Baz broke off. His eyes were open again and filling with tears. ‘What is it to you? John’s dead, Cato’s dead: we’re talking about history.’
‘Don’t they say old sins cast long shadows?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Harry sucked in his cheeks. He’d reached the point of no return.
‘Finbar Rogan came from the same street as Pearse Cato. Were you aware of that?’
Baz stared at him. ‘No. Not at all. But — what of it? Finbar was many things, by all accounts, but you’re surely not telling me he was a terrorist.’
‘No, but…’
Something inside Baz seemed to break. His face grew tight and ugly, as if he were wearing the wicked mask again. He seized Harry’s wrist in a painful grip and spoke in a croaky whisper. ‘Christ knows why you’re raking over the old embers, but I don’t like it. Take my advice, Harry Devlin — keep your nose out.’
‘Darling, you’re wanted!’
The soft urgent voice of Penny Newland startled both men. She stood behind them, framed in the doorway. At the sight of her, Baz released his hold. Harry rubbed his wrist; when he looked at the girl, she turned crimson.
‘You’re due on soon,’ she told her boyfriend. ‘Sophie wants you behind the mike. Come on. I’ll stay here for a bit — I need to talk to Harry.’
As Baz moved back towards the party, Harry looked straight at the girl; something in his expression seemed to hypnotise her. Baz brushed her neck with his lips, but she remained motionless.
As soon as her boyfriend had disappeared, Harry nodded at Penny. ‘Over here,’ he mouthed.
As if in a trance, she shut the door behind her and walked towards him, her high heels clicking on the concrete. She too was clad as a vampire, all in black with flowing cape, minidress and patterned stockings. The whiteness of her complexion contrasted with the scarlet of her lips and talons. Beneath the neck of her cape he caught a glimpse of ivory shoulders.
She stopped within touching distance of him. ‘What do you want of me?’
‘I think you know.’
‘You tell me.’
She folded her arms, as if determined to test her will against his.
His whole body tingled with excitement and fear. He sensed that during the next few minutes, the course of a human life would change.
‘Let’s start with how John Gilbert died.’
She was standing in shadow. It was too dark to read her expression.
‘Now then,’ she said in her soft Irish accent, ‘what more is there to say about John Gilbert’s death?’
He ran his tongue over his lips. Any man would find her attractive, he thought: the thick dark hair, the almost perfect features, the bare white skin and the body-hugging dress. Penny Newland was an exciting woman.
‘I believe there’s a link with the killing of Finbar Rogan.’
‘And what might that link be?’
He leaned forward. She took a couple of steps back, pinning herself in a corner by the bottom of the stairs. Advancing, he felt her shrink away from him.
‘You,’ he said. ‘Finbar remembered you.’
She closed her eyes, seeming to hold her breath for a long moment before answering.
‘And I … I could never forget him. Hard though I tried, it simply wasn’t possible.’
She breathed out and bowed her head. It seemed to him that she had come to a decision.
‘You see, Harry, he left his mark on me.’
As he watched in silence, she fiddled with the strings knotted at her neck and the cape slipped silently to the floor. Taking the narrow straps of her dress in the crook of each forefinger, she eased them downwards. With the straps off her shoulders, she began to peel the velvet from her, pausing only when her large dark nipples were exposed. His mouth was dry and when at last he spoke, his voice was hoarse.
‘The elusive butterflies.’
And he ran the tips of his fingers over the exquisite insects that, long ago, Finbar Rogan had tattooed on the breasts of the woman who would one day run him down.
Chapter Twenty-Six
She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. The tattooed breasts rose and fell. The butterflies were beautiful; Harry contemplated his dead client’s artistry with something close to wonder. After a little while she pulled the dress up again, concealing the final clue he had sought. Opening her eyes slowly, she spoke in the softest of whispers.
‘When I saw you lead Baz out here, I knew you’d discovered my secret. I was afraid you would. From the moment I met you, I could tell you were determined, that you never let go.’
‘I don’t know the whole story, though I’ve worked out a great deal.’
‘And the police?’
‘I haven’t told them about you.’
‘They’ll find out before long, won’t they? Someone caught sight of me last night. God — last night! It feels like a lifetime ago.’
‘Who saw you?’
‘A courting couple. They came driving up as I stood over Finbar’s body. Why I needed to check he was dead, I can’t explain; I’d not only run him down, but reversed back and forward over his body to make sure. I could … I could feel him beneath my wheels.’
She shuddered. Harry could sense her re-living the moment when she snuffed out a life.
‘Anyway, this car trapped me in its headlights. I was temporarily blinded, but then I made out a girl in the passenger seat, staring at me. She turned to the driver and he put his foot down and accelerated out of sight. They had plenty of time to get an idea of my appearance. I expect they’ll come forward, once they hear the police appeal for witnesses.’
‘Not necessarily. They may have something to hide.’
‘Don’t we all? For a short while last night, I thought I could trust Finbar to take his pound of flesh, then leave me in peace. Stupid of me. And soon everyone will know.’
‘That you were Pearse Cato’s lover?’
Penny shivered. ‘He was an evil man.’
‘So how did you get mixed up with him?’
‘I was only a kid from a village in County Limerick: a seventeen-year-old virgin by the name of Edna Doyle. I’d not been able to find work near home, so I decided to try my luck in Dublin — the big city. In the end, I took a job in a bar near Trinity College. I was so naive. I didn’t realise it was a haven for men with more of a thirst for blood than for booze. And that’s where I met Pearse Cato.’
‘He picked you up?’
‘Oh, he made it clear from day one he was doing me a favour. I was nothing — a colleen from the countryside — while he was a big shot. In more ways than one, though I didn’t learn for a while how handy he was with an Armalite. He had other women, he was too vain to bother to conceal the truth. I was a possession. He even had me branded as his personal property.’
‘The butterflies?’
‘Yes. He said tattoos on women turned him on, but I think it was something more than that. He wanted my body to bear his insignia permanently, so that although one day he would tire of me, I would never be free of him.’
A tremor ran through her body. He wanted to put his arms round her, but knew it would be the wrong thing to do.
‘I’ll never forget the pain. I thought it would never end and I screamed in agony — it was like an injection coupled with a dentist’s drill. But even worse was watching my body being disfigured forever on a psychopath’s whim.’
Harry flinched. He could almost feel the tip of the needle entering his own skin. So much for the romance of carrying your life history on your flesh.
‘And you got to know Finbar?’
‘Yes. He twitched at the mention of Cato’s name — no shame in that, most people did. He’d grown up in the same street, he knew what Cato was capable of. I could tell he fancied me, but he didn’t dare do anything about it. If Cato had found anyone messing around with me, he’d have gone berserk. A word out of place could cost a man his kneecaps. Try to take Cato’s woman and he’d have you begging for a swift end.’ She touched the place where her cheek was marked. ‘This scar is the legacy of a small disagreement we had. I had the temerity to argue with him about the armed struggle. He soon put me right.’