Something unspeakable had happened at number thirty Donegal Crescent, and he was starting to think that Alek was the primary living victim. He forced it along his mind as he showered, had coffee, ironed a shirt. Rebecca was still asleep when he left. He didn't wake her, and regretted not kissing her all the way to Shrivemoor, but by the time he got to the incident room, it was still Alek he was thinking about.
He went through the two DCs' statements from yesterday and set their parameters for day two. "Call me for anything, OK? Absolutely anything." When they had gone he asked Kryotos to chivvy up General Registry with Peach's paper record. She had it by 11 a.m. "You ready for this?" She sat down in the SIO's room, the docket on her lap. She looked astonishingly healthy that morning, as if all the light in the room was reflecting from her skin. It made him feel even more tired. "I found out who the victim of his indecent assault was."
"Go on, then."
" Carmel Regan. His wife. She was two days short of her thirteenth birthday and he was nineteen. Her dad didn't like it, obviously, and shopped Peach. They stuck together even while he was doing time. And something else."
"Oh, God."
"Quinn got some preliminary results from the stuff in the attic'
"And?"
"They don't match Peach's profile."
"Yup. Thought that's what you were going to say." Caffery laced his hands together, rolled his head from side to side as if to get rid of a neck crick. "God," he said, after a while, scratching his neck. "Damn and fuck, Marilyn. I can't believe this is happening the wheel's coming off."
"I know. And there's more."
"More?"
"They reran the DNA tests on whoever raped Rory, and '
"Oh, no," he groaned. "Don't tell me."
"It came back the same as last time. Exactly the same. Alek Peach."
When Souness arrived at the incident room Caffery was waiting for her at the door. He'd been thinking about it. Thinking the impossible. "We need to go and see Alek Peach. I think I know what happened. And I think we should appoint a SOIT officer for him."
"SOIT? But that's for '
"For victims of sexual assault. That's right."
Tracey Lamb's name was on the board in the reception wing of Holloway Prison. It said she had a legal visit that afternoon at two o'clock. At one forty-five they took her with the other girls down to the holding celclass="underline" "Cunts' Corner', it was still called, just as it had been the last time she was here.
"You're in room one." Room one: that made sense -the one with the TV for video evidence, nearest to the kangas' station so they could keep her under their noses. "Here's your drawer." Lamb scowled at the officer, held wet fingers to the end of the roll-up to stop it burning, and slung it in the drawer to smoke later. "And the rest." The officer rattled the drawer. Obediently Lamb reached into the breast pocket of her T-shirt for her roll-ups. She had a tiny amount of tobacco as a remand prisoner she was allowed thirty pounds a week and that had to buy toiletries and all her tobacco.
Three K. Just think three grand, straight through your fingers.
"Come on, room one, let's be having you."
She was shepherded out of the cell, down the glass-lined corridor and into the room where Kelly Alvarez waited with her papers spread out on the table.
"Hi, Tracey."
"Yeah, what do you want?"
"I want to just tie up some loose ends about your bail next week -I want to be ready for them this time. Want to have a package to offer." She gleamed across at her client, anxious for a response.
Tracey sat down opposite and scowled. "You never told me I might not get bail today."
"I know, I know. I'm sorry about that, Tracey."
"I'd of skipped if I'd known this was going to happen."
"Tracey, that particular judge has got a reputation for it. I spoke to Prosecution afterwards and he was as surprised as I was." She smiled. Yellow teeth. "But we'll make a new application next week and then there'll be no problem."
"Yeah?" She raised her chin a little and looked carefully at Alvarez. In a week Steven might not be alive if he hadn't got out of the ropes he might still be there, bound to the cupboards and the table in the caravan. Seven days how long would it take? What the fuck would you do with a body f What did he have for water and food? The Cokes and chocolate she'd brought him this morning, and a little water in the bottle under the sink. "How can you be so sure I'll get out next time?"
"Ah, because I've got some inside info." She winked broadly. "Today's judge will be on holiday next week and it'll be someone else. There'll be no problem, I promise you."
Lamb nodded thoughtfully. Accustomed to looking over her shoulder, spotting the sleight-of-hand in every encounter, her senses were perfectly tuned in to certain frequencies and she could tell that Kelly Alvarez was not suited to this profession. She could tell that Alvarez was an idealist who wanted badly to please her clients and she knew exactly how to make this fundamental flaw work for her. "Did you find out how they got me?" she said.
"They had a video of you."
"Just one?"
"Just the one." She held up her copy. "Want to see it?"
"No." She shifted in her chair. "What am I doing in it?"
"You are…" She coughed neatly into a big fist. "You are indecently assaulting a small boy."
"Have you seen it?"
"Yes."
"And? Where are we? What am I wearing?"
"You're on a bed."
"Leopardskin cover?"
"That's the one. They'd had it for years." Alvarez put her head on one side, her eyes sympathetic. "I think it was always going to happen, Tracey. The only good thing is that it's all a long time in the past. They haven't got anything recent a jury will be convinced you've put it all behind you."
"No internet stuff?"
"Uh…" Alvarez started to look uncomfortable at the direction of the conversation. "No," she said cautiously. "The video was the only piece of evidence that's come to light so far."
"OK." There are at least four more videos of you in the stuff Penderecki was holding and a whole pack of Carl's internet stuff. Caffery would have surrendered all of that if he'd been connected. Lamb rubbed her hands over her face and looked over her shoulders at the kangas' station. "Right." She turned back, leaning forward, her voice lower. "I asked you about DI Caffery."
"Yes," Alvarez seemed happy to change the subject, "I was interested in that I asked Prosecution and he hadn't heard of him."
"You sure?
"Certain. I did a bit of asking around and he's with a totally different unit, absolutely nothing to do with the paedophile unit and certainly nothing to do with the investigation. Why? What're you thinking?"
"Nothing." But she was. Her thoughts were pounding along. Something in her kept stretching, stretching as hard as it could towards that money every sinew, every cell. "You reckon I'll get bail next week, then?"
"Oh, yes. I can guarantee you will."
Thirty.
It didn't take long for Caffery to recognize that Carmel Peach was on medication. During the night, Alek had been moved to an annexe room in a new ward, and Carmel sat at the end of his bed painstakingly picking the onions out of a bowl of minestrone soup and placing them in a napkin. She looked as if the pigment had been sucked out of her, as if what was left standing was just the dried-out hide. She had chipped her nail polish into flakes that lay across her T-shirt and jeans, and when Caffery and Souness came into the ward she looked up but didn't recognize their faces. Her mind flicked past them easily and she went back to the soup.
"Alek." Souness sat down next to him on the bed. Caffery closed the door and pulled down the blind. "Alek," Souness said gently, 'do ye know why we're here, son?"
"To give me more grief?" He was wearing a black and silver Elvis T-shirt and two or three pillows supported his back. His sideburns had been trimmed, right up to the grey, and next to him, on the side of the bedside cabinet, a child's crayon drawing had been taped. Kenny from South Park, "Rory' written in brown felt tip at the bottom. "You can't hurt me now." He stared at his big hands, his head drooping. "Not any more. Just do what you have to do."