The Game Changer Page 12

  ‘You can’t stop me looking into my past.’

  ‘No, I guess I can’t, but if anything else turns up, like that garage, promise me you’ll make contact before you do anything.’

  ‘What about you? If you discover information, and it involves me, will you tell me?’

  ‘I’ll do what I can.’

  ‘I see,’ she replied, pulling the door behind her.

  Special Detective Unit, Harcourt Street

  ADAM O’CONNOR WASN’T KEEN ON BEING IN THE dog-house after his conversation with Kate. He had told her a limited version of the truth, but even before their argument, this had gone way beyond personal for her.

  Opening his office door, he roared at Fitzsimons, ‘We have a temporary change of plan. Get yourself in here.’

  ‘What’s up, boss?’

  ‘We need to get a warrant for a lock-up garage off Buckingham Street. It was either rented or owned by the O’Neills. I want to know which. If it isn’t theirs, I want to know who owns it. Talk to the neighbours around Buckingham Street. See if they can give us anything. I’ll put a trace through to Dublin City Council and the Land Registry, but something tells me this isn’t going to be straightforward. I know those lock-ups. They’re usually let or sublet all over the place.’

  ‘Who’ll sign off on the warrant request?’

  ‘I’ll ask the chief super, but have Judge Keegan on standby. There’s been enough time wasted on this one, and it feels like someone else is ahead of us.’

  ‘Do you know what’s in the garage?’

  ‘According to Kate, it’s something of a treasure trove. We’ll need the tech guys too. And include someone with an in-depth knowledge of hair fibres.’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘And get that guy Ferguson involved. He studied insects, didn’t he? What do you call it?’

  ‘Entomology.’

  ‘Fitzsimons, I’m impressed.’

  Adam knew his phone call to the chief super wasn’t going to be an easy one. He would be furious about Kate taking matters into her own hands and going into the lock-up without clearance. The sooner Adam worked out how all of this fitted together, the better it would be for everyone. Before he made the call, his mobile phone rang. Seeing it was Marion, Addy’s mother, he picked it up. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘It’s Addy.’

  ‘What about him?’

  ‘He’s going away for a few weeks.’

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘Kerry. He’ll be there with Aoife.’

  ‘A holiday?’

  ‘Sort of – a bit like a back-to-nature kind of thing, but he’ll be home before college starts.’

  ‘I rang him a few times, he never phoned me back. Is he there?’

  ‘No, sorry, Adam, he’s already gone.’

  ‘Okay – thanks for letting me know.’ Even though he had no right to be annoyed, he still felt it.

  Hanging up, he dialled the chief super’s number, knowing he would get an earful about Kate’s escapade. If it led to a breakthrough in the investigation, moods might improve, but somehow he doubted it. In the few months since Kate had taken a step back, in the chief super’s eyes she had gone from Dr Kate Pearson to your girlfriend, and thinking about Kate again, Adam also knew that somehow he would have to try to get her back onside.

  Addy

  ADDY WAS GLAD TO BE WEARING HIS HEAVY PARKA when he felt the sharp Atlantic breeze as he stepped into the boat for the island crossing. Although the sun was still shining, in the distance he could see a blanket of cloud hovering over land, giving the small island an eerie, almost mystical appearance.

  Apart from the local fisherman guiding the boat, the only other company he had was a woman with a baby. He had helped her to load her stuff, a large suitcase, a buggy, and a baby travel bag. She looked nervous, so for the first while, other than small pleasantries, he hadn’t said very much.

  ‘My friends call me, Addy,’ he finally blurted out, fighting to be heard above the roar of the wind.

  She nodded at him.

  ‘I guess we’re both going to the same place.’ Another attempt at conversation.

  ‘I’m Sarah,’ she said, leaning over to shake his hand, ‘and this is Lily.’

  ‘You have her wrapped up well.’ He hoped he sounded friendly, even though something about the woman and her baby seemed odd. She was younger than his mother, and very different: she looked like a bit of a hippie, wearing little or no makeup, her long dark hair was tied in a side plait.

  ‘It won’t be long now,’ hollered the fisherman, not looking at either of them as the seagulls clattered overhead. As it turned out, Addy hadn’t needed to pay for the boat trip. The fisherman told him someone on the island had already looked after it. He hadn’t pushed it. The guy didn’t give the impression he was the chatty type.

  Looking at Sarah again, with the baby blanket dropped down a little, Addy got his first proper view of Lily, realising for the first time what had spiked his curiosity. The child hadn’t cried or moved since they’d made their way on to the boat. Seeing the face, he knew immediately that it was a doll, and instantly felt embarrassed for the woman. He hoped she hadn’t noticed his reaction. A part of him felt sorry for her. Another part thought, what the hell? If pretending the doll was a baby made her happy, what harm was she doing? People fool themselves with worse things. It was only when she asked him if he knew Saka that his body stiffened.

  ‘No, I’ve never met him. And you?’

  ‘Yes. He’s been very good to me, as have many others from the Centre of Lightness.’ She gazed into the distance, then added, ‘They’ve all been very kind about Lily too.’

  Addy didn’t answer. Instead, he looked down at the sea, now grey under the dark clouds. He pulled the zipper of his jacket up tight to his chin, hearing the sound of the Atlantic splashing against the side of the boat, tasting salt water in his mouth, his cheeks frozen.

  Closer to the island, high waves replaced the calmer waters with a rush of whiteness as the boat chopped towards land. One wave superseded another. Addy didn’t particularly mind the rolling of the boat, or being soaked by the spray, or the cold Atlantic wind biting hard. He didn’t even mind the woman fretting about the baby doll, or the fisherman seeming to refuse to catch his eye: for some crazy reason, all of it felt like a kind of adventure.

  When the boat pulled into the shore, the wind was stronger again, and after he’d put on his backpack, seeing that Sarah was struggling, he picked up her suitcase and the buggy. ‘Are you all right?’ he yelled.

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine.’

  She looked around her as Addy watched the boat they had come in pull away. His earlier sense of adventure had been replaced with apprehension and he wondered what he was letting himself in for.

  Together, they climbed the steep pathway from the shoreline to higher ground. According to the fisherman, it would lead them to a view of the commune house. Addy thought about how the three of them must look: a kind of crazy mismatched family fired together – a fortyish woman, a baby doll and him. Thinking about his friends back in Dublin, he felt oddly older and, in a strange way, responsible for this near stranger, a woman who seemed to be making her way to some kind of Promised Land.

  Spring Valley Village, Texas

  LEE TOOK A SWIG OF BEER, ONLY HALF LISTENING to his brother. The night was a balmy sixty-seven degrees, and the brothers had decided to have their drinks outside on the porch while John’s wife, Margaret, put the boys to bed.

  They could hear night crickets, their familiar chirping sound feeding into the relaxing air, and an alternative to the din of Manhattan, with its constant crowds and sirens.

  ‘You seem distant, Lee,’ John finally said, copping on to the fact that his brother was no longer following the conversation.

  ‘Do I? Sorry.’

  ‘Yeah. Ever since you got that phone call an hour ago.’

  ‘Force of habit, I suppose.’

  ‘Didn’t you tell them you were on vacation?’


  ‘I told them, all right, but some things can’t wait.’

  ‘They’d wait if you were dead.’

  ‘Cheerful.’

  ‘Just saying it as it is.’

  Lee took another swig of his beer, his lack of response acting as agreement that John was right. The call had certainly been an interesting one, another wacky addition to the Tom Mason investigation.

  ‘Can I ask you a question, Lee?’ John leaned forward on his chair.

  ‘Sure.’

  ‘Why do you like to read those detective novels?’

  Lee picked up his battered copy of The Mad Hatter Mystery. ‘What? This?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I suppose because I like puzzles.’

  ‘But you’ve read that one loads of times. I’ve seen you with it before.’

  ‘No matter how many times I read it, I always find something I missed the previous times.’

  ‘And that’s important?’

  ‘To me it is.’

  ‘What about all the other books in the world?’

  ‘It’s good to know your limitations, John. If I lived to be ten thousand, I wouldn’t get to read all the books out there. So, I work out which ones are important for me, and I concentrate on them.’

  ‘Was that phone call from the precinct?’

  ‘It was.’ He stretched out his legs. ‘An investigation is a bit like a book, bro. The more time you spend with it, the more rewards you get.’

  ‘A bit like a marriage, too.’

  Lee smiled. ‘Not quite, but I reckon nearly as time-consuming.’

  John stood up. ‘Shall I get us a couple more beers?’

  ‘Sure.’

  When John went inside, Lee thought about all the statements they had taken on the Mason case. None had given the investigation team a whole lot to go on, and it had taken them a while to track down Mason’s sister, Emily Burke. She was now living in Montana, and Jimmy Maynard, his partner, had been right to ring through the details of the interview to him. Jimmy and Lee worked well together. They were both capable of keeping their cards close to their chest, while always ensuring their partner was kept in the loop. Jimmy hadn’t mentioned anything to Emily Burke about the questionable images they had found on her brother’s computer, but he had pushed her for information about her brother’s life prior to his time in Manhattan. The political stuff they already knew, but Tom Mason being part of some intellectual study group in the eighties had spiked Jimmy’s interest, especially as the sister seemed to have a strong aversion to telling him too many concrete details about it.

  Kate

  WALKING OUT OF ADAM’S OFFICE, KATE WAS CLOSE to tears. It wasn’t only the angry words that fuelled her upset, but that they had argued, really argued. It had felt like a repeat of Declan and her, all over again. The type of argument had changed, but she was still part of it. Adam had been right about one thing: she was too close to all of this. Outside factors were forcing her to face up to things she might not be ready for. If it hadn’t been for that note, she wouldn’t be so apprehensive, not just about her own safety, but about Charlie’s too. She wasn’t the first person to get a harassment note. If any regular person had received one, they would have completed an official police report, and that would have been the end of it, unless things took a darker turn. Nonetheless, the uncertainty felt risky, nor was she sure what her next step would be, or how she would be able to unravel things outside the investigation team. One thing she was certain of, though: irrespective of Adam’s instructions, she would do whatever it took to get answers, and to make sure Charlie was safe.

  Passing the myriad faces in Harcourt Street, her mind jumped in different directions. She was going to be outside the loop, operating alone, and she would have to find ways to compensate for that. She hadn’t mentioned to Adam Ethel’s reference to her father, and part of her knew why. She wasn’t sure yet how to deal with that either. Malcolm was right. Her father had been an enigma, a man of secrets, and the trouble with secrets was that sometimes when things are hidden, once unearthed they can change everything. If she was turning her past life into some kind of investigation, a certain vulnerability and fear came with it, and a sense that something from long ago wasn’t right, even if she wasn’t sure what it was.

  When Ethel had mentioned her father’s name, she hadn’t simply felt another pull back to childhood: it had been like a calling card, sucking her in. Almost without warning, in the corridors of Harcourt Street police station, another memory returned. It wasn’t of the day of her attack, but days, perhaps weeks, before.

  Her father had been in one of his dark moods. His silence hung everywhere, filling the air with rage. She had gone to her bedroom to stay out of his way. Voices from outside had brought her to the window. She’d recognised Kevin, looking cool in his black T-shirt and jeans. He wasn’t alone. That man and the girl were with him again. The man was older, and the girl was probably the same age as Kate. They were laughing at something the man had said, but Kate kept staring at Kevin, not paying much attention to the other two. There was a look in his eyes that she hadn’t understood at first, but then she’d realised what it was because she was feeling the same thing: fear. When she heard her father move around downstairs, slamming doors, her anxiety intensified. Then her mind skipped again, from that day to another afternoon, when she had bumped into Kevin on the way home from school. She was wearing her school duffel coat, her hair tied back neatly in a ponytail. At the time, because of her bad eyesight, she had worn horn-rimmed spectacles. Instinctively, her adult self touched her nose, thinking about all the times she’d had to push her glasses up after they had slipped down. Even when the glasses were gone, she’d move the imaginary ones up her nose, getting a form of solace from an action no longer required. Kevin had asked her to sit on the canal wall. She was excited and nervous that he wanted to spend time with her, even though she hated the way she looked, and wished she was older, prettier, less like a nerd. Thinking back, she couldn’t remember what they had talked about, but she remembered being with him, and that he had been kind.

  With more people passing her in the corridor, Kate stepped to the side, leaning against the wall, bringing her mind back to her last memory. At the time, her head had been full of silly notions, a mix of pre-adolescence and early pangs of attraction. Her twelve-year-old self had idolised the teenager. She even remembered walking by his house, hoping he would come out to say hello, imagining what it would be like when the two of them were older, and she wouldn’t be an ugly duckling. He would fall in love with her. She had imagined the two of them talking about that day, the one when she’d spotted him from the window, when there was something about the man and the girl that had frightened him. What had he been afraid of?

  No matter how hard she tried, nothing more would come, and when Kate stepped outside into the fresh air, she realised something else about that memory. She wasn’t sure whether it was an instinct, or whether her subconscious mind was playing tricks on her, but something told her that finding out who that man and girl had been was going to be important.

  The Game Changer

  A VISIT TO THE ISLAND WAS REQUIRED, BUT A reflection on Kate’s progress was also necessary. Kate liked to meddle, and an inquisitive mind needed to be tied in knots. People would soon doubt her judgement, and she’d become further entrenched and isolated, her obsession a form of weapon that could be used against her. Kate was a maximiser, and one with very high standards. A maximiser goes out of their way to make the right decisions, and because of this they’re plagued with endless questions. It’s Kate’s desire to maximise that fuels her constant journey as a seeker. She makes a decision, but continues looking. She falls in love, but still questions. The more effort someone puts into reaching the right choice, the higher their expectations are, and the harder it is for those expectations to be fulfilled. Ultimately, dissatisfaction increases, and they reach a kind self-fulfilling prophecy.

  People were like stacks of cards: the older t
hey got, the more levels they built. Apply the right pressure, and they are easily reduced to a four-year-old child, with all the fears and uncertainties that irk them most.

  The island visit would happen soon enough. The group members were all individuals with potential benefits for the Game Changer. A mix of nationalities, who by and large were also people with money. Those who had reached leadership status would manage fine for the next few days. By the time anyone started digging up graves, or anything else on the island, the Game Changer would be long gone.

  Placing the laptop on the old desk, in what used to be Kate’s parents’ bedroom, the Game Changer began another report, pondering on how useful it was to have members of the police force as part of the group. It was an organisation in which trust was paramount, officers putting their lives in danger every day. Each member needed to know that their group was strong, and although made up of many individuals, they saw themselves as a single entity. Within this, a certain level of blindness was inevitable, and this form of blindness could be easily manipulated.

  CENTRE OF LIGHTNESS

  20 Steps to Self-enlightenment Programme

  OBSERVATIONAL TARGET: Kate Pearson

  Kate will continue to experience isolation and confusion. Elements of her past will force her to ask questions about herself and what she believes. This will ultimately lead to despair. She might lose all sense of who she is, whom she can trust, and an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness will ensue.

  Hopelessness brings a form of emotional freedom, the knowledge that nothing a person can do will change anything. Human beings complicate their lives, while death on the other hand is simple. There is a relief in that too, for some, but there will be no relief for Kate. As a maximiser, she is also a fighter.