Broken Silence: A tense psychological thriller

  BROKEN

  SILENCE

  FRAN MCDONNELL

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, businesses, organisations and incidents portrayed in it are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons,

  living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Published 2021

  by Poolbeg Press Ltd.

  123 Grange Hill, Baldoyle,

  Dublin 13, Ireland

  Email: poolbeg@poolbeg.com

  © Fran McDonnell 2021

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  © Poolbeg Press Ltd. 2021 copyright for editing, typesetting, layout, design, ebook

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  ISBN 978178199-720-8

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photography, recording, or any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher. The book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  www.poolbeg.com

  About the Author

  Fran McDonnell was born and raised in Newry, County Down. She has a degree in Nursing and worked as a nurse in England. She also has a Master’s in Women’s Studies. After travelling, Fran did a Diploma in Kinesiology and set up her clinic in Limerick City. She lives in County Tipperary where she grows vegetables and enjoys watching beautiful sunsets.

  Broken Silence is her second novel. Her debut novel What Lies Hidden was also published by Poolbeg Press.

  Acknowledgements

  Thank you to Paula Campbell of Poolbeg Press for reminding me, when I forget, what the heart of writing is.

  Thanks also to Gaye Shortland for taking this story and with vision and precision refining it to its present form.

  A big thank-you to Liam McDonnell, my alpha-beta-reader, who inspires me and who challenges me to be a better writer.

  Thanks to Nuala, Niall and Aileen, Joan Lonergan and Mary McInerney, my beta-readers, for your feedback, encouragement and enthusiasm.

  Thanks again to my mum who reads every word and whose attention to detail is superlative.

  Thank you to my family and Denise whose support helps me to keep moving forward when I lose heart.

  To Niall, I miss you.

  To all those who are healing from hurt,

  I wish you comfort and success.

  Chapter 1

  Tuesday 18th June

  Isobel McKenzie pulled up behind the row of parked cars. She could feel her stomach somersaulting and her heart fluttering in her chest. Was joining everyone for a walk really a good idea? She laid her head on her arms on the steering wheel and took a deep breath, held it and then exhaled for as long as she could. She pulled down the visor and looked in the mirror concealed there. Her wideset hazel eyes looked back at her, the frown between them testament to her anxiety. She rubbed her fingers through her short dark hair, rearranging the ash bit at the front. Despite the worries on her mind, she looked OK. Taking another deep breath, she cracked the door open. Ahead, she could hear the other women arriving and greeting each other, chattering about holidays and weather.

  Isobel took another deep breath. She knew the walk would help calm her mind and burn off some of her stress. Meeting everyone, the normalcy of it, the friendship, would also help. One last deep breath and she felt ready. She climbed out of the car, lifted out her Nordic walking poles and moved forward to be absorbed into the chattering women.

  The women were getting ready to leave on the four-and-a-half-kilometre walk along the banks of the River Shannon. She loved this walk on the outskirts of Limerick City. With the Shannon on one side and fields on the other, it felt like you were miles away in the heart of nature. The waterway was well populated, with ducks and swans shepherding their young up and down the river, and the hedgerows were abundantly leafy and fecund with birds and insects. Today the sky was blue with fluffy white clouds and, despite the fact that it was only ten thirty in the morning, it was warm. Isobel felt her heart lift.

  The group set off on the walk, Isobel’s poles marking each step.

  Since everyone walked at different speeds, generally over the journey Isobel spent some time with a number of different women.

  Today Marion settled into step beside her.

  “I’ve missed you for a few weeks, Isobel – is everything alright?”

  Isobel swallowed. She was struggling to give credence to her worries, never mind verbalise them to anyone else. She kept her head down as if concentrating on the synchronising of her feet and sticks. “Yes, I was in London meeting some friends and ended up staying longer than I initially planned.” She flashed a quick smile and then returned her gaze to the path.

  A cacophony of barks drew Isobel’s attention. A woman was straining to draw her Golden Labrador away from a field gate on the right as he protested loudly.

  Marion called out as they approached her. “Goodness, he’s intent on getting into that field, isn’t he?”

  The woman grimaced. “I know. He’s usually so well behaved.”

  The volley of barks increased as a terrier joined the choir.

  Isobel kept her head down and her pace up. Marion hesitated but also continued walking.

  As she swung her poles, Isobel could feel her tension unfurling. She inhaled deeply, her shoulders relaxed and her stride lengthened. Thank God for nature, movement and affable company.

  Half an hour later, having looped over the river and back, Isobel and Marion were on the home straight, back to their starting point. Conversation between them had lapsed as they both kept up their speed. Isobel looked from side to side as she walked. The swans and ducks were still giving lessons, the hedgerow was alive with bees and birds chattered loudly.

  As they neared a gateway, the strident sound of crows was much worse than usual. As they passed the gate, Isobel glanced in. In the overgrown grass she could see a group of crows flying up and descending again.

  Marion said, “God, those crows are so noisy.”

  Isobel missed a beat in her walking and slowed considerably.

  “Are you OK?” Marion slowed too, looking back in concern.

  Isobel stopped. Marion took a few more steps and then halted and swung around.

  Isobel’s brain was firing: dogs barking, crows in the field, there was something wrong.

  “Marion, will you wait here for me? I need to check something.”

  Marion looked puzzled. Isobel didn’t give her a chance to ask anything. She handed Marion her two walking poles and climbed over the gate. Standing in the field, she saw a trail of trampled grass. She paused, then choosing an alternative route she walked to her left along the border of the field. The grass here was undisturbed. Now level with the crows, Isobel walked through the long grass towards where they were congregated. As she neared them the cawing reached a crescendo and many birds took flight. She could feel a dread building in her chest. She knew that feeling – when in your heart you know there is something dreadfully wrong but do not want to admit it. Wasn’t that why she was stressed and out walking to begin with? She swallowed and emptied her mind. Her world had shrunk to the next two steps.

  Isobel saw bright orange through the grass. She inhaled sharp
ly and stepped slowly and deliberately. As her view shifted she could see two orange trainers. Her gaze shifted. Above that there was lightly tanned skin. She swallowed. Her gaze took in black rucked material then some white. The black was leggings, the white was underwear. Then, more tanned skin and knees. She took a deep breath, her hand coming to her mouth. Her gaze moved higher. A woman’s naked torso, her top cut open, her arms still in the sleeves.

  Isobel’s breath caught. Her eyes moved on. The woman’s neck, with red and purple marks. Glancing up to the face, she saw it masklike with damage that the crows had added. Spread out around it was blonde hair.

  Isobel gasped. She knew the woman was dead. She wanted to step forward and cover her but a voice, informed by years of watching CSI, stopped her. It was too late – there was nothing she could do. She inhaled again through her fingers. She needed to get the gardaí but she had to move first. Her body felt frozen. This couldn’t be happening. She rubbed her hands over her face, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them the scene was the same. She took a shaky breath. Her mind wanted to divorce from this reality, but it was real. She took another deep breath and straightened.

  Turning, she retraced her route across the field.

  “Marion, we need the gardaí.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “There’s a body in the field.”

  Marion’s eyes opened wide and she went pale.

  “I know. It’s hard to believe but it’s true.” Isobel injected some force into her voice. “There’s a body in the field and we need to get the gardaí. Have you got your phone on you?”

  There was no answer. Marion’s eyes were locked on Isobel’s and they were filled with rising panic. Somehow the shock and panic there made Isobel take charge of herself and the situation.

  “Marion, listen to me.”

  Marion shook her head.

  Isobel heard another voice.

  “Did you get caught short, Isobel?” Ann laughed gaily. Then seeing Marion’s face, she said, “Is everything OK?”

  Isobel shook her head. “No. It’s not. There’s a dead body in that field.”

  Ann gasped.

  Isobel voice was clipped and forceful. “Ann, we need to call the gardaí. Can you ring them and tell them we have found a body?”

  Ann nodded. She pulled her phone out of her waist pack.

  Isobel said, “You’d better go to the start of the walk and meet them. You can show them where to come when they arrive. I’ll stay with the … with the body.”

  “Good idea.” Ann nodded, then speaking into the phone ran down the path.

  Isobel took a steadying breath. So far so good. What next?

  “Marion,” she said.

  Marion’s head snapped up.

  “I need to go back to where the body is,” Isobel said. “Can you stay here and make sure no one comes into this field except the gardaí?” She softened her voice. “Can you do that?”

  Marion nodded. “Yes, yes, of course.”

  “Don’t touch the gate or anything else.”

  Marion nodded again.

  Isobel made her way back across the field, using the path she had already forged. Some crows had returned in her absence and she shouted and cleared them off. Her mind circled to one fact. A group of crows was called a murder of crows. Well, she was going to keep them away from this woman. She stood close to the body, in vigil. She thought of the woman and her family and said a prayer.

  Chapter 2

  As Isobel stood guard by the body of the woman she could feel the reality of what had happened hit her. This woman had marks on her neck. She must have been strangled. That meant that she had been murdered. Her clothes were in disarray. She must have been raped as well. Isobel shivered.

  She looked at the woman lying in the grass. She appeared to be in her early thirties. From the quality of the gym gear and her runners, she’d been interested in exercise. She had probably been out on the walkway when she was attacked. Could that have happened this morning, earlier? Isobel glanced around the field, wondering if the attacker was still there. She could feel panic rising in her chest and looked across the field towards the gate to where Marion was. She wasn’t alone.

  Isobel looked again at the woman. The crows had inflicted some damage, so she had been dead for a while.

  Isobel had no idea how much time had passed when she heard voices. She glanced up. Marion was talking to a man and woman at the gate. Maybe it was the gardaí – they weren’t in uniform but perhaps they were detectives. In relief Isobel started to move back along the path she had made through the field.

  “Stay there!” a male voice shouted.

  Isobel halted. She heard more sounds but couldn’t distinguish individual words. The tone, however, was impatient and angry.

  At her retreat the crows had started to circle and one landed and moved towards the body. Isobel hastily retraced her steps and resumed her scarecrow tactics, seeing off the avian intruder.

  “I suppose you’ve trampled all over my crime scene and ruined it?”

  It was the same voice, irritated and accusing. Isobel felt her chin rise. She cleared her throat and turned round, then had to raise her eyes a foot to take in the speaker’s six-foot-two form. His hair was brown with a hint of a curl and pushed back off a forehead which was wrinkled in a frown – beneath that his wideset brown eyes were narrowed in suspicion.

  Isobel could feel her hands curling into fists. “I did not.” Then honesty with herself brought anxiety. Maybe she had? “I suppose you’d rather that I’d just walked right on by and left the crows to do their worst?”

  The man stared at Isobel for a few seconds and then turned away.

  Isobel could feel her eyebrows rising and her mouth falling open.

  “Hello – I’m Detective Sergeant Alanna Finnegan.”

  A tall slim woman with brown hair, blue eyes and classic features approached her, her right hand extended in greeting. She was dressed in a navy trouser suit and crisp white blouse. The eyes were frank and assessing, her manner calm and capable.

  Isobel sensed that this woman rarely lost control and was an astute and formidable person wrapped up in a diplomatic package. She extended her hand.

  “Isobel McKenzie.”

  They shook hands, each assessing the other.

  Sergeant Finnegan gestured towards the man. “Detective Inspector Eoin Ryan.”

  Isobel nodded.

  Finnegan turned to the body. “Is this as close as you got?”

  “Yes.”

  Finnegan turned back to her. “Most people would have gone up to the body to see if the person was still alive. How come you didn’t?”

  Isobel’s mind went blank. She frowned.

  “Yes, how come you didn’t?” Inspector Ryan asked. “How come you even found the body this far from the path?”

  Isobel looked from one to the other, her frown deepening. She knew that the person who found a body automatically came under suspicion. Is that what was happening? Her already stressed nervous system released even more adrenaline and she could feel her heart pounding.

  “Answer the question.” Inspector Ryan took a step closer.

  Isobel stepped back, her eyes wide in shock and fear.

  Sergeant Finnegan put her hand on her colleague’s chest. “Alright. I’m asking the questions here.”

  He stared, then his shoulders relaxed and he nodded.

  “You take the crime scene, Eoin, and I’ll talk to this witness.”

  Gently she touched his arm. He nodded again and turned back to the body.

  Isobel watched Alanna Finnegan who stood there frowning, her face a swirl of emotions: concern, frustration and helplessness. Perhaps sensing eyes on her, she looked at Isobel and immediately the emotions were gone, replaced with a professional mask.

  “Let’s move back along this track you made, and you can tell me what happened this morning.”

  She led Isobel back about ten steps and then turned to face her
. “So what happened?”

  Isobel rubbed her hand on her forehead. “We were out for a walk. When we passed the gate the first time there were some dogs on the path barking.” She took a deep breath. “On our way back, when we were close to the gate I heard and saw all of the crows.” She looked at the sergeant questioningly. “I suppose something clicked in my brain – the dogs, the crows. It wasn’t normal. I thought that I’d better take a look.” She swallowed. “I saw her. I saw that she was dead. I didn’t go any closer. I knew I mustn’t mess up any evidence ... ” Her voice trailed off. “I guess I’ve watched a lot of CSI.” She shrugged. “And ... ”

  The sergeant waited.

  “And a friend of mine works for the Met in London. He has talked to me often about the importance of evidence in court. He used to tell me that it wasn’t just about finding the truth, it was about proving the truth.”

  Finnegan raised her eyebrows.

  Inspector Ryan walked to the sergeant’s side.

  Isobel glanced at him and then at Finnegan. “Well, did I walk on some of the evidence?”

  He turned slightly in her direction. “Actually you didn’t.” He turned to the sergeant. “He must have grabbed her and stood in along the hedge.” He nodded at Isobel. “Then he dragged her across the field here.” He pointed to the trail of trampled grass she had avoided earlier. “The forensic analysis team is on its way and so is the pathologist.” He looked at Isobel. “How did you know she was dead?”

  Isobel sighed. “I worked in hospitals when I was in university. I’ve seen a lot of dead bodies. I could see the damage done by the crows. I could see the marks on her neck.”

  He nodded. He turned again to Alanna Finnegan. “She was strangled. Her clothing … well, it looks like a possible rape too.” His face looked bleak.