Unbound, p.24
Unbound, page 24
“It’s okay, it’ll all be fine,” I reassured her, whilst feeling that things were most certainly neither okay nor fine in the slightest. “This time tomorrow we’ll be strolling on the beach with you all. So look, just have a safe flight, and give Sol a big kiss and a hug from us both, yeah?” The call dropped and I looked down at the phone in my hand as though it were radioactive.
“Oh fuck,” Lilith repeated, and slowly submerged herself under the bathwater.
“Was it me?” I asked. Blood pounded in my ears and my voice sounded like someone was speaking far, far away.
Lilith resurfaced and frowned at me over the rim of the bathtub. “Was what you?”
“McKenna. What if I killed him, Lili? What if I went mental like last time and murdered the bastard when I was out last night?”
Lilith
I stared at Finn and waited for the punchline, but none came. “Fucking hell, you’re serious,” were the first words out of my mouth, before I could think of something a little more sensitive.
“Back in the spring I spent half a day running around Santa Marita biting chunks out of the masonry and I can’t remember a bloody minute of it,” he said. “What if seeing him yesterday triggered another episode and I went to his church last night and just... murdered him? I mean, I was out for hours and I still couldn’t tell you exactly where I went.”
“Finn Strachan, look at me right now,” I ordered. He finally stopped staring at his phone long enough to meet my eye and I reached over the edge of the bath and gripped his hand. “You’re not a killer for fuck’s sake. Even when you were in the very teeth of a psychotic hurricane the only person you hurt was yourself.
You drank the best part of a litre of dodgy absinthe and emptied your sister’s medicine cabinet just because you thought about the abstract concept of harming Sol, and as terrifying as those events have been to watch, I have never been scared for my own safety. Not for a single second.”
Finn shook his head, unconvinced. “Yeah, but what if this time I went too far, Lili? Maybe every time it happens I’m going to get worse, and that was me last night?”, he asked desperately.
That all-too-familiar doubt had returned to his expression and I could only hope my words would get through before he started to spiral beyond my reach.
I linked my wet fingers through his and kept going. “Because your name isn’t Doctor Jekyll, Finn. Being capable of the level of violence required to kill a man and actually having the kind of hidden alter ego where you act it out are two entirely different things. Hell, the only dormant personality that emerges from your subconscious when you’re howling at the moon is some kind of superpowered self-flagellant.”
Finn gave a wry smile and to my relief he seemed to be starting to accept what I’d said. “I can’t imagine Marvel picking up that particular franchise, somehow.”
“Really? I would totally watch that movie. But back to Niamh’s point,” I continued. “I don’t think there’s been a single coincidence involved in any of the shit that’s happened since McKenna showed up at the wake and I’m bloody furious with myself for not piecing things together earlier. The sooner we can get home the better.”
“You’ve already figured out far more than anyone else would love, if we’re talking about self-flagellating,” Finn said. “And talking of movies we’d want to see, now you’re no longer auditioning for that remake of The Exorcist, we’ll be on our way in no time.”
I rolled my eyes. “God, you projectile vomit over the love of your life once…”
Finn finally smiled. “That’s good to know.”
“What is?”
“That I’m the love of your life. Oh, and also that you don’t think I murdered a priest.”
Lilith
I’d just got out of the bath and wrapped myself in one of the hotel’s pristine white bath sheets when there was a soft knock on the door.
“Is that room service?” I asked. “God, they’re prompt at this place.”
“I reckon so,” Finn replied, then called out, ‘I’ll be there in a sec,” to whoever was out there.
Then there were three more knocks. Louder this time, and somehow far more agressive.
“That’s definitely not good, is it?” Finn asked me, lowering his voice to a whisper, and I shook my head.
I didn’t know who it was out there or what they wanted, but the fact that we’d simultaneously had the same amygdala response told me all I needed to know. So many things might have contributed to it: the timing, the volume or the staccato style of the knock, but it didn’t really matter because somewhere in that most ancient part of our brains we’d both received a warning that whatever was behind that door was a threat.
“Mr Strachan? Miss Bresson? Could you open the door please?” a voice called from the hallway. “We need to have a word.”
“Hell, that’s Stevenson,” I said, recalling the bumbling older police officer from the day before.
The corrupt, bought officer from the day before.
“Ah, shit,” Finn said.
I reached for the inhaler that he’d placed next to the bath and took two blasts before speaking. “And they know we’re in.”
“Well, they know one of us is,” Finn said.
“Oh God no,” I mouthed as I realised what he meant. “No. No, Strachan, don’t you bloody dare…”
“Listen to me Lili,” Finn said, his voice low and urgent. “I need you to stay right here, okay? I’m going to switch the bathroom light off and answer the door, and you have to stay low and keep quiet, sweetheart. It’s me they want, and you never know, they might just want to ask a couple of questions, yeah?”
I knew that what he said made sense; if I stayed behind, I could make some calls, find out more information, and maybe find that single opportunity to work things out. At the very least, as Finn clearly wanted, I could be the one to remain safe. “And if they don’t?” I could hear the plea in my voice, and I hated myself for it.
In reply, Finn gave me the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. “Then you’re smart and you’re brave and if there’s anyone in this universe I’d trust to come after me, it’s the unstoppable Lilith Bresson.” Then before I could argue he kissed me on the forehead and walked out of the bathroom, flicking off the lightswitch as he went. I crouched down behind the door in the darkness and hated myself.
“Is Miss Bresson here?” Stevenson asked.
“Nah, she went out for a run ooh, ‘bout ten minutes ago,” I heard Finn say, as casually as anyone could possibly sound. “You know what these fitness freaks are like, yeah? Not sure when she’ll be back – she’s doin’ about five miles a day at the moment.”
I held my breath in the darkness and listened to one of them step into our suite to take a look around. I guessed that would be the younger one of the two whilst Stevenson kept an eye on Finn.
“No one here.” As I’d presumed, McKinnan was the one to search our room, but due to either ineptitude or nerves he’d merely given the place a perfunctory glance.
Then Finn’s voice again: “Er, not bein’ picky or anythin’ fellas,” he said, almost imperceptibly louder than his normal tone, “But pretty sure your lot aren’t meant to be armed, yeah? Especially not some ancient, shitty Glock. Did yer fella Sergei not have any flintlocks left?”
“Shut the fuck up,” Stevenson snapped, and I could hear the fear in his voice. He certainly wasn’t a controlled and professional law enforcer right now; he was just a scared, stupid man who was in so deep that he felt he was drowning, and now I knew he had a gun that had apparently been bought on the black market. All I could do was stay silent and will Finn to stay calm.
There was the sound of a scuffle, of three people leaving our room.
Then there were only fragments of words, drifting from the hotel corridor, through to where I hid:
Finn Strachan, arrested… murder… not obliged to say anything… Writing… Evidence…
Then an all-engulfing, terrifying silence.
I swallowed hard to stop myself from shouting out or throwing up again. Finn had managed to give me both a warning and vital information. In that one awful moment he had still thought of me, but now he was gone and I had no idea how I would ever get him back.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Lilith
I wished I wasn’t feeling like microwaved death. I wished I had Call Me Ed at hand. I wished we’d never set foot back in Ireland, and whilst I was at it, I wished for a pet unicorn. In the meantime, I got dressed. Trainers, tracksuit pants, a warm sweatshirt, my inhaler in the side pocket. Preparing myself. Preparing for something I couldn’t predict.
Whilst I was tying my laces my mobile phone rang; the number on the display wasn’t one I recognised, but I knew the timing couldn’t be an accident.
“Now then, you stuck-up wee bitch,” Ciaran O’Halloran said, as soon as I picked up the call. “Time to listen for once, instead of mouthin’ off. I’m not sure where you’re hidin’ right now, but I’m guessing you’re close and in exactly four minutes I’m goin’ to be in the street behind the Rossmont, and the clock starts the second I hang up. You’re goin’ to meet me there, and I’m lettin’ you know I’m armed.
Then you’ll hand over your phone to prove you haven’t called anyone, you don’t bring company, no nothin’, and you can bet I’ll check you’ve obeyed my orders the second you hand your phone over. It’ll just be you, and if you do what you’re told, your lover-boy might just survive the night. If you decide to do anything clever, then I promise you he’s dead. That means no calls, no secret messages, nothin’. We clear?”
“Perfectly clear thank you,” I replied as calmly as I could then ended the call before he could say anything else. I guessed the clock had started ticking.
Long before I met Finn and allowed myself to become his Lili, I had created and inhabited the character of Lilith Bresson so well that I had eventually become her. She was manipulative, imperious and frankly completely unlikeable and at that moment I had never felt less like her in my entire life, but that wasn’t the point; Lilith Bresson was also a fearless, ruthless survivor, and it was time for me to bring her into the fray.
I picked up Finn’s soft, grey beanie hat and pulled it down over my damp hair. I caught the softest trace of his fresh, citrus cologne then forced myself to take a slow, deep breath. Screw your courage to the sticking place, Lilith Bresson, I ordered myself, and headed for the door.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Finn
I didn’t know where we were headed, but I did know that it certainly wasn’t to a garda station. Over the years I’d been booked in at just about every one of their less-than-salubrious venues in Dublin, and the road that Stevenson was currently driving down didn’t lead to any of them. Combined with the frequent road signs for the coast that I kept spotting, I wasn’t filled with any confidence whatsoever that this was a legitimate arrest. But still that doubt lingered.
You’re not a killer, for fuck’s sake… I clung on to Lilith’s words as if they were a psychic life raft.
Not. A. Killer. I hadn’t murdered McKenna, I told myself. I wasn’t guilty, and no matter how much my brain tried to trick me into thinking I was capable of such an act, I hadn’t done it. For all the good that fact actually did me.
*****
I leaned my head against the car window with my hands cuffed behind my back and watched Dublin’s suburbs fall away in the evening gloom, slowly coming to the realisation that I might be viewing my native city for the last time. Sleet began to pattern the windscreen and I wondered if I was counting down to my final few breaths.
I tried to keep calm enough to think straight, but none of my thoughts were too good; I was pretty sure neither officer was part of the Armed Response Unit so they shouldn’t actually be armed - especially not with a battered old Glock that had last seen service in a shootout in the back streets of Tirana - and I was also fairly confident that driving a handcuffed prisoner out into the middle of nowhere instead of the nearest booking station wasn’t standard Garda procedure either.
I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer to St Jude, patron saint of desperate cases and hopeless causes on the basis that right now I was both those things, and asked for courage for whatever trial was yet to come.
*****
We drove for maybe another hour or so in excruciating, deafening silence. After all, what was anyone meant to say? I briefly considered ‘So, how much did they pay you for this?’ or maybe just, ‘How do either of you fuckers sleep at night?’ but decided against it when I realised didn’t actually want to hear their answers.
Eventually the car slowed and pulled into a sorry excuse for a parking lot. There were no street lights, no houses, just an array of shadowy low buildings and ramshackle sheds. Beyond that, the sea crashed against a low harbour wall and white spray, luminous in the fading light, rose up in clouds against a tenebrous sky.
I guessed we were at one of those countless little excuses for industrial estates along the east coast that housed everything from independent garages and boat repair shops to cannabis farms and fishing huts. It seemed like the perfect place to get away with murder.
Gravel popped and crackled under the wheels as the car slowed to a halt and McKinnon hauled on the handbrake. Stevenson hauled his portly frame over the passenger seat to address me. “Okay lad, we need you to get out here, alright?” There was an expression on his face that hovered between fear and regret, and under my current circumstances neither of those things was good.
I peered out of my window. “What, right here? You sure? Doesn’t look much like an official booking station to me, like.”
“Ah, don’t make this difficult son,” Stevenson said sadly. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed McKinnon gripping the steering wheel and taking slow, steady breaths to try and stave off a panic attack. I fervently hoped the bastard’s heart burst.
“So, what was it that started it all off for you fellas, eh?” I asked, not particularly expecting an answer. I just needed to say something, to remind them that I was human; to make it hard for them to do what they were about to do. “A few Euro for lookin’ the other way whilst the O’Hallorans flogged a few wraps of dodgy smack? A little bonus for a warning call to let them know some of your mates were on the way for a sniff around, or just a quick freebie from one of the poor sad wee mares they’re pimpin’ out?”
“Look fella,” Stevenson said, with a face on him that told me I’d been bang-on with my guess. “If you don’t make a fuss, we’ve been told that Lilith won’t be touched; it’s you he… they… I mean, ah, bloody hell, what I’m trying to say is we don’t want anyone else to get hurt either, okay? I know you won’t believe it but we’re not really the bad guys here - if anything, we’re under just as much threat as you.”
I gave him an incredulous stare and any humanity sailed out of the window. “Oh what, you want fuckin’ absolution now? Really? Jesus fuck! Well I’m sorry lads, but you’re not gettin’ it from me. Maybe try the fuckin’ Pope, yeah?” I spat.
I thought McKinnan might be about to cry. “Just do as you’re told and get out of the car, okay? I mean, I’m sorry about all this, but they’ve got stuff on my family, y’know? My youngest, Ryan, he’s only six for God’s sake.” As he spoke he shifted in his seat so I could see the Glock at his hip, as if I needed any kind of reminder that he was carrying the bloody thing.
And oh, I knew alright. Knew that their greed and their weakness and fear had led them further down that dark path than they’d ever intended to go, but now here they were, ultimately doing the bidding of some sad, perverted fuck they’d probably never even had the pleasure of meeting. I’d seen this played out time and time again at Albermarle Hall until Lilith Bresson, braver than either of these two fools could imagine, had turned up and said No to all of it.
“Fuck the pair of you and fuck your families,” I said, and then there was nothing else to say. I was cuffed and outnumbered and maybe if I did as I was told, Lili might live to see another day.
I got out of the car, stood barefoot on the sharp, icy gravel and raised my face to the biting November sleet. When I breathed in I could taste seasalt.
Both gardai were right behind me now. Stevenson cleared his throat. “Right, Strachan. We need you to move away from the vehicle. Nice and slow, like.” He was trying so hard to sound authoritarian, but his voice cracked.
I turned to face the pair of craven fuckers one last time. “I hope the pair of you rot in hell,” I said, and began to walk.
Confiteor Deo omnipotenti
One step. I picture Lilith the first time I ever see her, a furious and beautiful mermaid on a flickering TV screen
Beatæ Mariæ semper Virgini
And another. Lilith in the lair of Albermarle, defiant and incorruptible
Beato Michaeli Archangelo
Three. I feel the shards of broken glass slice into the soles of my feet. I feel Lilith’s cool, assured hands rubbing arnica into my flayed back
Beato Ioanni Baptistæ
Four steps now. How many more will they let me take? I take a deep breath and imagine Lilith’s clean scent replacing the stench of rotten seaweed and diesel corrupting my lungs
Sanctis Apostolis Petro et Paulo
Five. I still haven’t stopped. Haven’t looked back. I’ve loved the most amazing woman
Omnibus Sanctis et tibi pater
Six. And she’s loved me. Could be worse
Quia peccavi nimis cogitatione verbo et opere
Seven steps. Blood from my torn feet mingles with the puddles made by the rain and fret. Might become evidence, proof that I was walking away, not running, when… No. Don’t even think the word
