Page 57 of Three Widows

‘I can have a word…’

‘I can handle my own daughter, thank you.’

‘Can you, though? You can’t keep lying for her.’

Kathleen stood. It was pointless having this ongoing argument. ‘I’m going to bed.’

‘I can’t stay tonight.’

‘That’s okay. I’m tired. Call me tomorrow.’

She was pulled into another warm hug, the woman’s jacket soft and luxurious.

In her ear, the woman whispered, ‘Don’t even think about telling anyone.’

Kathleen pulled away, speechless. Shaking violently, she watched as Madelene Bowen walked away.

36

Jackie Boyd wanted to surprise her ex-husband. He had no need to know she was on her way to Ragmullin. She’d booked the one-way flight from Malaga. She needed time to work on him. To see how she could wangle her way back into his life so that she could stop running. She knew it would be difficult. There was no longer any love between them. She had never believed in love anyhow. Without regret or conscience, she knew she used people to satisfy whatever need she had at a particular time. And she’d used Boyd to give her son safety and protection.

The Spanish police had been happy with her work as a CI, a confidential informant – a snitch according to the criminals. That was until she had to disappear when her cover had been almost blown. That was the reason she’d had to tell Boyd about his son.

Maybe now she could help the gardaí and put the smile on the other side of Lottie Parker’s face. She grinned as she drove the rental car up the slip road off the M50 and onto the M4, settling it into cruise control.

She couldn’t wait to see her little boy, but she was even more excited to see the look on her ex-husband’s face when she presented him with her ultimatum. The package deal. She grinned, thinking about her scheme. If he wanted Sergio in his life, she had to be part of it too. Sergio plus her, or Mark Boyd would never see his son again.

She let down the window and laughed into the darkening night air.

* * *

I can’t believe it. How can this be happening to me?

The dumb bitch has gone and croaked after a few whacks of the plank. It might have been a heart attack, or shock from her broken bones. I’m no doctor, but I know she’s dead.

I have to reel my plans into one night. I had so much laid out for her. The time in the cold room. I wanted to watch her teeth chattering, her eyes widening. Making her think I was about to let her go, then smashing up her arms to match her broken legs. I’m astounded at how much pain the human body can withstand before succumbing to death. But this bitch has denied me all that. She’s cheated me. I can’t contain my rage. I take her hands and stamp on them with full force. Bitch.

There is one last thing I have to do. I take the scalpel and bring it close to her face. With a gloved finger, I peel back the eyelids and stare into her dead eyes. Another pair to make a set.

Once I have them siting in a jar with the lid tightly closed, I know I don’t have much time to do what must be done.

Looking at the blood streaked plastic sheeting, I think about the site I picked to dump her body. Will it still work with no time to prepare it properly? One thing is certain, I can’t keep her here. Already I can smell the decay seeping from her orifices. Soon the room will be suffused with toxic gases. The human body is such a vile thing. She is a vile thing.

The cold room? No. Nothing for it but to dispose of her body. Then I’ll watch the stupid guards flounder around like pigs in shite. I laugh at the analogy. I am too clever for them.

All the annoyance with this one just means I have to speed things up.

My next victim is already in my sights.

DAY TWO

37

Helena hated waking up alone. The walls seemed to whisper their secrets; she strained to hear what the house was keeping from her. She rubbed her eyes and her fingers came away with streaks of mascara. She’d gone to bed without taking her make-up off. Again. A veil of despair descended, and she shivered, even though the rising sun streamed heat through the window.

Shuffling onto her elbow, she glanced at the clock before gingerly lying back on the pillow. Could she leave the shop closed today? But if she didn’t go into work, she’d just lie in bed all day, drowning in her anxiety.

She wanted to talk to her friend. It wasn’t like Éilis to leave her high and dry. She thought of Jennifer. Éilis had set up the group after meeting her. When Helena joined, she had felt like a third wheel. For no apparent reason, she seemed to be blocked out of certain conversations. Things were being whispered behind cupped hands. It wasn’t until Orla arrived that Helena had been brought into their confidence. To be part of what they came to call the deadly secret. More like a red destruction button, when she thought about it.

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