‘They?’
‘Luke and his mate.’
Oh Luke. Again the petty spite of filming and then circulating the footage of Garrington on the floor, looking stupid, threatened to unravel her. A moment’s meanness that had led to such a bitter end.
‘What became of this video clip?’
‘They posted it on the web,’ said Conrad Quinn.
‘Did Thomas Garrington and Luke Murray know each other prior to this?’ Mr Sweeney asked.
‘No.’ Conrad Quinn rubbed the underneath of his nose to and fro with the back of his index finger.
‘And after that?’
‘Gazza swore he’d get even.’
Louise blinked hard, felt her throat close. This was important: that Thomas Garrington had made threats. All those days between Halloween and December the seventeenth and Luke had been a marked man. Had he known? Had he any idea that Garrington would come after him? Did he think he’d get away with it?
‘And did Thomas Garrington see Luke Murray before the night of the seventeenth of December?’
‘No.’
‘That evening you were with Thomas Garrington and Nicola Healy. Can you tell us what you had been doing prior to boarding the bus?’
‘Hangin’ out at Nicola’s.’
‘Doing what?’
‘Just hangin’ out, drinking and that.’
‘What were you drinking?’
‘Baileys.’
There was a ripple of laughter at this. The image of the cream liqueur, the Christmas drink popular with mums and grandmas, was at odds with that of kids getting rat-arsed. Louise hated them for laughing.
‘It was her mum’s,’ he added, by way of excuse.
Louise saw Nicola wriggle; as though this pathetic misdemeanour could in any way compare to what had followed.
‘And did you consume any drugs?’ said Mr Sweeney.
‘Just some coke.’
‘Cocaine?’
‘Yeah. Then her mum kicked us out, so we went to get the bus to Gazza’s. Luke was on the bus. It all kicked off. Gazza went for him, ranting he was, and he hit him.’
‘What were you doing?’
‘I didn’t hit him,’ Conrad Quinn said defiantly. ‘Not then.’
‘Did you verbally abuse Luke Murray?’ asked Mr Sweeney.
‘Yeah.’ At least he had the grace to look ashamed, thought Louise.
‘What did you call him?’
As the litany rang out, Louise felt the punch of each one, set her teeth against imagining Luke’s feelings as they harangued him.
‘And when Jason Barnes intervened and Luke ran off the bus, you gave chase?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Tell us in your own words what happened then?’
Louise felt nausea rising, a burning beneath her breastbone.
‘I ran and Luke went into this front garden but Gazza grabbed him before he could get to the door.’
‘Why d’you think he was going to the door?’
Conrad Quinn shrugged. ‘Made sense, try and get some help.’
And if he had? If Val had got there sooner and let him in? Or Andrew? Just a few moments and things would have been so different.
‘Carry on, please,’ said Mr Sweeney.
‘Gazza pushed him over. It was snowing and he was on the floor. We give him a kicking.’
The affectless tone he used chilled Louise’s blood, turned her skin cold.
‘Who kicked him?’
‘All of us.’ Dots danced in her eyes. She tried to swallow the knot in her throat, to hang on and not be dragged under by the awful questions and answers.
‘More than once?’
‘Oh yes.’ He gave a jerky nod, almost eager. She hated him; waves of fury rode through her. She wanted to slap at his face, claw at him, shake him, show him the depth of her hurt. How had he ended up like this, this scrappy kid? Had he been restless, unsettled, struggling with school like Luke, and then what? Masked his lack of power, his low self-esteem with aggression? Had he grown up confusing violence with attention, where a slap was as likely as a smile? Or had he simply been weak, lost, following Thomas Garrington wherever that might lead?
‘Continue, please.’
‘Then Jason Barnes grabbed Gazza and Gazza slung him off. This woman opened the door, she was calling out. Then Jason Barnes hit Gazza on the back, knocked him to his knees.’
‘What did he use?’
‘I didn’t see, I thought it was a metal pipe or summat, but I didn’t see it. Gazza was screaming, he got up and he went after Jason. Jason was coming towards me. Then Gazza got his knife out.’
‘Where from?’
‘He kept it in his boot. And he sticks Jason with it, real fast. Then he runs off and Nicola with him.’
‘Where was the knife at this point?’ said Mr Sweeney.
‘Gazza still had it. He said later he put it in his pocket.’
‘Let’s stick with what you witnessed. You knew he was carrying a knife?’
‘Yes, he always has one.’
‘Liar!’ a woman yelled. ‘You bloody liar.’ There was a hubbub in response, people shuffling around to see who had called out, others echoing the sentiments. Louise saw a woman towards the back, her face bright red, mouth tight. The skin of her neck loose, like one of Louise’s elderly clients. Her hair puffy and dry, a dandelion halo of an indeterminate shade.
‘Silence!’ ordered the judge. ‘I will not tolerate interjections in my court. If there is any more disruption, those responsible will be held in contempt and the gallery cleared.’
The woman wrenched herself away from the man beside her. Louise thought she’d walk out, but instead she set her face and folded her arms. Louise wondered whose mother she was. Garrington’s, she guessed. She thought the ones behind them, the overweight woman and her two daughters, were Nicola’s family. The girls looked like Nicola, but she was the prettiest.
‘Did you expect Thomas Garrington to use the knife?’ said Mr Sweeney.
‘No, never. I wouldn’t have hung around if I’d known.’
Just for the kicking, then? Louise thought bitterly. This is my son: the one on the ground, the one bleeding in the snow. The reckless one, the live wire, the one who always had to push it that bit too far and was lucky to survive. Lucky? There’s a thought to conjure with. The sarcasm was a prop, something sharp and hard to cling to. She would not break down here, she would not. Her nose stung, her teeth were aching, jaw clamped so tight she thought they might shatter.
‘You ran from the scene?’
‘Yes, soon as I realized what Gazza had done.’
‘You didn’t remain to continue fighting with Jason Barnes?’
‘No, he was just in the way. I was trying to get out of there.’
‘Then what happened?’ asked Mr Sweeney.
‘We ran into the estate until we were sure no one was following us. Gazza said split up. Nicola was like, “What have you done, man? You’ll get us all banged up.” And I’m the same.’
‘And how did Gazza react?’
‘He said to stop shittin’ ourselves and to separate. Said if anyone asked we’re to say we’d been in town after we left Nicola’s – where they have the ice rink. Hangin’ out there till midnight.’
‘When did you find out what had happened to Jason Barnes and Luke Murray?’ said Mr Sweeney.
‘The next day. Gazza rang us. He said to lie low and that. Not to blab.’
‘He was warning you not to say anything about the incident?’
Louise was sick of the term ‘incident’. It wasn’t a freaking incident; it was murder and attempted murder.
‘Yes, he was,’ said Conrad Quinn.
The boy continued to answer questions about the appeal and seeing their pictures in the paper.
‘In all this time did it ever occur to you to come forward and give yourself up?’
‘No,’ he said.
‘Why not?’
‘’Cos I didn’t want to go to prison,’ he said. People muttered at this, a ripple of sound. Louise caught Andrew’s eye. His gaze was unguarded, naked. She would have liked to have been sitting next to him, she realized. Or going for coffee in the breaks between witnesses. Dissecting the evidence with him, sharing outrage and confusion and indignation. Over the months, she had come to appreciate his company. The tragedy that linked them put them on special ground, a unique tribe in a ghastly place that only those who’d lived through similar experiences could comprehend.