Tell me everything you know about him,’ Mac said.

‘Okay. Let me try and remember.’ Katie’s brow furrowed and she bit her lip, thinking hard. ‘Well, his family were affluent, that I do know. They had a very nice house in Kent, an old farmhouse. Between Kent and Cornwall Bridge. His father had some sort of business in New Milford. A printing business, I think.’

‘There’s still a printer’s called Thurloe in New Milford,’ Detective Groome volunteered.

‘Then it must be his father’s business,’ Katie said.

‘Can you give me a description of Hank Thurloe?’ Mac now asked, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. He knew he was going to solve this case after all these years, and he felt a rush of adrenaline. Finally he was going to get justice for Denise Matthews and Carly Smith. At long last.

‘Yes. As he was then,’ Katie replied. ‘He was tall, well built, heavy-set really. His hair was light-brown. I don’t recall what colour his eyes were. I mean, you have to know someone well to remember that.’

Mac nodded. ‘How did he dress? You said his family was affluent, so no doubt he favoured good clothes.’

‘That’s right, Mac. Jeans, of course, but cashmere sweaters in winter, nice sports shirts in summer. I remember about his clothes because Niall always thought Hank looked out of place. He said Hank was showing off, trying to impress. Especially the girls.’

Mac nodded, thinking of Allegra’s profile ten years ago. My God, she had been right on the button. She
had described Hank Thurloe when she had given him a partial profile of the perp. She had said he was tall, well built, with brown hair, and that he must’ve worn cashmere sweaters. There had been cashmere threads on Denise’s body and brown hair, as well. Not to mention the skin particles under her nails. DNA was going to help him put Hank Thurloe behind bars, of that he had no doubt now.

Mac said to Katie, ‘Let’s go to Carly’s room. I want her to tell me herself. I want her to name Hank Thurloe.’

The days that followed this dramatic turn of events were filled with tension for Katie.

She threw herself into the play, glad she had her work to lose herself in, because it helped to keep worry at bay.

Nevertheless, there were moments when she did find herself worrying – about Carly, and about Hank Thurloe being found and arrested.

But she had infinite faith in Mac MacDonald. She knew how committed he was, and that he wanted this unsolved case to be solved. As he had said to her after they had visited Carly’s room: ‘I want to be able to write
case closed
on this particular file. I want Carly to live without fear in the future, and Denise to rest in peace in her grave.’

Mac had telephoned her once during the week to tell
her that they had located Hank Thurloe. He was married with two children and lived just outside Litchfield. She had hung up the phone thinking how close this was to Malvern; her mother had been right, the murderer had not moved away. He was right on their doorstep.