Page 95 of Three Widows

He was taken aback, about to apologise, when he saw the twinkle of devilment in her eye.

‘I spoke to her on the phone. She was off today. Just a teenager. She called me, really upset. Her neighbour went missing yesterday and was found dead this morning. You might even be on the case.’

His need for something sweet turned sour in his mouth. ‘Is it Bianca Tormey?’

‘Yes.’

‘She was the dead woman’s babysitter.’

‘Isn’t it so sad? Two little mites are now orphans.’

‘Did Bianca ever mention a group called Life After Loss? Éilis Lawlor set it up.’

Amy stayed silent for a moment, then turned up her pert nose. ‘I’ve heard of it. Did you see something you’d like?’ She indicated the menu in his hand, and he noticed she’d closed hers.

‘I’ll just have a coffee,’ he told the waitress when she appeared.

‘Jasmine tea, please,’ Amy said. When they were alone again, she said, ‘I should have had a glass of milk before all that wine. That’s one of the remedies to stop a hangover before it takes hold.’

‘Amy, did Bianca tell you anything about Éilis Lawlor that might help us?’

‘Really, Larry? Let’s not darken our evening by talking about the dead.’

And so he acquiesced and changed the subject.

* * *

The euphoria from breaking Éilis’s bones is long gone. But the scene I set for the guards is class. I am way too clever for them.

I have a choice of victims, but another has made her way into my peripheral vision. I hadn’t considered her before, but now… I need to think who will die first. Who has the best eyes to look back at me from their glass cage?

I linger.

But not for long.

I make up my mind.

Someone else will die.

Maybe even tonight.

61

Amy had not intended going to Larry’s house, but the effects of the late meal and too much wine had put her in the mood for sex. Afterwards, Larry had called a taxi and she’d been dropped at the head of her road. She had no idea what time of the night it was, and sighed with relief when she reached her house.

Through the glass in the front door the light in the hall shone out. She was immediately grateful for her habit of leaving it on in the morning in case she was home late. It helped her find her keys in her bag. She fished them out, and after trying with the wrong key, she studied the bunch in her hand, trying to work out which was the correct one.

She inserted another in the lock and turned it. As she pushed in the door, a strange smell wafted around her and something gripped her arm. A hand snaked around her shoulder and she was shoved into the hall.

‘What the hell?’ she gasped, trying to twist.

In her ear she heard a whisper, but she couldn’t decipher the words through the fog swirling in her brain. As she struggled to extricate herself, the grip on her arm and around her neck tightened. Her attacker’s sleeve was black, but because they were behind her, she couldn’t see anything else. She felt the air catch in her throat; she couldn’t breathe. She tried to bring her foot back to kick at her attacker’s leg, but it was like her body had frozen.

She was unable to move.

No air.

Dark spots danced in front of her eyes, heralding that she was about to pass out. Why hadn’t she stayed the night with Larry? Why had she been so damn independent?

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