The Triumph of Katie Byrne

Mac followed them to the door of the barn. He put his hand on Michael’s shoulder. ‘We’ll solve this, Mike, I’m certain of that. And let’s stay in touch.’

Once they were alone, Mac sat down on one of the chairs, leaned back and closed his eyes, concentrating his thoughts on the murder. And the events that most likely preceded it. What he needed was evidence; he also needed to talk to the two detectives who were here on the scene with him, and get their input.

Finally he sat up, and looked across at Charlie Graham. ‘So what did you find up there by the rhododendron bushes, Charlie?’

‘A couple of things, Mac. I had the techs bag a cigarette butt we’d spotted, and they also took away a bag of heavily trampled leaves. Some of the leaves were wet, probably with urine, we decided. It was a man up there, not a deer. Most likely the attacker.’

Mac nodded, and asked, ‘What about the undergrowth and the brush at the end of the wood where the body was found? I’m assuming there were signs that someone had been there. Loitering. Or hiding.’

‘That’s right. The techs took away trace samples, as well as leaves and grass,’ Charlie answered. ‘It’s my feeling the perp was still in the vicinity when Katie and Niall arrived and began to call the girls’ names.’

‘They saved Carly Smith’s life,’ Dave Groome asserted, walking over to join Mac and Charlie at the table. He sat down and went on, ‘The perp was probably about to finish Carly off with additional blows to the head, when Katie and Niall showed up. She might easily have ended up dead like Denise Matthews.’

Mac nodded in agreement, turning cold inside when he thought about the dead girl and the fiend who had raped and killed her. Had he planned to do the same to Carly and been interrupted? Or had he simply wanted Carly dead? Shifting his weight in the chair, Mac thought out loud when he said, ‘He wouldn’t want a witness, would he? Someone who could identify him…as Carly could, and will, when she regains consciousness.’

‘That’s true,’ Dave agreed, and looked off into the distance, frowning.

Mac said, ‘I guess Keith and Andy aren’t back yet.’

Charlie shook his head. ‘It was a pretty tough mission you sent them on, Mac, going to see Denise’s parents and Carly’s mother. Keith radioed in a short while ago. They’ve taken Mrs Smith to the hospital in New Milford so she can be with her daughter. They’re probably on their way back here already.’

There was a moment or two of silence; none of them spoke. All three men were lost in their thoughts, worried and concerned about the crime and solving it. Finally it was Dave who said in a quiet voice, ‘What do you think happened here this afternoon, Mac?’

‘Somebody was stalking the girls, in my opinion, hiding up there in the rhododendron bushes. Once Katie had left, whom I’m sure he saw, by the way, he came down the hill, and went into the barn. Some kind of altercation took place. The girls ran out frightened, and headed straight into the wood. He chased them, attacked them both, then he raped Denise, and strangled her.’

‘What did the doc say?’ Charlie asked.

‘That it was a violent attack by an angry man. We’ll know more tomorrow, after the autopsy’s done.’ Mac rubbed his chin thoughtfully with his hand, and looking from Dave to Charlie, he said, ‘No weapon was found at the scene, which means that the perp took it away with him.’

‘It could have been a piece of wood, a stone, something handy he found there,’ Charlie suggested.

‘Or he brought some kind of club with him,’ Mac said.

‘That’s true,’ Dave agreed, and continued, ‘We’d better come up with a profile of this guy real fast. Was he after all three girls? Or only Denise? Was he a local? Or a stranger passing through? A serial killer on the loose? Who the hell is he? And where is he now?’

‘I wish I could answer all your questions, Dave, then we’d be in clover. But I can’t. Not yet. However, there is one thing…in my considered opinion, it’s a local,’ Mac replied. ‘Maybe not from Malvern or any of the towns close by, but he’s from this area.’

‘What makes you rule out a stranger, Mac? The idea of a drifter wandering around doesn’t grab you?’

Mac shook his head slowly. ‘No, Dave, it doesn’t.’

Charlie said, ‘Three pretty maids in a row…that’s what Katie said.’

‘What do you make of the school bags being lined up the way they were, Mac?’ Dave cut in, and rose, walked over to the window, glanced out, then turned back to face Mac. ‘Weird, eh?’

Mac lifted his hands in a futile gesture. ‘I don’t know what it means, if anything.’

Dave said, ‘I kinda trust Katie’s judgement. If she says her friends wouldn’t have done that, then I tend to go along with her. Look, maybe the perp came back to the barn to check it out, to remove any evidence he’d left behind. Then he spotted the bags, lined them up.’

‘But why?’ Mac said.

Dave shrugged. ‘Who knows? A message of some kind, if he’s a whacko?’ The detective sat down heavily in a chair as a thought struck him. He said, worriedly, ‘Could Katie be in danger?’

‘No, I’m sure not,’ Mac answered confidently, then wondered if she could be. ‘We’ll know more when we get the lab report on the bag.’ After a moment he added, ‘The perp wouldn’t stick his neck out, draw attention to himself. He’s lying low, he probably thinks he’s gotten away with murder.’

‘Has he?’ Charlie asked, looking unhappy.

‘No, he hasn’t,’ Mac stated in a strong voice. He pushed himself to his feet and began to pace up and down. ‘Tomorrow, first thing, we’ll start a background check, talk to Denise’s school friends, her known associates, and especially her boyfriends –’

‘According to Katie, Denise didn’t have any boyfriends, ’ Dave interjected. ‘Except for her brother Niall, who dated Denise last year. Niall says it never went anywhere, never became a romance. I’m sure he’s telling the truth. And by the way, he accounted for his whereabouts today.’

‘So he has an alibi?’ Mac asked.

Dave nodded. ‘Oh yes. He finished work in Roxbury at about four-twenty, or thereabouts. He’s working on a remodelling job over there. He then went to the hardware store in Washington Depot, where he purchased a special hook for a picture. Then he drove to Marbledale, where he met a pal at the pub. They had Cokes and a packet of crisps. He says he left the pub at about five-forty and drove home to Malvern, arriving there a couple of minutes after six. Apparently he turned around and drove Katie back to the barn only a few minutes after he’d arrived.’

‘So Niall’s not under suspicion. I’m glad to hear that,’ Mac muttered, almost to himself.

‘Even if the perp is from around here, he could be someone Denise didn’t actually know,’ Dave pointed out.

‘Yes, that’s true,’ Mac agreed, and went on, ‘Let’s go outside and see what’s happening. Then we should get back to base. I’d like to go over whatever evidence there is available. We must make the most of the golden hours left to us.’

Dave and Charlie followed Mac across the barn, and Dave said, in a low undertone, ‘This looks as if it’s going to be a tough case. Let’s pray for a few breaks.’

Chapter Ten (#)

Maureen Byrne glanced around the family kitchen, trying to draw a measure of comfort and reassurance from the familiar.

Everything was in its given place, as it had always been here. The old brass clock ticked away on the mantelpiece, the Victorian lamps cast pools of warming light, and the fire burned brightly in the great stone hearth.

Even the air was redolent with the delicious, mingled smells of the food she had cooked this afternoon…Irish stew, breadcakes and a big apple tart. Only this afternoon, she repeated under her breath, but it seems eons away now, so much has happened in the last few hours.

For all its familiarity, the kitchen was no longer the same to her. It had changed, and it was different because pain and heartache, and so many other emotions, hung heavily on the air, dimming somehow its warm glow, cosiness and rustic beauty.

Sighing to herself, Maureen looked at each member of her family grouped around the table, saying little, keeping their troubling thoughts to themselves, their faces etched in sadness. Worry and concern clouded her clear blue eyes. None of them was bothering to eat, not touching the stew she had served, not even Fin, and she understood the reason why. Not a morsel had passed her own mouth, and she had put her fork down a moment ago, knowing she had no appetite whatsoever.

The events of this terrible day had overwhelmed Maureen, overwhelmed all of the Byrnes. They had become submerged in the violence of Denise’s murder and the vicious attack on Carly, and by the tragedy and sorrow of such horrendous events. These had been stunning and frightening in their suddenness, their unexpectedness, and shock still lingered in their eyes. Chaos had invaded their ordinary, uneventful, protected lives and turned them upside down. Nothing would ever be the same again, none of them would be the same, Maureen was absolutely convinced of that.

Her keen, perceptive eyes settled on her daughter. Katie concerned her the most, because she was so intimately tied to Carly and Denise, her friends since childhood, and her boon companions growing up. Katie’s eyes were red-rimmed from crying and her face was puffy and swollen. How to help her, Maureen wondered desperately, how to help her get through this awful tragedy, how to get Niall and Fin through it. And Michael and herself, for they were as deeply affected and disturbed by it as their children were.

Suddenly, Maureen’s nostrils were assailed by the fragrant scent of the coffee which had finally brewed. And instantly, she stood up, lifted her plate, and said to them briskly, ‘Let’s have a quick mug of coffee and then get off to the hospital. Nobody’s going to eat supper tonight, none of us are hungry, and I for one can’t swallow a mouthful. I’m sure you’re all feeling the same. Come on, Katie, Fin, help me to clear the table. Many hands make light work.’

‘Yes, we should get going,’ Michael agreed, looking at his watch. ‘It’s ten to nine already.’

Katie rose, took her plate and Niall’s, and walked over to the counter at the other end of the kitchen. The garbage pail was concealed in a cupboard under the counter, and once she had opened the door and pulled the pail out, she and Fin scraped the plates clean. Then Katie went back to fetch her father’s plate, and the bread basket; Maureen poured steaming hot coffee into five mugs, and Fin and Katie helped her carry them back to the table.

But after only a few sips of coffee, Katie stood up again. ‘I’m going to wash my hands and face, and get my coat, Mom,’ she muttered, ‘if you don’t mind.’

‘You’re excused, Katie,’ Maureen replied.