‘It doesn’t work that way,’ he said and went to stand at the bookcase, leaning his elbow on a wooden shelf. She hoped the IKEA unit might topple over and pin him underneath. No such luck. He continued. ‘You abandoned your daughter all week. She had no school and you left her with your silly friend while you went out to tell lies on national television. That is not acceptable.’
Julian Bradley was damaged, she concluded, and her body was too weak from the accident to physically fight him. She wasn’t a trained negotiator, but she’d have to rely on words to win this battle. A soft calmness settled over her as she felt Annie’s warm body within the safety of her arms. She’d do anything to protect her daughter. And she knew she just might have to do anything. She’d have to play him at his own game.
‘I do my best, Julian. I’m not like those other mothers.’ God forgive me for the lies I’m about to tell, she thought. ‘They deserve to be punished for abandoning their children. You’re doing a great job and I thank you for it. What type of world would we live in if we didn’t have people like you to get justice for the children whose parents have failed them? But I haven’t failed my daughter. You must see that. She’s strong and healthy and loves music and dancing. She has a loving father and—’
‘And where is he? Went off and left her with you. I know fathers like him.’
She wondered how fractured his home life had been to create such a monster. To create a killer of children.
‘Don is working abroad with the army,’ she said with forced calmness. ‘Doing his job. Peacekeeping in Lebanon. He’s a good father, isn’t he, Annie?’
The child nodded, her face animated with terror.
‘He should be here.’ Julian took his elbow away from the shelf and folded his arms. ‘What do you mean about me punishing people? I do my job as well as I’m allowed within the constraints imposed on me. I bring cases to the courts, but nine times out of ten the kids are returned to the family where they were endangered. What kind of justice is that?’
‘It’s called operating within the law. Your job isn’t to enforce the law in your own way, Julian, it’s to monitor and observe and then you have to walk away.’
‘Walk away? When I do, those kids are murdered. How can a normal person do that?’
Was he saying he wasn’t normal? Her head was on fire and her chest was clogged. What was she to do or say? Hopefully not the wrong thing.
‘No matter what you think,’ she said, ‘it’s wrong to take a child from their mother.’
‘A mother who abused that child?’
‘You have no right to take the law into your own hands.’ Where was this bravery coming from? Or was it folly? She was in so deep she couldn’t see a way out.
‘My own hands?’ Frowning, he moved towards her. ‘What do you mean?’
Sinead stood her ground and wished Annie was out of the room.
‘That’s what you did, isn’t it? You thought you were working for the greater good.’
He scrunched up his eyes and shook his head. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’ With his mouth set in a thin line, he stepped into her space.
She feared for her daughter’s safety. She feared for her own, and she wondered where Carol was. Had he harmed her? And was he about to do the same to her and Annie?
Before he could come any closer, the doorbell chimed and Sinead almost cried with relief.
‘Who’s that?’ he asked, eyes darting around the room.
‘I don’t know.’ She had no idea; how could she? She hoped it might be the guards, but they’d have no reason to call to her house.
The bell rang again, followed by loud knocking.
Sinead prayed that whoever it was would not go away.
* * *
Martina rang the bell again, then hammered on the door.
McKeown tutted and turned away. ‘So much for your bright idea. She’s not here.’
‘How did you reach that conclusion?’
‘Her car isn’t here…’ He paused. ‘Oh, right. She crashed it.’
‘She was discharged from hospital. She has a ten-year-old daughter, so she’d have come straight home, wouldn’t she?’