The Triumph of Katie Byrne

The Triumph of Katie Byrne Barbara Taylor Bradford A riveting novel that begins with a murder in an old Connecticut barn and reaches its climax on Broadway.We first meet Katie Byrne at seventeen. A tall beauty with reddish-gold hair, she has always wanted to be an actress. Her two best friends share her passion for the theatre, and the three girls have spent much of their childhood rehearsing plays in an old barn in Connecticut. Leaving early one day to help her mother prepare dinner, Katie realizes she has left her schoolbooks at the barn and she and her older brother return to retrieve them. When they arrive, they find the barn, the setting of so many happy dreams, has become the scene of a nightmare: one of Katie's friends has been raped and murdered, and the other lies unconscious.Ten years later, Katie, a struggling actress in New York, is still haunted by the tragedy. Her friend Carly remains in a coma, and Katie desperately wants to achieve success and stardom not only for herself but also for her two old friends. Her big chance comes when she is discovered and wins a major role in a Broadway play. A promising love affair adds to the excitement of working on Broadway; but Katie must face the demons of the past before she can embrace the possibilities of the future. The Triumph Of Katie Byrne Barbara Taylor Bradford Copyright (#) Published by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF www.harpercollins.co.uk (http://www.harpercollins.co.uk) First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2001 Copyright © Beaji Enterprises, Inc 2001 The Author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books. Ebook Edition © DECEMBER 2009 ISBN: 9780007330645 Version: 2017-11-16 This book is for my husband, Bob, with my love and thanks for making everything always so special. Table of Contents Cover Page (#u0a869b1a-1FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474) Title Page (#u0a869b1a-2FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474) Copyright (#u0a869b1a-3FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474) Dedication (#u0a869b1a-4FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474) PART ONE Kiss of Death (#u0a869b1a-6FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474) Chapter One (#u0a869b1a-7FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474) Chapter Two (#u0a869b1a-8FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474) Chapter Three (#u0a869b1a-9FFF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474) Chapter Four (#u0a869b1a-10FF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474) Chapter Five (#u0a869b1a-11FF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474) Chapter Six (#u0a869b1a-12FF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474) Chapter Seven (#u0a869b1a-13FF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474) Chapter Eight (#u0a869b1a-14FF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474) Chapter Nine (#u0a869b1a-15FF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474) Chapter Ten (#u0a869b1a-16FF-11e9-9e03-0cc47a520474) Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo) PART TWO Gift of Friendship (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twenty-one (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twenty-two (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twenty-three (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twenty-four (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twenty-five (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twenty-six (#litres_trial_promo) PART THREE Touch of Love (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twenty-seven (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twenty-eight (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Twenty-nine (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Thirty (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Thirty-one (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Thirty-two (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Thirty-three (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Thirty-four (#litres_trial_promo) Chapter Thirty-five (#litres_trial_promo) Acknowledgements (#litres_trial_promo) About the Author (#litres_trial_promo) Other Books By (#litres_trial_promo) About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo) PART ONE Kiss of Death (#) Connecticut, 1989 ‘…break off this last lamenting kiss, Which sucks two souls, and vapours both away.’ JOHN DONNE ‘The coward does it with a kiss.’ OSCAR WILDE Chapter One (#) The girl sat on a narrow bench, centre stage, her body bent forward, one elbow on her knee, a hand supporting her head. The thinker, deeply thinking, her body language seemed to convey. She was dressed very simply, boyishly, in a loose, grey, knitted tunic cinched by a black leather belt, worn with black tights and ballet slippers. Her long, reddish-gold hair was plaited, the plaits wound tightly around her head, so that the finished effect was like a burnished-copper cap gleaming under the pin-spot shining down. The girl’s name was Katie Byrne and she was seventeen: acting was her entire life. She was about to act for her favourite audience – an audience of two: her best friends, Carly Smith and Denise Matthews. They sat on straight-backed wooden chairs in front of the makeshift stage in the old barn which belonged to Ted Matthews, Denise’s uncle. Both girls were the same age as Katie, and had been friends since childhood; all three were members of the amateur acting group at the high school in the rural Connecticut area where they all lived. Katie had chosen to perform a speech from one of Shakespeare’s plays at the school’s upcoming Christmas concert. It was only two months away, and she had recently begun to rehearse the piece; Carly and Denise were also perfecting their chosen speeches for the same concert, rehearsing with her in the barn almost every day. Now, at last, Katie lifted her head, stared out into space, and focused her blue eyes on the back wall of the barn, as if she saw something visible only to herself. Taking a deep breath, she began. ‘To be, or not to be, that is the question: Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing, end them. To die –’ Abruptly, Katie stopped. She jumped up off the bench, walked to the edge of the stage, looked down at her friends. Shaking her head, she seemed unexpectedly uncertain of herself, she who normally had such confidence and self-possession. ‘I’m not getting it right,’ Katie wailed. ‘Yes, you are, and you’re wonderful!’ Carly cried, rising, stepping closer to the stage, the stage on which they had started to act when they were children. ‘Nobody does Shakespeare the way you do it. You’re the best, Katie.’ ‘Carly’s right,’ Denise agreed as she went to join Carly near the stage. ‘It’s the way you act the words, say them. You make sense out of them, and there’s never been a Hamlet like you.’ Katie burst out laughing. ‘Thanks for your compliment, Denny, but there were a few others before me…Laurence Olivier and Richard Burton, to name a couple of them…they were the greatest classical actors on the English-speaking stage, just as Christopher Plummer is the greatest classical actor today. And listen, I keep telling you, it’s all to do with understanding the meaning of the words, the motivation and intention behind them. And also with punctuation, knowing when to run the words on without pause, and when to pause to breathe…’ She let the sentence trail off, knowing now was not the right time to give Denise another acting lesson. Returning to the bench, she seated herself, adopted the thinker’s position, which was comfortable for her, and sat ruminating for a moment or two. Whatever her friends said, however much praise they lavished on her, Katie knew that her performance was slightly off today. Her concentration was not what it usually was, and she wasn’t sure why. Unless it was because she felt guilty at being here this afternoon. Her mother wasn’t well, and she was needed at home to help out. And yet, selfishly, she had decided to steal this time at the barn in order to rehearse the speech from Hamlet, and persuaded her friends to come with her after school. Then rehearse, a small voice inside her head instructed. She took several deep breaths, relaxed her throat, let the stillness of the stage envelop her, calm her. Within minutes she was ready, and she launched herself into Hamlet’s soliloquy, her natural self-confidence perfectly in place once more. Listening attentively, Carly was transported by Katie’s voice, as she always was. There was a lovely resonance to it, full of nuances and feeling. No wonder, Carly said to herself, thinking of the way Katie practised, was endlessly training her voice. They all knew how serious she was about acting. Katie was dedicated, disciplined, and very determined to succeed. Somehow, Katie knew how to act the parts she had chosen without having had too many lessons, while Denise and she sort of stumbled along as best they could. Fortunately, they were improving, thanks to Katie’s relentless coaching and encouragement. They had first started acting together seven years ago, ten-year-olds with stars in their eyes. Denise’s Uncle Ted had let them make use of the old barn at the far end of his property, and they had created a makeshift theatre out of it. At that time they had made a promise to each other, had vowed they would go to New York one day and start their acting careers in earnest. Making it to Broadway was their big dream. Katie kept promising that the three of them would move to the city once they finished high school, and that eventually they would be stars on the Great White Way. Carly hoped this would come true, that they would have their names in lights, but sometimes she was filled with doubts. Denise had no doubts whatsoever, and as she sat next to Carly, watching Katie on the stage, relishing her performance, she was absolutely positive that their dreams would soon materialize. Katie was brilliant, there was no question, and they themselves were getting better and better, mostly because of Katie’s intense lessons. When they went to New York they would find an apartment to share, go to acting school, and become professional actresses. It was all going to work, the dream would become reality, she was convinced. Katie suddenly stood up, moved downstage right, and continued, ‘To die, to sleep – No more, and by a sleep to say we end the heartache and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to: ’tis a consummation devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep – To sleep, perchance to dream…’ Flawlessly, and without faltering once, Katie went on to complete this most famous of Shakespearean speeches, her well-modulated voice rising and falling as she gave emphasis to certain words, less importance to others. And the quality of her acting was superb; after her initial hesitation, her seeming loss of confidence, she had gone forward sure-footedly. When Katie was finally finished, she remained motionless for a second or two, her cornflower-blue eyes still focused in the distance, and then she blinked several times before glancing at Carly and Denise. And then she smiled at them broadly, sure in the knowledge that she had managed to get the speech right at last. Her friends began to clap and cheer and they bounded up onto the stage enthusiastically, hugged her, congratulated her. ‘Thanks,’ she said, grinning in return, and hugging them back. ‘But don’t you think I should rehearse again tomorrow, just to make sure?’ They both drew away and gaped at her in astonishment. Denise cried, ‘You don’t need another rehearsal! But we do. And you’ve got to help us tomorrow. I’ll never get my Desdemona speech right, and Carly’s still having trouble with her Portia, aren’t you, Carly?’ ‘I am a bit.’ Carly sounded miserable. Then her voice changed, became more positive as she added, ‘As for you, Katie Byrne, you’re just awesome.’ ‘We’re not going to let you hog the stage tomorrow, ’ Denise announced with a grin, adding in a mock-threatening voice, ‘You’re going to rehearse us, because we still need it. And if you don’t, you might find yourself going off to be a Broadway actress all by yourself!’ ‘Never. You’ll both be with me,’ Katie declared, pulling the girls closer, putting an arm around each one of them, glancing at Denise admiringly. Her velvet-brown eyes, full of hidden depths, were sparkling. She was never anything but high-spirited and happy, bubbling with laughter and good humour. She had a kind of golden radiance about her, with her long blonde hair and pink-and-white porcelain skin. She was a genuine All-American beauty, slender, shapely and long-legged. In contrast, Carly, who had been Katie’s closest friend since they were toddlers, was very different. She was quieter, had a more introspective demeanour, was a little fey at times, and her seductive, rather dramatic looks belied her retiring, gentle nature. Eyeing her, Katie thought that even in her school clothes she looked voluptuous. Carly had a beautiful diminutive figure, and with her short dark curls and pansy-violet eyes had the look of a young Elizabeth Taylor. With a sudden rush of emotion, Katie felt her abiding friendship and love for them both flowing through her…they were her dearest, her very best friends. ‘It’s the three of us or nothing!’ Katie exclaimed emphatically. ‘And I’ll be glad to rehearse with you tomorrow. But listen up you two, you’re much better than you think. Just remember that.’ Carly and Denise beamed on hearing these words, but neither girl made a comment and, arms linked, the three of them left the stage together. As they always did, they went through the long-established ritual of sitting at the table drinking a bottle of Coke each. Today they were intent on dissecting Katie’s performance, and generally discussing their parts, their set pieces for the concert. It was Carly who changed the subject, when she suddenly straightened in her chair and said to Katie, ‘Do you think your Aunt Bridget will be able to find us an apartment in New York? Do you really think it’s all going to happen for us?’ Katie nodded. ‘I do. Absolutely. And she said we can stay with her at the loft in Tribeca for as long as we want.’ Denise interjected, ‘Mrs Cooke is sure we’ll be able to get into the American Academy of Dramatic Arts. She even said she’ll help us.’ Denise reached out, squeezed Carly’s arm. ‘Don’t be such a worry wart.’ Carly let out a sigh, then she leaned back in the chair, relaxing, sipping her Coke. After a moment, she said in a reflective voice, ‘Just think, next year at this time we’ll be in the big city, attending drama classes and camping out at Aunt Bridget’s fancy loft.’ ‘Hey, it’s not all that fancy,’ Katie exclaimed, grinning at her. ‘But it’s comfortable, I’ll say that.’ She jumped up, headed towards the curtained alcove which they used as a changing room. Pulling the curtain open, she stepped inside, then swung her head, explained, ‘I’ve got to hurry, I’m really late to help Mom with supper.’ She eyed the Portia and Desdemona costumes and other items strewn around haphazardly, and shook her head. ‘I just don’t have time to help you tidy up, I’m sorry.’ ‘That’s no problem,’ Carly assured her. ‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter if it’s messy in here. Nobody ever comes to the barn except us.’ ‘Uncle Ted says that after all these years it’s ours.’ Denise looked from Carly to Katie and grinned, then reached for the copy of Othello which lay on the table. She started to flip through the pages of the play looking for the part she was learning. Katie disappeared behind the curtain; Carly opened The Merchant of Venice, wanting to study Portia’s famous ‘quality of mercy’ speech, wondering if she would ever master it, worrying about it again, as she had for several weeks. Within seconds, Katie was stepping out of the curtained alcove, wearing her school clothes and struggling into her jacket. ‘See you in class tomorrow,’ she said, as she rushed across the floor to the door. Denise flashed her bright smile and Carly, looking up, asked, ‘Can you please bring the long black wig tomorrow, Katie? I think it might work for my Portia.’ ‘Yes, it’ll look great on you. I’ll bring it to school, Carly.’ She waved nonchalantly over her shoulder as she left the barn. Chapter Two (#) Katie closed the heavy barn door behind her and shrugged deeper into her jacket. It had turned cold and she shivered as she hurried up the hill leading to the highway. Her mind was still on Carly and Denise. They were so much better than they realized, good actresses who were accomplished and knew what they were doing. But they didn’t give themselves enough credit, genuinely needed to gain more self-confidence, that was their main problem. Mrs Cooke, their teacher, who ran the drama group and taught acting at the high school, predicted great things for them all in the next few years, because of their talent, dedication, and willingness to work hard. It pleased Katie that Heather Cooke believed in them with such conviction that she was encouraging their ambition to work in the theatre. Katie trudged on up the steep slope, continuing to think about her best friends, imagining what it would be like to be living in New York and studying at the academy. She could hardly wait for the time to come and she knew Carly and Denise felt the same way. Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, she saw rapid movement close to the mass of rhododendron bushes growing in profusion on the hillside. She stopped abruptly, half turned, stood frowning in puzzlement at the clump of dark-green bushes. But everything was still, silent, and there was no sign of life. Shrugging dismissively, Katie continued on up the slope, deciding that the dark flash must have been a deer. There were a great number of them in the Litchfield hills, and they were becoming bolder. Everyone’s gardens, her mother’s included, attested to that fact. Within minutes, the hillside flattened out into a piece of barren land that stretched all the way to the highway. This cut through New Milford, ran up to Kent and the small towns beyond. Katie paused at the side of the road to let a truck pass, and then ran across to the other side. A second or two later she was on the dirt track that led through the wide meadows behind Dovecote Farm, a local landmark with its picturesque red barns and silos, and, in the summer, lush fields of rippling golden wheat. At one moment, as she walked along, she glanced up. The sky had turned the colour of old iron, bitter, remote, and forbidding. Dusk was slowly descending and the meadows were beginning to fill with shadows. Wanting to get home as fast as possible, she began to jog down the track, and found herself plunging deeper into the fields. But soon she realized she must slow down. A faint mist was rising, wispy and vaporous, floating in front of her like a grey veil; trees and hedges were rapidly becoming blurred, turning into weird inchoate shapes looming all around her. Having tramped this dirt track from early childhood, her feet knew it well. Nevertheless, she found herself moving at a snail’s pace, growing more cautious, afraid of stumbling in the thick fog. Far off, in the distance, she heard cows lowing, and even farther away a dog was barking. These distant sounds were reassuring in their familiarity, yet still she felt a loneliness pervading the deserted fields, a strange sense of melancholy, and she was unexpectedly uneasy. It had grown even colder. She pulled her jacket around her chest, moving faster again, growing conscious of the time, as usual worrying about her mother. It did not take Katie much longer to reach the end of the dirt path, and she finally came to the wide road which led into the area where she lived with her parents and her two brothers, Niall and Finian. Malvern had been founded in 1799, and it was called a town, but it wasn’t even a hamlet, not really. It was a scattering of houses, a couple of shops, a cemetery, a white church with a steeple, poised on top of the hill, and a recreational hall near the church. To Katie, the white church had always seemed like a brave little sentinel standing guard above the houses nestled so cosily below in a hollow of the hills. It was with a sense of relief that she hit this main road. She stepped out onto the smooth tarmacadam surface, glancing back at the mist-laden meadows as she did, and she suddenly realized how glad she was to be leaving them behind. There had been something strange, almost ghostly, about those empty fields. Slowing down as the road swept upwards to the church, Katie began her climb, her pace steady. When she reached the top she stood for a moment looking down at Malvern. She could make out the twinkling lights shining in the windows of the houses scattered across the hillsides, and the mingled smell of woodsmoke and damp leaves floated to her on the chill night air. She was suddenly struck by a sense of an early autumn, and she smiled. Fall was her favourite time of year, when the foliage turned gold and russet and red, and her grandmother baked upsidedown apple tart and cinnamon cakes, and the entire family prepared for Thanksgiving and Christmas. Fall was the beginning of the holiday season which her mother loved so much. As Katie passed the forest of Scotch pine trees on the right side of the road, her nose twitched, assailed as it was by the sharp, pungent smell of pine. How reassuring everything was now that she was out of the damp meadows. Soon she would be home, where her mother was waiting for her. They would prepare supper for the family, set the table together and serve the food. A loving smile flickered across Katie’s wan face, giving it a touch of radiance, lighting up her blue eyes. Although Katie loved her two girlfriends and was devoted to them, it was her mother who was the most special person in her life, to whom she was the closest, and whom she idolized. She thought of her mother as a faerie princess from Ireland. Certainly she was beautiful, with her flowing red hair and the bluest of eyes, which Katie had inherited. To Katie, her mother’s voice was mellifluous, warm, soft, resonant, touched with a hint of lilting brogue. These thoughts of her mother galvanized her, and she began to run once more, her feet flying as she sped down the hill. Chapter Three (#) As her parents’ house came finally into full view, Katie was filled with a sudden rush of warmth, a sense of homecoming, and she continued to run, speeding down the road towards home as fast as she could. Medium in size, and compact, the house sat atop a small hillock set back from the main road, and it was the only home Katie had ever known. She loved it dearly, as did her parents and her two brothers. Tonight bright lights gleamed in some of the downstairs windows and plumes of grey smoke spiralled up from the chimneys; the house wore an air of friendliness, of welcome, and it appeared to beckon beguilingly. Katie’s glance swept over it as she climbed the flight of stone steps; these cut down through the green lawn which sloped away from the flagged terrace at the front facing the road. For a moment she paused to admire the house, and her pleasure in its appearance brought a quick, bright smile to her face. New England Colonial in style, it had a white-painted clapboard fa?ade, dark-green shutters and a slanted, black roof. The original house dated back to the 1880s, and although its good bones had been retained throughout, some of the interior rooms had either been restored or remodelled by her father. Michael Byrne prided himself on his knowledge of Colonial architecture, which he had always loved, and, in fact, he had turned his boyhood passion into a profitable business a few years after leaving school. He was one of the few local contractors who had a superior knowledge of Colonial design, and because of this he had managed to find plenty of building and restoration jobs, once he had established himself in business. Katie’s father and her elder brother, Niall, kept the house looking pristine, and devoted a great deal of their free time to its care and upkeep. It seemed to Katie that they never had a paintbrush out of their hands, and even her younger brother, Finian, the intellectual with his nose permanently in a book, did occasionally put the book down to dip a brush into a pot of white paint. It struck her often that twelve-year-old Finian was now as addicted as the other two males in the family. When Katie reached the terrace she veered to her right, headed for the side door and went into the house. A blast of lovely warm air hit her in the face as she stepped into the back hall and closed the door behind her. Once she had hung her jacket on a wall peg, she hurried down the corridor to the big family kitchen. This had always been the hub of the house, the spot where everyone congregated, and it was a congenial and comfortable room. This evening it was filled with a warm rosy glow which emanated from the old Victorian glass lamps, placed strategically around the room, and the pile of logs blazing in the big stone fireplace. Pieces of copper and brass winked and gleamed in this lambent light, and the room was alive with the most cheerful of sounds…the fire crackling and sputtering in the hearth, the kettle whistling atop the stove, the clock ticking on the mantel, and, in the background, soft music playing on the radio. And even the air itself was special, weighted with the most delicious mixture of mouthwatering smells…an apple pie put out to cool on a board near the sink, loaves of bread baking in the oven, an Irish stew simmering in a huge pot and emitting fragrant wafts of steam. For a split second, Katie stood in the shadows by the door, breathing all this in, wallowing in the sheer joy of the familiar and much-loved atmosphere…the cosiness, the smell of her mother’s appetizing cooking, the warmth after the cold meadows. But most of all she relished the feeling of safety, the sense of belonging that came from being a cherished member of her family. Her best girlfriends were not so lucky, she knew that, which made her appreciate her own family that much more. Carly, more often than not, went home to an empty house, because her mother worked at an old people’s home and kept most peculiar hours, and her father was long dead. As for Denise, she was in much the same situation, in a sense. Her parents owned a small bar and restaurant in nearby Kent, and they were always there cooking and serving their customers at all hours of the day and night. Even so, it wasn’t all that profitable, according to Denise. Katie often wondered why they bothered to keep it open; she supposed it was the only way they knew how to eke out a living. Of the three of them, Katie had long realized that she was the one who was the most fortunate, the one who had been truly blessed. Even though her mother also worked, she did so at home, keeping the books and doing the paperwork for the Byrne family business. She had a small office at the top of the house, and so she was always there for Katie and Finian. Niall, who was nineteen, was already working with his father in the building company. At last Katie took a step forward and moved into the kitchen. Her mother was standing near the stove with a spatula in her hand, and she straightened and glanced over her shoulder on hearing the sound of footsteps. At the sight of her daughter, Maureen Byrne’s face lit up. ‘Well, there you are, Katie Mary Bridget Byrne! But late again, so I see.’ ‘I’m sorry, Mom, I really am. I got caught up with another rehearsal.’ Rushing across the floor, Katie flung her arms around her mother and hugged her tightly. Maureen Erin O’Keefe Byrne was the best. The very best. Against her mother’s hair, Katie whispered, ‘I’ll make up for it, Momma. I’ll finish the cooking and set the table and do the dishes later. Just say you’re not angry with me.’ Drawing away, Maureen stared into her daughter’s bright blue eyes, twin reflections of her own, and said with a light laugh, ‘Oh don’t be so silly, mavourneen, of course I’m not mad at you. And don’t worry, there’s nothing much left to do, at least there’s no cooking anyway. Still, you could be setting the table for me…that’s a grand idea.’ Katie nodded and exclaimed, ‘I do feel awful, Mom, letting you down this way. You’ve had to do everything yourself and you’re not well yet. I should have been home earlier.’ She bit her lip, guilt-ridden, knowing her mother was still debilitated after her six-week bout with bronchitis. ‘Oh get along with you, Katie, ‘tis not important, and I’m feeling much better today. Besides, Finian helped me.’ Her lilting laugh rang out again. ‘Why, that boy’s becoming the perfect little assistant, I can tell you.’ Katie laughed with her, peered around the kitchen and asked, ‘And where is our little scholar?’ ‘I suspect he’s off watching TV in the back room. I told him he could, once he’d peeled the vegetables, put out the garbage, and washed the pans in the sink. He’s a good boy really.’ Thinking out loud, Katie murmured, ‘I wonder why Finian has suddenly decided to become such a paragon of virtue, Mom? Could there be an ulterior motive?’ Maureen nodded. ‘I’m sure of it, Katie. He’s trying to please me for some reason.’ She smiled indulgently. ‘He’s a nice boy, but he’s brilliant, and like you I also think he’s plotting something. But what that is I can’t imagine. ‘Tis not important, darlin’.’ ‘I guess not,’ Katie agreed, knowing that her mother was correct about Finian’s brilliance. He had an extraordinary mind for a boy of twelve, and in some ways he was old beyond his years. Maureen, meanwhile, brought her attention back to the stove, began to stir the onions she was frying in the skillet, explaining, ‘I’ll pop these in the lamb stew for a bit of extra flavour, then I’ll help you set the table. After that we can –’ Maureen did not finish her sentence. She broke off, unexpectedly afflicted with a violent attack of coughing. Putting the spatula down quickly, she dug into her apron pocket for a tissue and covered her mouth with it. The coughing went on for so long Katie became alarmed, and she eyed her mother with apprehension. ‘Are you all right, Mom? Can I get you anything? What can I do?’ Maureen was unable to answer; she simply averted her head. Katie cried, ‘Why don’t you sit down? I’ll finish everything.’ Gradually Maureen became quieter, and she finally murmured, ‘I’m fine, Katie darlin’. Don’t fuss so.’ ‘Take it easy now, Momma. I can set the table by myself,’ Katie answered in a more assertive voice, and immediately strode over to the Welsh dresser in the corner of the room. After taking down the white plates they used every day, she carried them over to the large square table near the picture window. The table had already been covered with a red-and-white checked cloth, and once she had deposited the plates, she went to get the other items they needed for supper. Maureen had completely recovered, and she began to spoon the onions into the stew. Without looking up, she remarked, ‘Once you’ve set the table, it would be nice if you made a cup of tea for us, Katie. I’d like that.’ ‘Yes, Mom, I will.’ Eventually Maureen walked over to the hearth and stood with her back to it, observing her daughter flitting around the kitchen. The girl was her pride and joy. She doted on her, spoiled her, yet she tempered her love with a great deal of discipline. Maureen was a hard taskmaster, especially when it came to school, homework, and household chores. How alike we are in so many ways, especially physically, Maureen thought, yet we don’t have the same character or personality. We’re entirely different on that score. She’s more ambitious and driven than I was, and she wants so much more than I ever did. Katie wants the world in her arms…she wants the stage, the bright lights, the excitement, the applause, the success, and the fame. Yes, she wants it all, and of course she’ll get it, I’ve no doubts about that. For a moment or two Maureen thought about her own life. I got what I wanted, thank God, so why shouldn’t Katie? Her dreams and desires, hopes and aspirations are very different from mine, but hers are just as real as mine. I craved marriage and a family, and I was fortunate that I found a good man, a man who loved me, still loves me, and whom I love. And I have fine, healthy, drug-free, responsible children, and a comfortable home, a beautiful garden, and a happy life in the country with my family. That was my greatest ambition, the dream I dreamed, and it did come true. I’ve been so blessed since I came to America. The year had been 1960 and she had been exactly the same age as Katie was now – just seventeen. And her sister Bridget had been nineteen. They had emigrated with their parents, Sean and Catriona O’Keefe, and settled in New York. They had been lucky in that they had all found work relatively quickly; Bridget had opted for a career in real estate and had joined a small but prestigious firm, and Maureen had become the showroom model for the great designer Pauline Trig?re, who, once she had seen her, had decided her long, lean figure was ideal for the elegant and superbly-cut clothes the designer created. Her mother, Catriona, had also gone into fashion, in her own way; she had become a saleslady on the designer floor at Bloomingdale’s department store. Her father, Sean, a master craftsman, had found a job with a custom-design furniture maker down on East Tenth Street, and had rapidly made a name for himself. Looking back now, Maureen realized she had truly fond memories of their days in Forest Hills, where they had had an apartment. They had carved out a nice life for themselves and had forever rejoiced in the fact that they had had the courage to start their lives all over again by coming to America. But as the years passed they had begun to grow weary of the city, wanted to escape the hurly-burly, yearned to find a quiet spot that was reminiscent of the Irish countryside they loved. It was while they were visiting friends, who had recently moved to northwestern Connecticut, that they recognized they had found what they called God’s country. ‘This is it!’ her mother had said that day, and they had all agreed with Catriona. A decision was made on the spot: this was where they belonged. It took over a year, but finally she and her parents moved to New Milford, where they had found a house that had charm and comfort and wasn’t overpriced. Bridget, captivated by her wheeling and dealing in real estate, elected to remain in the city during the week, and came out to Connecticut at weekends. She had been twenty-three when they moved to the country, and she had met Michael Byrne within the first few months of her arrival in New Milford. It had been love at first sight for both of them. He was the type of man she had always pictured in her mind’s eye as being right for her…tall, dark, nice-looking, and kind, with a loving nature. They had married when she was twenty-five and Michael twenty-seven, and it had worked. It was still working. I got married twenty years ago, she suddenly thought, a small frown pinching her eyebrows together, making a tight knot above the bridge of her nose. How fast the time has flown. I can’t believe I’m forty-five already. She didn’t feel it, and she knew she didn’t look it. She sighed, remembering all of the things she still wanted to do in her life. I must do them before I’m too old, before Michael’s too old, she added, reminding herself to talk to him about that long-promised trip to Ireland. Glancing across the kitchen, Maureen saw Katie was now standing by the stove, filling a brown teapot with water. They might be different in character and personality, but there was no question that they were mother and daughter. They were practically identical in appearance, with the same colouring and build. Sitting down in the wing chair next to the fireplace, Maureen settled herself comfortably against the chair back, her gaze still on Katie, her middle child and her only daughter. She had always known deep within her Celtic soul that Katie was different from other children. Her daughter’s personality and character were already in place the day she was born. Even as a toddler of three years Katie had known exactly who she was and what she wanted, and she had been determined. Maureen had frequently told Michael that their daughter had an unusual awareness of herself, which was manifested in an amazing inner confidence. But he knew that without having to be told; she was unusual. Yet Katie had never been bratty nor had she been precocious in an objectionable way. There had been moments when Maureen had looked at her three-year-old daughter and seen the woman she would become, so well defined was the child’s personality and character. Maybe we’re all like that, Maureen thought, only perhaps it’s not so obvious in every one of us. She cast her mind back to Niall’s childhood, and to Finian’s as well, but they had been…well, just ordinary little boys, and certainly not particularly self-possessed or as definite and determined as their sister. Thoughts of her sons were interrupted when Katie came over to the fireside with two cups of tea. After handing one to her mother, she sat down in the other wing chair next to the fire. ‘Thank you, darlin’,’ Maureen said and took a sip of the tea. ‘It’s good,’ she murmured, smiling across at her daughter. ‘So, you were at the barn rehearsing, were you?’ Katie nodded. ‘I think I’ve got my Hamlet right at last. I always thought the soliloquy was easy, but it’s not, Mom. Not if you’re going to do it properly.’ Katie sighed and made a face. ‘I say I’ve got it, but there’s lots of room for improvement.’ She nodded to herself. ‘There’s always room for improvement, and perfection is hard won.’ Maureen smiled, wondering whom Katie was quoting now. There were times when her girl sounded like a little old woman, especially when she’d been dipping into the classics. She asked, ‘And what about the others? How’re Carly and Denise doing?’ ‘They’re good, Momma, I know that. The trouble is, they don’t. I think I’m getting them to believe in themselves more. It’s all to do with self-confidence.’ Which you’ve never lacked, Maureen thought, but said, ‘You should have brought them back to supper, Katie. There’s always enough for everyone, and especially when it’s Irish stew. Your father says I always make enough to feed Cox’s army.’ ‘I thought about asking them, but I decided it’d be too much for you. You’ve been so sick.’ ‘I’m much better, darlin’.’ The door at the other end of the kitchen flew open, and Finian came rumbling in. ‘Hi, there, Katie!’ he cried. ‘Hi, Fin.’ ‘I prefer Finian,’ the twelve-year-old announced. ‘Oh, sorry,’ Katie replied, hiding her amusement. This was something new with him. ‘That’s okay. But Finian is my name.’ He glanced at his mother. ‘Do you need me to help again, Mom?’ She shook her head. ‘No, Fin…er, Finian. But thanks for asking. Do you want a mug of tea?’ ‘No thanks.’ He shook his head and went over to the refrigerator. ‘A Coke’ll be great.’ ‘What about your homework, Finian?’ his mother asked. He swung around and gave her a long look. ‘I’ve done it.’ Slightly puzzled and frowning at him, Maureen asked, ‘When?’ ‘Just now. When I was in the back room.’ He shrugged nonchalantly, explained, ‘I didn’t have a lot of it tonight. Just math.’ Nodding, Maureen gave him the benefit of a pleased smile and drank her tea. Katie sat bolt upright in the chair looking at her mother askance. ‘Am I stupid!’ she cried in a shrill tone. ‘I left my school bag at the barn! Oh Mom! My homework! What am I going to do?’ As she spoke she jumped up. ‘I’ll just have to go back.’ ‘Not now, Katie!’ Maureen exclaimed. ‘It’s far too dark already, and you know very well I won’t let you walk across the fields alone, so you can forget that!’ ‘But I need my books, Mom,’ Katie wailed, her expression woeful. ‘Yes, I know you do. But you’ll just have to wait for Niall to get home. He’ll go with you. Better still, he’ll run you down to the barn in his pickup. That’ll be the quickest. Fin, go and turn off the stew, please, and I’d better take the bread out of the oven.’ ‘It’s Finian, Mom,’ the boy muttered. ‘My name’s Finian, like in Finian’s Rainbow. That’s a musical.’ Maureen stared at him, wondering what he would come out with next. Chapter Four (#) Katie kept herself absolutely still, remained quiet as she sat next to her brother in his pickup truck. She felt certain he was annoyed because he had to drive her to the old barn, so that she could retrieve her school books. When he had arrived home from work a short while ago, he hadn’t appeared to be put out by their mother’s request, and had agreed readily enough to run her to the barn. But he had been totally silent as they had driven away from the house and headed in the direction of the highway. Several times Katie stole a glance at Niall, wondering whether to start chatting or not. Usually he was talkative, discussed all sorts of things and confided in her, as she did in him. He was only two years older than her and they had always been close when they were growing up, best friends. The two of them had treated Finian as the baby, being either condescending or indifferent. Until he had become too clever by far to ignore. Although they had eventually accepted him, treated Finian amiably enough, they had never really let him in, and he hadn’t seemed to care, much to their surprise. Katie and Niall knew each other inside out, and now, as she cast another glance at him, she realized how preoccupied he looked. His normally smiling face was set in serious lines as he drove on at a steady speed, and she wondered what was going on in his head. Perhaps he was having trouble with his girlfriend, Jennifer Wilson. Women were attracted to Niall, usually threw themselves at him, and no wonder. He was as handsome as their father with his black hair, green eyes, and angular, masculine face. Niall’s features were well defined, as were their father’s, and their very macho looks harked back to their Byrne ancestors, who had come over from Ireland in the nineteenth century to settle in Connecticut. It was Niall who finally broke the silence and interrupted her thoughts when he said, ‘You’re very quiet tonight, Katie.’ Startled, she sat up straighter, and exclaimed, with a small laugh, ‘I could say the same about you, Niall! And you’re certainly looking serious. Is there something wrong?’ ‘No, no, nothing…I was just thinking…about you.’ ‘What about me?’ ‘Mostly your plans to go to New York next year. Do you really think Mom and Dad’ll let you?’ ‘Of course they will.’ She half turned in her seat, stared at her brother in the dim light, and went on swiftly, ‘Have they said something to you? I mean about not letting me go? Come on, tell me, Niall. We’ve never had any secrets before.’ When he remained silent, she said in a softer, pleading tone, ‘Please tell me.’ ‘They haven’t said a word, honest,’ Niall responded truthfully. ‘But I know they’re not too happy about the idea.’ ‘Why not?’ ‘Come on, Katie, don’t be dumb, that’s not like you. It’s obvious. They think you’re too young to go off by yourself to the big city.’ He sneaked a look at her out of the corner of his eye, then brought his gaze back to the road. ‘I’m sure they want you to put it off for a couple of years.’ ‘Mom’s never said anything like that to me, and neither has Dad. And why are you suddenly bringing it up tonight?’ she demanded, sounding heated all of a sudden. ‘I guess I wouldn’t have said anything if you hadn’t asked me if something was wrong. I was just being honest with you, because that’s what I was thinking about…you going off to New York. And I suppose it came into my mind because we’re on our way to the barn, where you spend most of your time playing actress.’ ‘I understand. But hey, listen up, Niall…I’ll be with Carly and Denise in New York. And don’t forget that Aunt Bridget’s there, and we’ll be staying with her.’ Niall exclaimed, ‘And for how long? Aunt Bridget’s got a big job in real estate and a life of her own. She’s not going to want the lot of you under her feet…at least not for very long.’ A fast denial sprang to Katie’s lips but she thought better of voicing it. Instead she took a deep breath and settled back in the seat, wondering if her parents had discussed this matter with him. But if they had, why wouldn’t he admit it? He had never held things back in the past. Finally, she asked in a low voice, ‘Tell me the truth, like you always have, Niall. Did Mom and Dad talk to you about my going to New York?’ ‘No, they didn’t, Katie. Honest to God they haven’t mentioned it. I’m only telling you what I personally think. I know what they’re like. They’re both very protective of you, and they’re right to be. I feel the same way myself.’ ‘Traitor,’ she muttered. ‘You’ve never mentioned that before, and you always said I should go to the academy once I graduate high school. Now, suddenly, you’re singing a different tune. All I’ve ever wanted to do is act, you know it’s my life.’ Niall let out a small sigh. He might have known she would adopt this attitude; he was beginning to wish he’d never said anything to her, never voiced his thoughts. ‘Let’s not quarrel, honey,’ he soothed gently. ‘Look, I’m sorry I brought it up. Forget it. Forget I ever said anything. When the time comes I’m sure they’ll agree, and let you go, especially if Aunt Bridget backs you up. And you’ll be with Denise and Carly, and that’ll help as well. After all, it’s not as if you’re going to New York by yourself.’ ‘No, I’m not, and I hope Mom and Dad will agree,’ Katie answered, and began to relax. Also, knowing it was better to let the matter drop, she adroitly changed the subject. ‘How’s Jennifer? You haven’t mentioned her lately.’ ‘I’m sort of cooling it,’ he muttered, and then laughed in an odd way. ‘She’s getting to be a bit of a pest, if you want the truth, Katie. Can you believe she wants to get married?’ ‘To you?’ Katie asked, her voice rising. ‘Who else?’ ‘You’re too young, Niall.’ ‘You bet I am. Anyway, Jennifer’s nice enough, don’t get me wrong, I just don’t want to start getting serious with her. She’s not the girl for me. I haven’t found her yet.’ For a split second Katie was silent, and then she murmured, ‘Funny, I thought you had once.’ Niall did not answer her but his hands tensed on the wheel. Eventually Katie said, ‘I used to think you were crazy about Denise last year. The look on your face was…unmistakable. I was sure you had fallen for her. I was positive you’d finally seen the light, discovered what she was really like, what a special person she is.’ ‘I guess I had…The problem was with Denise, not me. She’s hell bent on being an actress, having a career, going to New York with you and Carly. That’s what she wants, not me or any other guy, as far as I can see. When I was taking her out last year, did she ever mention me? Say anything to you?’ Katie shook her head. ‘No, I’ve told you that before. All she said was that you were nice.’ Katie frowned. ‘And I did repeat that to you at the time.’ Niall murmured, ‘I guess you did. Denise doesn’t want a boyfriend, at least not right now. What she wants is fame in capital letters. Her name in lights on a theatre.’ ‘I think so,’ Katie agreed. ‘But Denise is so beautiful and sweet, and Jennifer Wilson can’t hold a candle to her…’ ‘I know that.’ Niall slowed down as they came to the entrance to Ted Matthews’s land, where the old barn was located. He turned in and headed across the flat barren area, then rolled slowly down the hill to the dell at the bottom. It was here the barn sat nestled against a backdrop of trees. As the pickup truck drew closer to the barn, Niall said, ‘Denise and Carly must still be here, Katie. The lights are on.’ Katie was not surprised, and she explained, ‘They often stay here long after I’m gone. They like to rehearse, work together, and sometimes they do their homework, Niall. There’s nothing much for them at home, with everyone working.’ ‘Yeah, I know.’ Niall brought the pickup truck to a stop in front of the barn, and braked. Katie opened the door and jumped down to the ground. It was cold and she shivered, huddled into her jacket as she ran forward. When she reached the barn door she was surprised to see it stood open. Pulling it back, she went in, smiling and exclaiming, ‘Carly! Denise! What’s going on? Why’s the door open on a cold night like this?’ No one answered. The barn was empty. Taken aback, Katie stood for a moment frozen to the spot. Her eyes scanned the room swiftly, and straight away she noticed the disarray. Two straight-backed chairs had been turned over, lay on their sides. The shade on the old pottery lamp was lopsided, looked as if it had been hit with force, and the blue cloth on the table where they drank their Cokes had been pulled to one side, so that it hung off the edge of the table. As her eyes continued to scan the barn she saw their coats hanging on the wall pegs, and on the floor, nearby, were their school bags. And hers as well, although she didn’t remember putting it there. She was sure she had thrown it in a corner, haphazardly. All three were neatly lined up, side by side. How odd. Sudden fear clutched at Katie. She swung her head as Niall came inside. ‘Where’s Denise? Carly?’ he asked, and automatically took hold of her arm, immediately noticing the overturned chairs, and other signs of disruption. Katie swung to face him. ‘I don’t know.’ She bit her lip. ‘They must be somewhere…outside…’ ‘Without their coats?’ he frowned, staring hard at her. For a moment Katie could not speak. The fear inside her seemed to intensify and her legs suddenly felt weak, as if they would give way beneath her. All of her instincts were alerted to trouble, and in a shaking voice she said slowly, ‘There’s something wrong, Niall.’ ‘Yep, there is.’ Her brother took a deep breath, went on: ‘We’d better go outside and look for them. They must be around here somewhere. It’s very dark, but I’ve got a flashlight in the truck.’ ‘And there’s one in the drawer of the table. I kept it for emergencies,’ she explained. ‘Then get it, Katie, and let’s go.’ Chapter Five (#) It was chilly and damp outside and darker than ever. Heavy clouds obscured the opaque moon, and an ominous feeling floated in the air. It was palpable, something Katie felt she could reach out and touch. She was taut and fearful. Her mind raced; dire thoughts rushed unchecked through her head. Nothing was normal any more, and her instincts told her something bad had happened here. Something evil. A strange sense of doom, a foreboding, persisted even though she tried to push it away. The dampness seeped through her jacket into her bones, and she shivered as she stood waiting for her brother. Niall had gone to get the flashlight from his pickup, and she was clutching the one she had taken from the barn. Her mother had given it to her a long time ago, and Katie was glad she had thought to replace the batteries recently. Unexpectedly, Niall’s headlights flashed on and she started in surprise. The area in front of the barn where she was standing was suddenly illuminated, and at least she could see better. Niall ran towards her, waving his flashlight, and when he was by her side he took hold of her arm protectively. In a rush of words he said, ‘Listen to me, Katie. We’re going to stick close together. Real close. I don’t want you wandering around here on your own. Okay?’ ‘Yes. And anyway that’s the last thing I’d do,’ she answered, her voice low, and she edged closer to her brother. There was a hesitation on her part, then she ventured, ‘There are only two possibilities, Niall. They either left in a great hurry or they were taken.’ ‘Taken,’ he repeated, and frowned, his slate-green eyes suddenly troubled. ‘Who’d take them? And where?’ ‘I don’t know. But what we do know is that there was an intruder, or intruders, because things have been moved around, disrupted in there.’ She half turned, nodded her head at the barn. ‘Carly and Denise might not be here at all, you know. They could be far away by now. If they’ve been…taken. Kidnapped.’ ‘Jaysus, what’re you saying, Katie?’ Niall muttered, sounding exactly like Grandfather Sean, whom he loved and emulated. ‘Why would anyone take Denise and Carly? What are you getting at?’ ‘There’re a lot of weirdos around, you know that as well as I do. Crazed druggies. Sex fiends. Whackos. Serial killers.’ Niall gaped at her, obviously startled by her words; a mixture of concern and fear washed across his face. ‘Let’s not waste any more time. We’ll look at the back of the barn first.’ As he spoke he hurried her towards the stands of trees that shaded the ramshackle building on its north side. Katie said, ‘They might have made for Ted Matthews’s house, Niall.’ ‘Yeah, that’s a possibility.’ Together they walked around the back of the barn, waving their flashlights from side to side, directing the beams of light at the trees and bushes, calling, ‘Carly! Denise!’ No one answered and there was nothing untoward to be seen. No sign of trampled grass, broken twigs, smashed bushes or footprints in the earth. And certainly there was no sign of the girls. At one moment, Niall paused, swung Katie to face him. He stared at her. ‘We both believe somebody entered the barn. Unexpectedly. Uninvited. Whoever it was either took the girls by force, or frightened them so badly they fled. Correct?’ Katie nodded. ‘And if they ran out, were really scared, they’d probably go to Ted’s farm. It’s not that close, but it is nearer than our house or their own homes.’ Niall was puzzled. ‘Why wouldn’t they run up the hill to the highway?’ ‘No, no, they’d never do that,’ Katie responded quickly, shaking her head. ‘It’s tough running uphill. They probably rushed outside and just ran straight ahead, right into the wood facing the barn door. Once they were through the wood they’d be on flat ground all the way to Ted’s farm. It’s easy to run across fields quickly, they’d be there in no time.’ ‘You’re right about that, so we’ll search the wood next. It could be that Denise and Carly are hiding in there, afraid to come out. If we don’t find them, we can call Ted from the pay phone on the highway.’ Katie took hold of her brother’s hand. She was nervous, agitated inside. All of a sudden, a surge of apprehension flooded her and she felt slightly sick. She was certain something had gone wrong after she had left, and she prayed that Carly and Denise were all right, that they were safe. Niall gripped her hand firmly as they made their way to the front of the building, where his pickup was parked, and went into the wood opposite. It was not large, but it was densely packed with trees, and very dark. The path through the trees was cut so narrowly it was necessary to walk single file; Niall insisted Katie went ahead of him so that his eyes were on her at all times. He wasn’t prepared to take any chances. Once they were moving along the path at a steady pace, Katie called out, ‘Carly! Denise? It’s me, Katie! Are you in here?’ Niall pitched his voice even louder. ‘Denise? Carly? Where are you?’ There was no response. The two of them kept to the path, waving their flashlights from side to side, peering about in the dim light. Suddenly, Katie stopped and held up her hand. She said quietly, over her shoulder, ‘Did you hear that, Niall?’ ‘What?’ ‘A rustling sound just ahead of us.’ ‘No, I didn’t. It was probably an animal. A deer.’ Katie’s breath caught in her throat, and she held herself absolutely still as she remembered the dark flash caught on the periphery of her vision earlier that day. Near the rhododendron bushes on the hillside when she was going home. I shouldn’t have left them alone in the barn, I should have made them leave with me. But they often stay late, that’s nothing new. As long as they were at the barn they had each other for company, instead of being at home alone. Had there been someone lurking near the rhododendron bushes? She swallowed hard. Her mouth went dry and she wondered if the intruder had been there on the hill this afternoon. If that was so, she had passed very close to him. Or them. She shivered. ‘I can hear something now,’ Niall muttered, leaning closer, putting his hand on her shoulder. To Katie, the disturbance, whatever it was, seemed much louder, clearer, and it sounded as though somebody was plunging through the undergrowth, charging forward, and in the process rustling leaves and breaking branches. If it was an animal it was a large one. ‘Who’s there?’ Niall shouted. ‘Carly, Denise, it’s me! And Niall,’ Katie yelled through hands cupped around her mouth. No one responded but the noise instantly stopped. There were no sounds at all, only silence. The two of them did not move for a moment or two. They stood waiting, listening, straining their ears. Nothing moved, not a leaf stirred. The wood was wrapped in total stillness. Katie took a deep breath – and a step forward. Niall followed her, even more disturbed. But not wishing to alarm Katie further, he murmured reassuringly, ‘It was a deer, honey. Or a stag. Yes, a stag, that’s more like it, and that’s all it was, Katie. An animal.’ Though he spoke confidently, he wasn’t sure he believed his own words. Katie certainly didn’t; she had other ideas altogether. Taking several more deep breaths, steadying herself, she stepped out purposefully. Katie saw Carly first. She was waving her flashlight from side to side when the cold, white beam of light fell across Carly’s body. Her friend was in a small clearing to one side of the path, near a clump of bushes. She was stretched out on her back and lay very still. ‘It’s Carly,’ Katie called and ran forward, driven by anxiety, shining the light on her friend’s face. Instantly she recoiled in horror. Carly’s face was covered in so much blood her features were barely visible. Katie screamed, called Niall’s name, and remained rooted to the spot, unable to move. When Niall reached her she grabbed hold of him and shouted in a very loud, unnatural voice, ‘Carly’s covered in blood. Oh, God! Oh, God! She can’t be dead! Can she? Who’s done this terrible thing to her?’ Katie leaned against her brother and the uncontrollable shaking began. She could barely stand up, thought her legs would buckle, and she pushed her face against his shoulder, wanting to block out Carly’s bloody face. Niall levelled his own flashlight on Carly, and he instantly looked away, as sickened and horrified as Katie. After a moment, he said quietly, ‘I want to look at Carly more closely. Can you stand on your own, Katie? Let me take you over there, you can rest against the tree. Okay?’ ‘Okay,’ Katie answered through her sobbing. Niall had to move his sister almost bodily, but once he had her leaning against a tree he hurried across the clearing to Carly. The stench of blood assailed him, and he averted his face, gulped air, and somehow managed to hold onto his composure. At last he bent over her, and realized that the blood was coming from her head, oozing out from her hairline, running down over her forehead and cheeks. It suddenly occurred to him there was very little damage, if any, to her face. She had obviously been hit on the head a number of times. Her eyes were closed, but now he noticed a faint pulse in her neck, and she was breathing, if only shallowly. She was alive, he was almost positive of that. Niall fumbled for her wrist. A faint pulse confirmed that she wasn’t dead. Straightening, Niall stepped back onto the path. Looking across at Katie, who was still clinging to the tree, he said, ‘Carly’s alive. I’m going to see if Denise is anywhere nearby.’ ‘Thank God.’ Katie began to sob again, but this time it was with relief. Within the space of several seconds Niall found Denise. She was about fifty feet away, and she too lay on her back on a patch of dry grass, off to one side of the path. ‘Denise,’ he murmured, kneeling down next to her, shining his flashlight on her face. He drew back at once, and his throat constricted, tears leaping into his eyes. A trembling took hold of him, and he knew even without taking her pulse that she was no longer alive. Those soft velvet brown eyes which he knew so well were wide and staring, and empty of life. Death was on her. An involuntary sob bubbled in his throat, and he stood up swiftly, filled with sudden overwhelming grief. The tears ran down his cheeks unchecked and he wiped them away roughly with the back of his hand. When he looked at Denise again he saw for the first time that her skirt was pulled up to her waist and her tights were ripped. Niall snapped his eyes shut and pressed his hand to his mouth, filled with fury. Denise had been raped. Bastard. Son of a bitch, he muttered under his breath and he began to sob. Who had done this vile, unspeakable thing to her? Who had raped and killed her? Lovely, innocent Denise. Only seventeen. A whole life to live snuffed out. Just like that. Bastard. Niall wanted to pull her skirt down, cover her with his jacket, give her a little respect and dignity in death. But he knew better than to do that. Trying to take control of his swimming senses, Niall walked back down the path on trembling legs, wondering how to break the news to Katie. Quietly, holding his emotions in check, Niall said, ‘Denise…she’s gone, Katie, she’s been…killed.’ His face was contorted by pain and a terrible anger filled his voice. A wracking sob broke free from Katie and she clutched at him. ‘No, Niall! No! It can’t be. Oh God, no.’ He wrapped his arms around her and held her close. After a moment, Katie whispered, ‘I want to see her.’ ‘No, you don’t.’ ‘I do. I must.’ She broke free of his embrace and ran down the path, the spot of light from the flashlight bobbing around in the dark as she ran. She did not stop until she reached Denise’s body. Her eyes widened, clouded with grief. She gazed down at her friend, and then she turned away, bending double, wrapping her arms around herself, consumed by a searing pain. Tears coursed down her cheeks and she cried out, ‘Not Denise, oh God, not Denise! It’s not fair! It’s just not fair.’ Chapter Six (#) Katie screeched to a standstill, pulled on the brake and jumped out of the pickup truck. Sprinting to the pay phone in the rest area, she grabbed the receiver off the hook and dialled 911. Immediately, the emergency operator came onto the line and Katie asked for the ambulance service. Before she could even blink she was talking to the Litchfield County Dispatcher for Fire and Ambulance in the Litchfield area. ‘I need an ambulance! My friend’s injured! It’s a matter of life and death!’ Katie exclaimed, her voice echoing with urgency and anxiety. ‘She’s been beaten over the head. She’s bleeding. But she’s still alive. Just. Please send an ambulance. As quickly as possible.’ ‘Where are you calling from?’ ‘I’m at a pay phone on Route 7. Up above Malvern, between New Milford and South Kent,’ she swiftly answered, and then gave her the exact details of where she was. ‘What’s your name?’ the female dispatcher asked. ‘Katie Byrne. From Malvern.’ The dispatcher asked a few more questions, which Katie answered as precisely as she could, and then, voice trembling, she told the dispatcher, ‘My other friend, Denise…well, she’s dead.’ Her sentence finished in sobs. ‘Hang in there, Katie,’ the dispatcher said in a kindly tone. ‘And hold on. I’m putting you through to the state police. Give them all the details, tell them everything you know. The ambulance is being dispatched now.’ Katie stood clutching the phone, and a minute later a man’s voice announced, ‘State Police Dispatcher, Troop L, Litchfield. Tell me exactly what happened, Katie.’ ‘One of my friends has been badly injured. The other one is…dead,’ she responded quietly, trying to be as calm and concise as possible. ‘My brother and I found them a while ago. About fifteen minutes ago. But we don’t know what happened. Or how it happened. We need an ambulance for Carly.’ ‘It’s already on its way. Give me your exact location, Katie.’ Katie did so, shivering in the cold wind, thinking that she was living a nightmare. She couldn’t believe she was on this phone talking to the Connecticut State Police about Carly and Denise. Only a few hours ago, at four o’clock, the three of them had been laughing together in the barn, and planning their future in New York. The state police dispatcher said, ‘Please wait there, Katie. Stay where you are. Don’t leave. Responding state troopers will arrive as soon as they can. There are several patrolling in the area. It won’t be long before one of them gets to you.’ ‘I’ll wait on the highway. At the entrance to the road leading down to the barn,’ Katie told him, and replaced the receiver. She leaned forward, rested her forehead against the phone, and closed her eyes for a moment, willing herself to be strong. And willing Carly to live. Please God, don’t let her die, she whispered silently. Let her live. Fight, Carly, fight. Still shivering and turning up the collar of her jacket, she ran over to the truck and climbed in. Instantly, she jumped out and raced back to the pay phone, remembering that Niall had told her to call their mother. Dropping the quarter in, she dialled her home. ‘It’s me, Mom,’ Katie said when Maureen answered. ‘Where are you both?’ Maureen asked, sounding put out, even cross. ‘Your father’ll be home any minute now, and I’ll be wanting to serve supper. Finian’s starving.’ ‘Mom, something’s happened,’ Katie began, and her voice faltered. She was unable to go on. ‘What is it, Katie? What’s wrong?’ Maureen demanded, at once alerted to a serious problem, since Katie wasn’t one to exaggerate. ‘It’s something…terrible, Momma. Carly’s been badly injured, and Denise…’ Katie stopped. She swallowed hard, but her voice choked up as she whispered, ‘Mom, Denise is dead. Somebody raped her, and they killed her…and he really hurt Carly. It was after I left the barn this afternoon.’ ‘Oh my God! Oh my God! No, Katie! Those poor girls. Oh Lord, where are you? Are you all right? Where’s Niall? Let me speak to him!’ Maureen cried, her voice rising shrilly, sudden panic and shock now getting the better of her. ‘He’s not here, Mom. He stayed with Carly in the wood. That’s where it happened…the attacks on…the girls.’ Katie put a hand over her mouth to stifle her sobs, but she didn’t succeed very well. ‘Listen to me, Katie,’ Maureen whispered, but it was a harsh whisper. ‘Get Niall on the phone.’ ‘I can’t, Mom! He’s looking after Carly. He stayed with her just in case the attacker came back. He sent me to the pay phone on the highway to call for an ambulance. They put me through to the police and now they’re all coming, bringing help.’ ‘Katie, Katie, listen to me. I want you to come home. And immediately. I don’t want you there. Maybe it’s not safe. We don’t know who did this…the person could still be around, couldn’t he? Maybe even looking for you. It was always the three of you, everyone knows that. And perhaps he does. Come home at once. Your father will be here in a moment or so, and he’ll drive down and pick Niall up. Go and get into the pickup, and get yourself home at once. Do you hear me, Katie Byrne?’ ‘Yes, Mom, I do. But I can’t. I’d like to, but I have to stay here. The barn can’t be seen from the road, you know that, and so I have to wait for the ambulance and the police. I’ll come home once Carly is in the ambulance and going to the hospital.’ ‘Please come home,’ Maureen begged. ‘I’m okay, Mom. Honest. I’ll be home soon,’ she promised and hung up. Katie drove down the hill, parked in front of the barn and hurried towards the wood, clutching her flashlight. She walked a few feet down the narrow path and took a deep breath. ‘Niall! Niall! I’m back!’ she shouted at the top of her lungs, pitching her voice as far as she could, as she had trained herself to do for the stage. In the distance, faintly, she heard his response. ‘Okay, Katie. It’s okay, I hear you.’ Swinging around, she returned to the truck and once again drove up the hill to wait for the ambulance and the police. Her head had begun to pound, and she felt sick again, as though she were going to throw up. She took a number of deep breaths, as she so often did when she stood in the wings, willing her stage fright to go away. This nauseous feeling wasn’t caused by stage fright, though, but by genuine fear. What if the killer was looking for her, as her mother had suggested he could be? She sat waiting on the highway, but she didn’t have long to wait. Within the space of five minutes she heard a siren, and a moment later a state trooper’s car came into view. It raced along the highway at breakneck speed. Since the state trooper was coming up Route 7, from the direction of Gaylordsville, he had to park on the opposite side of the road; he got out and hurried over to the pickup truck. Katie rolled down her window and peered out at him, her face strained, her eyes bleak with pain. ‘Are you Katie Byrne?’ he asked. ‘Yes, I am. Is the ambulance coming?’ ‘It should be here real fast. I was in the immediate vicinity, and answered the radio call at once. Where’s the crime scene located exactly?’ ‘I’ll show you.’ Katie opened the door, jumped down and led the trooper across the short stretch of barren land. Pointing down the hill, she said, ‘It’s in the wood immediately opposite that old barn down there. My brother Niall’s waiting in the wood. He thought he’d better stay with Carly, to protect her. Just in case the attacker was still around here –’ Katie stopped. Her voice was wobbling and tears had welled in her eyes. ‘Take it easy, Katie,’ the trooper said. Gulping, she nodded, and endeavoured to get control of herself. ‘Shall I wait for the ambulance while you go down the hill? To show them the way?’ ‘You won’t have to do that. It’s about to arrive,’ the state trooper answered, cocking his head at the sound of screaming sirens. The highway was filled with whirling red lights as the ambulance shot along the road, coming to a halt behind the state trooper’s car. Katie made for Niall’s truck and got inside. She was chilled to the bone and unexpectedly exhausted. She watched as the trooper sprinted over to the ambulance and spoke to the driver, pointed down the hill and then went and got into his own car. The ambulance began to move. Katie followed the ambulance. The state trooper was immediately behind her in his police car, his red light turned on, his siren shrilling loud and clear. After pointing the way through the wood, Katie stood to one side and watched as the medics raced down the narrow path, carrying a stretcher. Within minutes they were returning with Carly, and she was still alive. It’s a miracle, Katie thought. She had been teetering on the edge of despair, certain her friend could not last. But Carly had hung in there. She made it. Oh God, thank you, thank you. The medics were huddled around Carly, checking her vital signs before putting her in the ambulance. Katie clung to Niall; the two of them were standing together near the barn, just a few feet away from Carly. How pale she was, Katie thought. White as bleached bone, and so still. Still as death. But the medics had given the thumbs up sign a moment ago, and one of them had said, ‘She’s breathing.’ ‘She is going to live, isn’t she?’ Katie asked the medic who had just helped to lift the stretcher into the ambulance. He glanced over his shoulder at Katie and nodded. ‘I think so. I hope so.’ The ambulance left with Carly, and Katie took hold of Niall’s hand, held it tightly in hers. He looked at her quickly, and asked, ‘Did you call Mom?’ ‘Yes. I told her what’s happened. She was distraught. I think I’d better go home now, Niall. I told her I would, once Carly was on the way to the hospital.’ ‘You’ll have to stay here with me, Katie. The state trooper needs to talk to us when he gets back from looking at Denise’s body –’ Niall paused, listened. ‘Sounds like sirens again. More state troopers arriving, I guess.’ Katie seemed uncomprehending for a moment. Niall stared back at her, his eyes narrowing. ‘Denise has been murdered,’ he said, sorrow echoing in his voice. ‘This place is going to be teeming with police in the next half hour.’ Chapter Seven (#) This was the type of crime he detested. Defenceless young girls mercilessly beaten and murdered. Easy prey, innocent prey, Mac MacDonald thought bleakly as he sidestepped the yellow police tape two state troopers were placing around the wood, to cordon off the crime scene and safeguard it. John ‘Mac’ MacDonald, commander of the Major Crime Squad of the Connecticut State Police out of Litchfield, had long ago discovered that crimes of this nature inevitably turned him into a raging bull inside. But he knew better than to unleash his fury. He had schooled himself for years to exercise total self-control and discipline. But that didn’t mean he held the rage in check all the time. Most weekends found him hitting a punching bag in his basement exercise room, imagining who the recipients of his intense pummelling might possibly be. It was a release of a kind for him, yet he was aware it did nothing to stop the senseless murder and rape of young women. He had two teenage daughters himself, and he worried about them constantly, drilled them relentlessly about being street-smart and careful. Images of their lovely young faces leapt into his head, but he pushed them away. He could not afford to be distracted. He needed total concentration. He must think about one thing only: solving this case quickly. Mac paused to speak to one of the state troopers handling the yellow tape. ‘You were the first here, weren’t you,’ he stated, his manner chatty, friendly. The state trooper nodded. ‘Yeah, I was, Lieutenant. I made certain the crime scene wasn’t contaminated in any way, and the medics were careful, they didn’t destroy its integrity either. They went straight in, got the injured girl and came straight out. One, two, three, just like that.’ ‘And the other girl was dead when you arrived.’ This was again a statement, not a question. ‘Yeah. Poor kid.’ The trooper shook his head and his eyes were suddenly sad. ‘What a lousy thing!’ he muttered and half grimaced, turned away. Mac sighed under his breath as he moved on towards the wood. He knew how the trooper felt. He also knew that as long as he lived he would always react strongly to violence against women. It made him want to teach the cowards who perpetrated these outrages a lesson they would never forget. Some son of a bitch had done a really foul job on two young women earlier, and the fury Mac felt brought a hard glint to his grey eyes, and his expression was grim and as cold as steel. He never let any other emotion show on his narrow, craggy face; that’s why they called him Mac the Knife behind his back. Adopting a brisker pace, Mac walked down the narrow path that led to the middle of the wood where he knew a seventeen-year-old girl lay dead. He was also well aware that Doctor Allegra Marsh, the Medical Examiner, was already on the scene. She had arrived a short while before he had, according to two of his detectives who were in the barn. Also, her dark-green Cherokee jeep was parked next to the black van he knew came from her office. Mac liked Allegra Marsh, admired her. For one thing, there was no bullshit about her. She always called it the way she saw it at a crime scene, and she was very forthright in every other way. They had worked on countless cases together, and she had gone the distance for him, gone beyond the call of duty, in a sense. All of this aside, she was the most brilliant forensic scientist and pathologist he had ever known and worked with. In her own way, she was also a detective, just as he was; they simply used different methods. They were good friends, but it stopped there, even though he was long widowed and she was single. With Allegra there were certain boundaries, ones which he knew not to cross, although sometimes…Well, that was another story. Even if he hadn’t been told she was here, the intense beams of light from her battery-operated spotlights announced her formidable presence in the wood. When he was about five feet away, Mac came to a standstill, and said, ‘Not a happy night, Allegra.’ The Medical Examiner was kneeling on the ground with one of the forensic team, and she glanced up at him and shook her blonde head. ‘Hi, Mac. And you’re right, not happy at all.’ She sighed and added, ‘It was some angry man who paid a visit here earlier tonight, no doubt about that.’ ‘What’ve you found?’ ‘Death by strangulation. Manual strangulation. Her larynx is crushed. Very intense bruising around the neck area. A violent attack. And she was raped, but you most likely know that from your team.’ ‘Yeah, I do.’ He was staring down at the body, and he muttered, ‘Oh God, she was so young…’ ‘And a virgin,’ Allegra said. ‘She was?’ ‘Yes, I believe so. Obviously, I’ll know for certain once I do the autopsy. But there was blood mixed in with the seminal fluid. I have a number of DNA samples from her body. Semen, blood, which I believe to be hers, hair follicles. Skin and flesh from underneath her fingernails. More hair. Different hair. And this.’ Allegra showed him the large tweezers in her right hand, which she generally used to lift off DNA samples from a body. They now held a cigarette stub. ‘We just found this beauty partially hidden under her body.’ She placed it carefully in the glassine envelope her assistant was now holding, and went on, ‘I’m certain the girl was not sitting around here smoking, Mac. She was running for her life. This was an oversight on the assailant’s part. He tossed it away and forgot it.’ She sat back on her heels. ‘Saliva, Mac, the perp’s saliva. I hope.’ Her dark eyes sparkled at this thought. He nodded. ‘Any idea yet of what time she died?’ ‘In the vicinity of six, six-fifteen. I’ll be able to place the time more accurately, pinpoint it, after the post-mortem. But it wasn’t much later than six-twenty, I’m fairly sure.’ As she was speaking, Allegra was putting items away in one of the two metal medical cases she favoured. Then turning to her assistant, she said, ‘Let’s get her into the body bag, Ken.’ ‘Right away,’ he responded and reached for the bag nearby. He knelt closer to Allegra and they lifted and manipulated the body until it was inside the bag, and then Ken zipped it. They both rose at the same time; together they picked up the bag and put it on the stretcher. Allegra said, ‘Thanks, Ken, I’ll send Cody to help you bring the body out. Afterwards you can dismantle the lights.’ ‘I will,’ he said, and began to pack his own medical bag. Allegra rolled off her latex gloves, balled them and put them in one of her metal cases, which she then picked up. Mac grabbed the other one, and the two of them walked away from the crime scene, hurrying down the path in single file. Mac said, ‘Not a very good crime scene for us…’ ‘I’ve seen better, Mac, but it’s not that bad. The medics didn’t disturb anything, and we’ve been scrupulous.’ ‘I know you have. Let’s face it, though, a wood is not the easiest place to find clues to a brutal murder.’ ‘True. And the ground is very hard at the moment. There’ll be no footprints. Have you spoken to the brother and sister in the barn?’ ‘Yeah, I did, but only briefly. I got here after you did, Allegra. The girl is shell-shocked, yet despite that she’s very precise, clear about things. There’s not much she or her brother can tell us about the attack, since they arrived here after it happened.’ They did not speak for a few seconds, just ploughed on through the wood until they came to the area in front of the barn. It was crowded with cars and police, and they dodged around them, walked over to Allegra’s jeep at a brisk pace. Mac suddenly said, ‘Katie told me that she caught a flash of something dark when she was leaving this afternoon. It was about ten to five and already dusk. She was going up that hill over there, thought she saw something and stopped, looked over at the clump of rhododendron bushes. She says she wondered what she had almost seen. Then she decided it had to be an animal, a deer most likely, and she didn’t bother to investigate further. But I’ve got one of my men and a state trooper up there now, looking around.’ Allegra stopped, turned to Mac, and frowned as she exclaimed, ‘It’s just as well she didn’t go over to the bushes, because it could have been the perp loitering. And he might well have beaten her up also.’ ‘Yes, you’re right about that. I’m hoping that when Carly Smith recovers consciousness she’ll be able to tell us what happened here today, and who it was. She’s an eye witness, our only eye witness, and we’re obviously banking on her.’ Allegra stared at him. Noticing at once the concern spreading across her face, he asked quickly, ‘What’s wrong?’ The Medical Examiner was silent, then finally she said in a low voice, ‘From what I understand, that poor girl took some terrible blows to the head. I’m praying for her recovery, but those head injuries could prove to be extremely serious.’ ‘What are you getting at, Allegra? Are you saying she might die?’ Mac asked, his voice rising. Allegra hesitated fractionally, then said, ‘No, not that necessarily. But she could be left in a coma.’ ‘Oh shit!’ ‘Let’s hope for the best, especially for the girl’s sake,’ Allegra murmured, and put her metal case in the back of the jeep. Chapter Eight (#) Michael Byrne drove at breakneck speed up Route 7, his foot pressed hard on the accelerator. He was filled with tension and anxiety, and these feelings showed in his taut face and worried eyes, which were intent on the road ahead. How he regretted now that he had been caught up with a client, going over extensive plans for a house he was currently remodelling. His appointment with Bill Turnbull had become not only involved but interminable. It had dragged on and on, had made him arrive home much later than usual, to be greeted on the back doorstep by Maureen, who had obviously been waiting anxiously for him. He had known at once that she was distraught, and as she blurted out the story through her tears he had turned ice-cold inside. He could not stand the thought that his daughter might have been at risk, in harm’s way. The moment Maureen had finished speaking, he had told her to go inside and lock the door. And then he had rushed over to his jeep, shouting over his shoulder that he was going to the barn to get Katie and Niall. The only thing he could think of, as he had pulled out, was that Katie was safe. Not injured. Not dead. But safe. It was a miracle of sorts. She was always at the barn rehearsing and if she hadn’t left early today, to go home to help her mother, she would more than likely have been a victim too. That did not bear thinking about. An involuntary shudder ran through him. Now all he wanted was to get to his daughter, to satisfy himself that she was really all right, and to bring her home with him. His Katie. He loved his sons Niall and Finian very much, but Katie was extra special to him, the light of his life, and had been since the day she was born. In all truth, she reminded him of his sister Cecily who had died of meningitis when he was fifteen and she was only twelve; his young heart had broken with her dying. He had loved and protected that child all through her sweet short life; after her death it would often strike him that perhaps unconsciously he had somehow known she was not long for this world. Cecily had been a redheaded leggy colt, just as Katie was, although there the physical resemblance between them stopped, since Katie was the spitting image of her mother. But in other ways he saw Cecily in his daughter…the feyness, the gaiety, the openness, and the warm personality. There was very little, if any, guile in Katie, and she had a pureness, an innocence that he had only ever seen in Cecily. And like her long-dead aunt, whom she had never known, Katie truly was a free spirit. He was thankful Niall was with Katie at the barn; that was a most comforting thought to him. His mind instantly veered to Denise’s family. There would certainly be no comfort for Peter and Lois Matthews, and none for Ted either, who was a widower and childless and adoring of his only niece. Michael shuddered again at the thought of Denise’s awful fate. He had known her since she was a child, and Carly, too, for that matter, but Carly was alive, thank God. He hoped her injuries were not too severe. Suddenly, thoughts of her mother, Janet, intruded. As a widow all alone she had striven hard to do her very best for Carly, after her husband had died. Barry Smith had been a good friend of his for a number of years, and like everyone he and Maureen had been shocked when Barry had died of lymphatic cancer. He had been far too young for the grave. After his tragic death it had been a struggle, an uphill battle for Janet, and she had been faced with so many difficulties. Maureen had often wondered aloud to him how she managed. Bad days ahead for those two families, he thought, his mouth grimly set, but he and Maureen would do the best they could to help them through this painful and shocking ordeal. He sighed and his hands gripped the steering wheel that much tighter…burying a child was something he could not imagine, or contemplate. A murdered child, at that… Michael slowed when he came to the entrance to the dirt road which rolled down the hill to the barn. He eased the car in gently and found his way instantly blocked by a state trooper’s patrol car. As he opened his window another state trooper suddenly appeared as if from nowhere, and was already peering in at him. ‘Can I help you, sir?’ ‘I have to pass through here, trooper.’ ‘Sorry, sir, but you cannot. Not tonight.’ ‘But I must. My two kids are down there at the barn. They were the ones who discovered the bodies of their friends, Denise Matthews and Carly Smith.’ ‘What’s your name, sir?’ ‘Michael Byrne. I live in Malvern.’ Michael pulled out his driver’s licence and showed it to him. Once the state trooper had scanned it and was seemingly satisfied, he nodded. ‘It’s okay, you can go on down to the barn. Ask for the detective in charge, Lieutenant MacDonald.’ ‘As in Mac the Knife?’ Michael asked, a dark brow lifting. The state trooper grinned at him. ‘So you know the lieutenant, do you?’ ‘I sure do. I went to school with him.’ As he drove slowly down the hill, Michael immediately became aware of the activity below him in front of the barn. There were five patrol cars, along with several unmarked vans, and a number of men both in and out of uniform. He recognized at once that this was a major crime scene, and he felt cold chills running down his back because his children were involved, however inadvertently. But naturally it was a big deal if Mac MacDonald was here. His old pal was in charge of the Connecticut State Police Major Crime Unit in the Litchfield area, and known to be one hell of a tough cop. They hadn’t seen each other lately, not for several years in fact, but he had read about Mac in the local newspapers, and noted his climb to success and fame in law enforcement. Michael was relieved to know that Mac was in charge, because the investigation would be handled with great skill and professionalism. After he parked, Michael got out of the jeep and slammed the door. He could see Mac a few yards away, talking to a good-looking blonde who was leaning against a Cherokee. When Mac happened to glance across and spotted him, Michael raised a hand in greeting, then walked around the front of his jeep. A moment later the two of them were shaking hands and slapping each other on the back. Once they had pulled away from each other Michael said, ‘My kids are here, Mac. I’ve come to get them.’ ‘They’re fine, Mike, and they’re ready to leave. They’ve been giving their statements in the barn.’ ‘What’s taken so long?’ Mike asked, frowning, staring into Mac’s cool silver eyes, lots of questions reflected in his own. ‘My fault, Mike, I got here late. My guys wanted me to have a couple of words with them.’ Mac turned quickly as Allegra Marsh approached them. ‘Sorry to interrupt, Mac, but I have to be going. I just wanted to say goodnight.’ ‘Allegra, this is Mike Byrne, my old buddy from school. Katie and Niall are his kids. Mike, meet Allegra Marsh. The Medical Examiner.’ Stretching out her hand, Allegra shook Michael’s and said hello. Michael nodded, cleared his throat and muttered, ‘I can’t believe something like this happened here. It’s always been a sleepy sort of place. Never any problems, at least not this kind, anyway.’ Allegra gave him a long look through compassionate brown eyes. ‘I know what you mean. Tragedies such as this are always a dreadful shock, and heartbreaking.’ She sounded sorrowful and concerned, and Michael looked at her closely, saw a sympathetic woman in her forties who happened to be beautiful in a cool, restrained way. Mac interjected, ‘This is the worst kind of crime, Mike. Such a lousy thing to deal with. Allegra’s right, it’s heartbreaking, they were only young girls…’ He cut himself off, remembering what a narrow and lucky escape Katie had probably had. As if he was reading his thoughts, Michael remarked, ‘My Katie left early today, and I can only say thank God she did.’ He first eyed Allegra, and then Mac. ‘Any idea who could have done it?’ ‘No,’ Mac said laconically and took hold of his arm. ‘Let’s go and get your kids, so that you can take them home. It’s been a rotten few hours for them, all considered. But they’ve held up well, Mike. Very well indeed.’ Allegra murmured, ‘Goodnight,’ and stepped away from the two men. Then she suddenly spun around, and added, ‘I’ll call you first thing in the morning, Mac, and just let’s hope these golden hours really do turn out to be golden.’ ‘I’m praying they are,’ Mac answered. ‘Praying damned hard, I might add.’ ‘What does she mean by golden hours?’ Michael asked as he and Mac walked over to the barn. ‘We call the first seventy-two hours the golden hours, because that’s when we really can determine if the crime is going to be solved quickly. If a crime is not solved within those two and a half days…well…’ Mac shrugged. Michael caught hold of his sleeve. ‘Are you saying that if you don’t solve this crime by Monday it won’t get solved at all?’ ‘Yes, that’s what I’m saying,’ Mac answered. His face was bleak. Stunned, Michael stared at him speechlessly. Recovering, he exclaimed, ‘Seventy-two hours and then you give up?’ ‘No, we never give up,’ Mac assured him. ‘But if we haven’t solved it in that time, we know we’ve got a bad crime scene. That means no evidence, no real clues, no leads…a hard job ahead of us. But, let me repeat it again, Mike, we never give up.’ Chapter Nine (#) The only thing Michael Byrne saw when he went into the barn was Katie’s face. Everything else was a blur. His daughter looked pale and drawn, and her eyes held a haunted look. Her appearance made him draw in his breath, and as he stepped forward he noticed how taut she was in the chair, her tenseness and anxiety obvious. He hurried to her, concerned. When Katie saw her father with Mac MacDonald her face changed and her blue eyes lit up. Instantly she leapt to her feet and ran across to him. Michael held her close, his arms wound tightly around her, as if never to let her go. How could he let her go? How could he let her out of his sight ever again? The world out there was full of maniacs and criminals, and she was a sweet, innocent girl who was unprotected and defenceless when she was alone. He looked at Niall, who was walking towards him. Michael’s relief that he had both of his children in his sight was reflected in his green eyes, so like Niall’s. Draping an arm around Niall, Michael pulled his son closer, drew him into the circle of his embrace with Katie, and the three of them clung together without saying a word. Finally they broke away from each other and stood huddled together, looking at the detectives in the barn. Mac spoke first: ‘Thanks, Katie, and thanks to you too, Niall. You’ve both been very helpful.’ ‘What happens next?’ Niall asked, his eyes on the commander. ‘We keep going with the investigation, with the gathering of evidence. We’ve got police everywhere, scouring the area, looking for anyone who might be behaving in a suspicious way. We’ve even put up some roadblocks for the same reason,’ Mac explained. ‘And early tomorrow morning we’ll be back here checking every inch of the terrain again. After you leave, we’ll be blocking off this whole area and posting guards to protect the crime scene.’ ‘Denise was strangled, wasn’t she?’ Katie spoke softly and her shaking voice betrayed her raw emotions. Mac nodded, his eyes softening briefly as he looked at the girl. ‘We’ll know more about her death tomorrow, once I’ve spoken to Doctor Marsh, the Medical Examiner. And I’ll also have the reports from the forensics techs who were here. Every bit of evidence, however small, will help us to solve this crime, and find Denise’s killer, Katie.’ Katie nodded and exhaled. A deep sigh of sorrow and anguish rippled through her, and although she tried hard to be totally controlled, her eyes filled with tears as she thought of Denise and Carly. She leaned against her father, striving to get a hold of herself, wanting to be strong and brave. Niall said to Mac, ‘Can we take Katie’s school bag with us when we leave, Lieutenant?’ Mac MacDonald answered, ‘Of course you can,’ and then he looked across at Dave Groome. ‘I’m presuming that’s okay, Dave. The techs have taken fingerprints?’ ‘Sure have, Mac. From all the school bags. And we’ve finished with Katie’s.’ As the detective spoke he lifted her bag full of books off the table and took it to her, gave her a friendly nod as he handed it over. ‘Thanks,’ Katie murmured and glanced at the bag she was holding, and frowned. ‘I’ve just remembered something,’ she began and then paused. Dave Groome stared at her. He trusted this girl, was prepared to listen to anything she had to say. He had taken her statement earlier, and he had been impressed with the way she had handled herself. She had been calm and very precise in the details she had given him; she was an articulate, intelligent young woman, and he felt a certain admiration for her. ‘What is it, Katie? What’ve you remembered?’ Dave probed. Katie shook her head, still frowning, and taking a deep breath, she murmured, ‘Well, it might not be anything really, but –’ She stopped and stared across at the far wall where a row of hooks had been hammered into place for their coats. The two coats which had hung there previously had now been taken away by the police, and all the hooks were empty. A lump came into her throat, and tears welled. After a split second, she went on in as steady a voice as she could muster, ‘It’s about my bag of books, Detective Groome. At home, earlier, when I realized I’d left the bag behind, I tried to think where I’d put it in the barn. I just couldn’t remember. Then later, when Niall and I arrived, I saw my bag immediately. It was over there, against that wall, with Denise’s bag and Carly’s, all three standing on the floor underneath their coats. Except there was no coat above mine, since I was wearing it. The bags were neatly placed, and I thought, oh, three bags in a row, like that old nursery rhyme…three pretty maids all in a row. Then I suddenly remembered that I hadn’t put it there, I’d thrown it down in the dressing area behind the curtain.’ She indicated the curtain in the corner, and finished, ‘And I couldn’t help thinking…how odd. Who moved my bag? And who arranged all three of them like that, in such a neat row?’ ‘Do you think the assailant took your bag and put it with Carly’s and Denise’s? Is that what you’re saying, Katie?’ Dave asked. Katie nodded. ‘Yes, I am. Who else would have done that?’ Dave looked at her thoughtfully, and after a moment said, ‘Perhaps one of the girls arranged the bags that way.’ Katie shook her head most emphatically. ‘I don’t believe so, Detective Groome. They never saw my bag after we arrived at the barn. You see, I was the only one who changed into a costume this afternoon, because I was the only one rehearsing. So they were never in the dressing area.’ ‘Couldn’t they have noticed you didn’t have your bag of books with you when you left?’ he pressed. Katie explained, ‘They were too busy to notice anything, they were concentrating on their parts, and anyway I rushed out, I was in a hurry. No, no, they didn’t notice, I’m sure of that.’ There was a silence. Mac broke it when he said, ‘Sorry, Katie. I’m afraid we’ll have to keep your bag after all. The killer may or may not have handled it. We’ll have to have it checked by the lab for trace evidence to be sure. If it’s clean you can have it back.’ Katie nodded and gave him the bag. ‘Have you heard anything about Carly, Lieutenant? Since she got to the hospital?’ ‘She’s still unconscious, but she’s stable,’ Mac answered. ‘And she’s in good hands at New Milford Hospital.’ ‘Will I be able to go and see her tomorrow?’ Katie asked. ‘Hopefully you will, yes.’ ‘Thanks, Mac,’ Michael said briskly, cutting in, wanting to get his children home. He edged Katie and Niall towards the door, and added, ‘Let’s get going, kids.’ 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. ‘We’d also better go and get ready, too,’ Niall said, looking down at Finian, and then rising himself. ‘If you’ll excuse us, Mom.’ Maureen inclined her head. Niall hurried out, Finian close on his heels. ‘I’ll get the jeep out of the garage, Dad,’ Niall said over his shoulder, and then stepped through into the back hall. ‘Thanks, son, I’ll be there in a minute,’ Michael answered, and turned to Maureen. ‘We’ll clean up everything else later, when we get back. But we should get off now. I’m worried about Carly’s mother. Janet must be beside herself, and I’m sure she’s all alone at the hospital.’ ‘She probably is,’ Maureen responded and rose. Looking at his drawn face, shadowed by worry, she felt a fleeting pang of guilt. When Michael had arrived home with Katie and Niall in tow, a short while ago, she had insisted they eat before going to the hospital, and would brook no argument. ‘You need something warm inside you, some food to keep up your strength,’ she had pointed out, immediately serving the stew. At first, Michael demurred. He had wanted to drive them over to New Milford at once, without further delay, and Katie had agreed; Maureen had managed to persuade them to eat first. But he was right, she acknowledged to herself now. The food hadn’t interested anyone, least of all herself, and in the end they had wasted valuable time hanging around the kitchen looking morose. ‘I’m sorry, Michael, I was wrong. I should have listened to you earlier,’ Maureen murmured. ‘Forcing food on all of you was silly, was of no purpose. And if I hadn’t done so we could have been there by now.’ Michael got to his feet, and his response was a quick, warm smile. Then gently he led her out to the back hall to get her coat. Maureen sniffed the cold air, walking along with Michael to the jeep, which Niall had parked outside the garage. She lifted her head and looked up at the ink-black sky, sparsely littered with but a few misty stars tonight, and felt the first drops of cold rain on her upturned face. Michael helped her into the back seat, where she usually sat with Katie and Fin, and just as he was closing the door a flash of bright white lightning streaked through the sky, and thunder rumbled far away, like distant cannons poised in the heavens. ‘There’s a storm brewing,’ she said to Michael, once he was settled in the driver’s seat, and she shivered and drew her quilted coat around her slender body. Looking at her over his shoulder, Michael replied, ‘I guess so, honey. But we must stop by the Matthewses’ after we’ve been to the hospital, storm or no storm. They must be devastated, and I’m only sorry I couldn’t get them on the phone earlier.’ He wanted to help them in whatever way he could. ‘Perhaps Peter and Lois are at Ted’s, you know how close they are,’ Maureen ventured, and then she stopped abruptly as the door opened and first Katie, and then Fin, scrambled into the jeep. Maureen slid along the seat to make room for them, and once Niall had jumped inside next to his father in the front, Michael turned on the ignition and backed out of the drive. Katie immediately bunched up to her mother, and put her arm through hers, wanting the comfort and security of her closeness. Maureen was well aware of Katie’s neediness tonight, and it was understandable. All of the girl’s defences were down, and she was still in shock, vulnerable and hurting, and wanting to be with her parents, her mother in particular. No one spoke. Michael drove towards New Preston and lovely little Lake Waramaug, heading for Route 202 which would take them directly to New Milford and the hospital. Usually when they were in the jeep together they chattered and laughed, told silly jokes, and sometimes they sang their favourite songs, for they were all musically talented. Niall, in particular, had a wonderful voice that made every one of them stop singing the instant he opened his mouth, so they could listen to him. Fin said Niall had missed his way and ought to be in musicals, or a pop star, but they just laughed at Fin, most especially Niall. But this evening the jeep was quiet and sad, the baleful silence engendered by shock and worry. And fear, of course, on Maureen’s part. She knew, deep down within herself, that she was terribly afraid for Katie’s safety, although she had not voiced this to Michael, nor to Katie herself, as yet. Maureen Byrne was nobody’s fool, and she knew there was a deadly killer out there, on the loose. Perhaps he was some kind of madman, a psycho. And how did they know that this psycho wouldn’t seek out Katie next? Perhaps he had intended to kill all three girls, but had been cheated out of one. Yes, there was still one left to kill. Her Katie. Her beloved only daughter. Maureen’s mouth went dry and there was a hollowness in the pit of her stomach as she contemplated the horrendous possibilities. Such dire and troubling thoughts appalled Maureen, but she knew she must not push them to one side. Common sense told her she must deal with the situation in a direct manner, discussing it with Katie, as well as her husband. Despite her daughter’s feyness, her artistic turn of mind, her innocence, and lack of experience of life, she did happen to have a practical side to her nature. This trait had always pleased Maureen, reassured her that her daughter had good judgement, and that this would help her to make the right choices in life. It now struck Maureen that Katie would be the first one to understand that she must be careful, that she must be street-smart, and not put herself at risk. Instantly, this realization brought a bit of relief, but she would have a proper talk with her about everything later, that was essential. At this moment, though, Carly’s condition, and the seriousness of her injuries were uppermost in everyone’s minds, and to discuss anything else would appear horribly selfish. As if zeroing in on her mother’s thoughts, Katie leaned closer to Maureen, and said, in such a low voice it was almost a whisper, ‘Do you think Carly’s going to die, Momma?’ Maureen turned to look at Katie, and then she put an arm around her daughter’s shoulder and brought her closer. ‘I hope not, mavourneen. But we must be honest with ourselves, accept the seriousness of her injuries, not push them under the rug because they frighten us. ‘Tis important we face them. Head injuries of this nature can be fatal. On the other hand, they may be superficial, not as serious as we’ve been led to believe. The best thing is to be positive, and believe that Carly is going to get better. We’re also going to pray that she’s as good as new, not impaired in any way.’ Katie sat bolt-upright. ‘Mom, I hadn’t thought about that! Oh God, brain damage. Carly could end up…a vegetable.’ An involuntary shiver shot through the seventeen-year-old girl, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, suddenly more than ever afraid for her dearest friend. Maureen took hold of Katie’s hand, and said, ‘Try not to worry, Katie, darlin’. And don’t forget what I’ve forever drummed into you…there’s nothing worse than anticipatory despair, ‘tis debilitating, for one thing, and a waste of precious time for another. So let’s not start anticipating anything. Let’s hold positive thoughts, and hope that Carly’s going to be her old self in no time at all. And we must be there for her as much as we can.’ ‘Yes, Mom, we must. We’ll all rally round for Carly,’ Katie swiftly asserted, her natural courage coming to the fore. ‘She could end up in a coma like that woman Sunny von Bulow,’ Finian said, leaning forward around Katie, so he could look at his mother through his thick glasses. ‘And she’s never going to come out of it.’ ‘Be quiet!’ Maureen hissed, waving her finger reprovingly at her youngest child. She never knew what he was going to come out with. ‘There are a few press people over by the door,’ Michael said to them as he drove up to New Milford Hospital and parked the jeep at the kerb. ‘But they don’t know who we are, or our involvement, so we’ll just walk in quietly. Don’t look at them, especially you, Fin. And all of you, stick close to me.’ ‘We will, Dad,’ Finian promised, sounding excited. ‘Come on then, let’s go!’ Maureen said. Quickly taking charge, she opened the door, got out, then waited for Fin and Katie to alight from the jeep. She immediately took hold of Fin’s hand, even though he wasn’t too happy about this, considering it babyish. He struggled; she held him. The Byrne family, huddled together, went through the front door of the hospital in a tight-knit little group. Once inside, Michael walked over to the desk where a nurse was on duty; the others trailed along, stood waiting patiently behind him. ‘Good evening,’ Michael said. The nurse glanced up at him, half smiled, nodded. ‘We’re friends of Mrs Smith,’ he explained. ‘Mrs Janet Smith. She’s here because of her daughter, Carly, who’s in intensive care.’ ‘Yes,’ the nurse replied, and shuffled some papers on the desk. ‘How is Carly? Do you know?’ ‘About the same, so I understand.’ ‘We’d like to see Mrs Smith, and Carly, if that’s at all possible.’ ‘Can I have your name, please?’ ‘I’m Michael Byrne. From Malvern. This is Mrs Byrne…’ As he spoke, Michael turned, took hold of Maureen’s arm and brought her forward. ‘And my children,’ he added, indicating the trio alongside. The nurse peered at them all over her spectacles, and then she looked down at one of the pieces of paper on the desk, as if she were checking something out. After a few more minutes without any kind of response, Michael, growing impatient, said, ‘Can we go and find Mrs Smith?’ ‘You don’t have to find her,’ the nurse replied. ‘She’s in the second waiting room, down that corridor.’ She spoke somewhat grudgingly and looked ill at ease. Katie at once noticed this and stepped forward, saying as she did, ‘Hi, Mrs Appleby! Don’t you remember me? Katie Byrne. I go to school with Florence.’ The nurse studied Katie for a moment, and when recognition finally dawned she knew exactly who Katie was, and exclaimed, ‘You’re that good little actress I’ve seen in the school plays and concerts! The friend of Carly and Denise.’ Nurse Appleby leaned over the desk, and dropping her voice, added, ‘Terrible thing about the murder, wasn’t it?’ Katie drew back, turning cold inside, and said nothing. Michael took hold of Katie’s arm and, regarding the nurse, he smiled at her with great cordiality, and said in his most charming voice, ‘Thanks very much, Nurse Appleby. We’ll go and see Mrs Smith.’ They found their way to the second waiting room, halfway down the very long corridor. Katie hurried forward, her eyes on Janet Smith. She was sitting alone on a small two-seater sofa, looking worried and forlorn. Her short, platinum-blonde hair was all awry, as if she’d been running her hands through it endlessly. Her face was as white as a bleached sheet, and there were dark violet smudges under her pale grey eyes, which were bloodshot from crying and filled with terror. As always, she wore black wool slacks and a matching black sweater; her beige raincoat was thrown over the arm of the sofa, and she tightly grasped the handbag resting in her lap. She looked up as Katie came to a standstill in front of her, and blinked rapidly, frowning, as if she didn’t know who Katie was for a moment. Then she got a grip on herself, and said, in a hoarse whisper, ‘Oh Katie, there you are…’ ‘I’m sorry we’re so late in coming, Mrs Smith,’ Katie apologized, and went on to explain swiftly, ‘Niall and I had to help the police. They kept us for ages. We had to give statements, and then Dad came to get us and we went home together to get Mom and Fin.’ ‘We came as soon as we could, Janet.’ Maureen spoke softly, and seated herself next to Janet, who looked at her through the corner of her eye, then nodded dourly. ‘How’s Carly doing?’ Katie asked, crouching down next to Mrs Smith’s knees, her face full of genuine concern, her blue eyes spilling sympathy. ‘Thankfully, her skull has stopped bleeding, and although she’s still unconscious, the neurologist says he thinks she’ll regain consciousness in the next few days.’ Katie let out a huge sigh of relief, and she smiled for the first time in hours. ‘Oh, this is good news, we’ve all been so worried about Carly. Do you think I can see her, Mrs Smith?’ She gazed at her friend’s mother expectantly. Janet stared back, shaking her head, and made a moue with her thin mouth. ‘No, they won’t let you, I haven’t seen much of her myself. She’s hooked up to a lot of tubes and machines, and there are two policemen guarding her door.’ Sudden tears sprang into her pale eyes, and she sucked in her breath, then gasped, ‘It’s terrible when you think of it…that she might be in danger still. My poor Carly, my poor little girl.’ Touched by Janet’s plight, and worried about her, Maureen put a comforting arm around her. ‘Look, she’s going to be all right. It’s just a precaution, the police being there.’ Katie rested her hand on Mrs Smith’s knee. ‘Carly saw him. So she can identify him, and that’s why the police have posted guards. In case he comes to the hospital. But he won’t come, and you mustn’t worry, because the police are going to catch him.’ Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/barbara-taylor-bradford-2/the-triumph-of-katie-byrne/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. 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