Past Darkness Page 15

  Karl clicked the phone off.

  ‘What did Tommy want?’ Naomi asked.

  ‘A bit confusing. Thinks that god-damn creepy cat they own may have seen the intruder on the night of the fire.’

  ‘The cat saw someone?’

  ‘The cat saw someone. Don’t ask me what the hell that means. I’m away to see him now, see what this is all about. Look after the fort until I get back. I shouldn’t be long.’

  He gave Naomi a quick kiss and then marched back outside on a fool’s errand, cold, damp and miserable.

  Karl, Tommy and Theresa were gathered in the living room. Theresa’s eyes were puffy and red, as if she had recently been crying. She looked upset. Tiddles the cat snoozed, crescent-shaped atop the sofa, oblivious to the drama being acted out in its presence and name.

  In Tommy’s palm, a tiny plastic bauble nestled like a robin’s egg.

  ‘Pauline bought it for Tiddles a few months ago,’ Tommy explained, his voice quivering with emotion.

  A puzzled-looking Karl took the item and began scrutinising it. ‘What…what exactly is it?’

  ‘They call it “Cat-Eye”. It’s like a miniature spy camera for cats. Pauline saw it on one of those animal shows, about a town full of cats, and what the cats get up to at night, unknown to their owners. Pauline said it was fascinating to watch. The very next day, she went out and bought one for Tiddles.’

  ‘Tiddles wasn’t too happy at the start, mind you, having it wrapped around her neck like a millstone,’ Theresa said, a sad smile on her face. ‘But eventually she got used to it. We always watched it about once a week, just to see what she’d get up to on the nights she was out prowling.’

  ‘So, that’s what was on her neck when I first saw her?’ Karl said, amazed. ‘Isn’t it remarkable what these gadget-people can do, nowadays? How everything is becoming so miniaturised?’

  ‘We were watching it about an hour ago, and we got an awful shock at what we saw, didn’t we, Tommy?’ Theresa said.

  ‘Yes, love. A real shock.’ Tommy nodded in agreement.

  ‘Put it on for Karl, will you, Tommy?’

  Tommy inserted the USB stick into the computer’s port, and clicked the word ‘PLAY’ on the screen. The video came to life:

  Darkness. Then grey fuzziness. Slowly clearing. A cat’s-eye view of a hidden nocturnal, purgatorial world, inhabited by posses of shadows closing in all around in a smothering claustrophia. The fish-eye lens made it seem as if the video was playing out on a spoon’s curved surface. Shaky streaks of images rose up: a spider building its esoteric web, blueprint wired to its ancient brain of dried bone powder. A partial cat paw demolishing the web with one swipe. Spider impaled on a curved claw. Chewed to a bloody inkblot. Then…stillness. Cat’s attention is now arrowed elsewhere. More shaky movements. Then steady again. A figure emerges from the back door of the house. Carrying something. Booty, perhaps?

  ‘Do you see him, Karl, coming out the back door?’ Theresa said.

  ‘Stop it right there, Tommy.’ Karl brought his face closer to the screen.

  Tommy clicked STOP. Karl studied the image, the shadowy, androgynous figure. Is the person actually coming out the back door of the house? Or is that an adjacent entry? Hard to tell. Could be a man. Could be a woman. Is that a nylon stocking pulled over the head to obscure identity? A devil uninvited.

  ‘Isn’t that the creepiest thing you ever saw, Karl?’ Tommy said.

  ‘Huh? Oh…yes, Tommy…’ lied Karl, having not only seen creepier things, but experienced them as well. Bundle in arms? Hard to distinguish through the grainy quality of the nighttime recording, and the medieval attire the figure has itself wrapped in.

  ‘That’s a man,’ Theresa said, pointing at the screen. ‘I’ve no doubt about it.’

  ‘Could it be one of the people at the party?’ Karl said.

  ‘See down in the bottom corner? There’s a time stamp on it. This was four in the morning. The party had finished long before this happened. Everyone left at the same time. This man is an intruder, and that’s either our wee Cindy or Dorothy he has in his filthy arms.’

  Karl continued studying. Saying nothing. He had doubts as to gender; doubts as to what was being carried. It didn’t look like a small body.

  Tommy re-clicked PLAY.

  The cat has halted all movement. Transfixed with total concentration in the moment of the mysterious vignette. Intruder is moving slowly away across the yard. Steps over puddle-like carcass of an animal.

  ‘Is that a dead dog?’ Karl asked.

  Theresa nodded. ‘Samson, the family pet. Poor thing. He was a lovely dog. He loved those girls.’

  Figure suddenly stops. Starts looking about. Hesitant, scanning the yard. Stares over towards Cat-Eye, as if watching Karl’s voyeurism.

  The hairs on the back of Karl’s neck rose and prickled. A sheen of cold sweat skimmed off his spine. He could hardly breathe. What the fuck…?

  ‘That’s Dorothy or Cindy! God, I know it is!’ screamed Theresa.

  Tommy put his arm over Theresa’s shoulder, trying to reassure her. ‘Easy, love. Easy…we don’t know if it–’

  ‘Don’t you dare, Tommy Naughton! Don’t you dare question my grandmotherly intuition,’ said Theresa, pushing Tommy away. ‘I don’t care what you think – or anyone. That’s one of our grandkids wrapped up in that blanket.’

  Diplomatically sidestepping the potential quarrel, Karl clicked the STOP button.

  ‘Look, we need to be watching this video together, not arguing. Afterwards, we’ll share our opinions of what we saw. Okay?’

  Tommy nodded. Theresa followed his example, but with obvious reluctance.

  Karl clicked PLAY.

  Figure slowly places bundle on ground. Now reaching for something beneath clothing. Slowly bringing up hand. A knife? Figure slowly stands. Quite crafty. Like lightning, throws knife. Madness ensues. Images bobbing up and down. Cat running. Like hell.

  Hell…

  ‘The dirty bastard,’ Tommy said. ‘See the way he threw that knife at Tiddles?’

  Karl continued watching for over a minute, but nothing else of importance seemed to follow. He clicked STOP.

  ‘Well, Karl? What did you see?’ Theresa said, looking at Karl with a paradoxical mixture of despair and hope in her sad eyes.

  ‘Can I get a copy of the film put on a disc?’ Karl said to Tommy, deliberately ignoring Theresa’s question.

  ‘Not too sure how to do that, Karl,’ Tommy said. ‘Pauline would do all that kind of stuff.’

  ‘No problem. I have a friend who knows everything there is to know about computers. Just give me the original USB stick, and I’ll get copies made.’

  ‘Karl?’ Theresa said. ‘What did you see?’

  Karl turned, looked at Theresa, and said, ‘My daughter, Katie, was kidnapped, over two years ago, Theresa, so don’t think for one moment I don’t understand the hell you and Tommy are going through.’

  ‘Dear lord, Karl.’ Theresa put her hand to her mouth, looking completely stunned. ‘I’m so sorry…did…did you get her back?’

  Physically, not mentally. ‘I…I got her back…eventually. So, let’s not lose hope. Hope is everything. With your permission, I’ll give a copy of this to the police. I know how you feel about cops, but we’re going to need all the help we can get.’

  ‘Give it to them. If they can bring Dorothy or Cindy back, I’ll be eternally grateful to them.’

  Karl looked away from Theresa, his eyes resting on the family portrait on the fireplace. Two young girls looked out at him. Both dead? One alive? Just like Theresa, his intuition was kicking in. However, his was telling him this wasn’t going to end up a happy-ever-after story.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  This place is dangerous. The time right deadly. The drinks are on me, my bucko!

  Mark Cardigan, His Kind of Woman

  ‘Take the weight off your feet, sit down.’ Karl said to Detective Chambers, standing beside his table in Debbie Does Din
ners, a well-known café on Great Victoria Street in the city centre, not a kick in the arse away from the Europa hotel. It was the day after the Naughtons played Karl the Cat-Eye video.

  ‘What’s this all about, Kane? You said it was urgent. I’ve just come off the nightshift; I need to get home for some sleep.’

  ‘Coffee?’ Karl asked, as a young waitress approached the table.

  ‘White,’ Chambers said, reluctantly sitting down. ‘Two sugars.’

  ‘What can I get you gentlemen?’ the waitress asked, smiling a tired but management-ordered smile.

  ‘Two coffees, Mary. The usual for me. White and two sugars for my friend here. Where’s Janice? Off?’

  ‘Dying with the flu, Karl. Hasn’t been in all week.’

  ‘She must be bad. She’d work eight days a week, given the chance.’

  Chambers waited until the waitress had left

  ‘Why’d you want to meet me here, of all places?’

  ‘Why not? This is one of my regular eating joints.’

  ‘Lots of police officers eat here.’

  ‘Very observant of you. And your point is?’

  ‘Just thought…well…’

  ‘Just thought I’d be intimidated in the presence of a load of cops who hate my guts? One day when you really get to know me, you’ll discover I don’t intimidate easily.’

  ‘Most cops in Belfast would like to see you dead. They think you’ve got away with murder in the past, as well as involvement in the killings of police.’

  ‘So, what are you doing sitting with me, if that’s what most cops think?’

  ‘One day when you really get to know me, you’ll discover I’m not most cops. I keep an open mind until I’ve convinced myself.’

  ‘Fair enough. Anything on Francis’ murder?’

  ‘Not yet. We can only stretch manpower so far. If anything comes my way, I’ll let you know. Now, you said on the phone you had information for me. I take it you mean Butler?’

  ‘Not that arse-hole. Something important. Do you remember a fire some weeks ago, the entire family were reportedly killed?’

  ‘North Belfast, wasn’t it? The Reilly family?’

  ‘Mother, father and two young girls. The young mother’s parents–Tommy and Theresa Naughton–asked me to investigate the fire.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘They weren’t too happy with the official findings stating it was an accident, one waiting to happened.’

  ‘And what did you find?’

  ‘Everything the coroner reported was more or less correct. I found nothing suspicious.’

  ‘So, why’ve you called me if you found nothing to contradict the official report?’

  ‘I found nothing suspicious–at the time. It turned out, I was mistaken.’

  ‘That must be a first, coming from you.’

  Mary returned with coffee. Conversation recommenced once she left.

  ‘Just like me, the coroner was wrong. The fire didn’t start accidentally. It was deliberate. Cold-blooded and deliberate.’

  ‘What makes you think that?’

  From his coat pocket, Karl removed the disc enclosed in a paper sleeve.

  ‘Thank the gods Tommy and Theresa’s perseverance and belief paid off. I just had this made. When you watch it, you’ll see that one of the little girls didn’t die in the fire. She was abducted.’

  ‘Abducted?’ Chambers, looking sceptical, took the disc from Karl. ‘You’re telling me this disc will show an actual abduction of a young girl?’

  ‘And the abductor.’

  ‘You won’t blame me for remaining unconvinced, until I look at this?’

  ‘Not at all. I was a Doubting Thomas, until I saw it with my own eyes. But promise me you’ll get an alert out immediately after you watch it.’

  ‘I’ll have to look at this very carefully before determining what action to take.’

  ‘Don’t start with all that bureaucratic bullshit. I wouldn’t have come to you if I thought for one moment you’d start talking that shite like all the rest of them. I could have gone to the papers with this, made the cops out to be a right bunch of wankers.’

  ‘Why me? Why’d you want me to have it?’

  ‘Going against my natural instinct, I’m inclined to believe you could actually be the real thing, an oddity, a straight cop. A good cop, even.’

  ‘That’s a compliment?’

  ‘Save this little girl. Put every resource you have into finding her.’

  ‘You believe she’s still alive, even after all this time?’

  ‘What I think doesn’t matter. It’s what you do after you’ve watch the disc. Apart from doing the right thing, this will be a feather in your cap towards promotion.’

  ‘And will make me eternally grateful to you, of course.’

  ‘You’re a very cynical person. Anyone ever tell you that?’

  Chambers looked at Karl, then the disc, before pocketing it.

  Karl sipped on the coffee, and stood to leave.

  ‘You’re leaving?’

  ‘I have to be careful about being seen talking to cops. Might make some of my clients nervous. Don’t forget to keep me posted on any developments in both cases. I have two brave grandparents waiting anxiously.’

  ‘You’re an enigma, Kane. I still haven’t figured which category you fall into.’

  ‘Good guy, bad guy?’

  ‘That’s right. And just to make it clear: I do everything above board. What I don’t do is quid pro quo.’

  ‘That’s your prerogative. Oh, and talking of quid, pay the bill, and leave a good tip for Mary, like a pro. Take it out of that ten quid you still owe me.’

  Karl headed out the door, feeling not only Chambers’ eyes following him right out into the street, but the eyes of other cops.

  Almost an hour later, Karl turned on to Hill Street, heading for home, carrying blueberry muffins and freshly-brewed coffee from Clements. An early morning treat for Naomi.

  As he was about to cross the road towards his apartment, a man brushed against him, almost knocking the bag of pastries and coffee from Karl’s hand.

  The man turned, looked intently at Karl, as if awaiting an apology.

  ‘That’s all right, mate,’ Karl said, half smiling. ‘You weren’t watching where you were…’

  Karl stared at the man. Tall. Heavy set. A large deep scar, running from either side of his face, forming a craggy ‘Z’ all the way to the chin.

  The man walked on, no response coming from his lips.

  In an instant, Karl found breathing difficult. The street was swooning, in grey, concrete waves. He tried to move. Impossible. Paralysis. The waves began swallowing him. The bag of coffee and muffins slipped from his hands, bursting onto the pavement.

  An elderly lady, aided by a cane, approached, concern on her face. ‘You okay, son?’

  ‘Huh…?’

  ‘I said, are you okay? You look faint.’

  Karl’s glance shot up and down the street. Man with scar gone. Was he ever there?

  ‘Come along,’ the elderly lady said, taking Karl’s arm and pointing her cane at a family of chairs outside a café. ‘We’ll sit down here for a moment, and you can catch your breath. I’ll get you a nice cup of tea.’

  ‘It’s…it’s okay. I live just across the street. Thank…thank you. I appreciate your kindness.’

  The lady kept her eyes on Karl, watching him shakily cross the narrow road and head towards Hill Street.

  Inside the apartment, Karl went straight to a wardrobe in the spare bedroom. Opened it. Fished out the pill box from beneath a tower of books and magazines. Slipped three of the pills into his hand, before putting everything back in the wardrobe. Headed into the living room. From a small drinking cabinet, he extracted a bottle of Hennessy and a glass. Filled the glass to the brim. Popped the three pills down his neck, followed by the brandy, all in one swallow. Began pouring another brandy just as Naomi showed up at the door, her angry face on, arms folded tightly.

&n
bsp; ‘Karl, what are you up to, drinking this early? What… what’s wrong? What’s happened?’

  Karl quickly took a slug of the brandy. Sat down heavily on the sofa. Tried steadying shaking hands.

  ‘I…think I just bumped into Walter Arnold – literally.’

  ‘What…?’ Naomi’s face registered shock and horror. She sat down beside him. ‘But…he’s in prison. Are you sure it was him?’

  ‘It…looked like him. It happened so fast. This guy’s face was badly scarred. Arnold’s face was scarred just the same way, from an attack in prison, years ago. I think I saw him a couple of weeks ago, too, when I was at the Naughton home.’

  ‘What…? Are you certain?’

  ‘It’s only coming back to me now. I didn’t get a good enough look at him then. Wasn’t positive. He’s obviously been tailing me, everywhere I go.’

  Naomi didn’t look too convinced.

  ‘You’ve been under so much stress lately, then all the nightmares, Karl. Perhaps…’

  ‘Perhaps what? Perhaps I’m seeing things? Perhaps I’m flying over the cuckoo’s nest?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that. Just that it’s so strange. One minute we’re talking about him; the next thing we know, he appears out of thin air, popping up everywhere. Karl, why don’t you call the parole people? Find out if he’s been released? That would help ease your mind.’

  ‘I was going to do that, but I’m almost dreading the thought of what they might say. I may not like the answer.’

  ‘You’ve got to find out, just for your own…’ Naomi’s voice trailed off.

  ‘Sanity?’

  ‘Of course not. “Peace of mind” is what I was going to say.’

  Karl fished the mobile from his pocket. Looked at it for a few seconds, before hitting CONTACT NUMBERS. Parole Board NI. Pressed the button. Silence, then dial tone. A voice on the other end.

  ‘Parole Board of Northern Ireland. David Brown speaking. How may I help?’