Part 28 (1/2)

*I want my mum!'

*Mary, dear, I can't . . .'

She fell forward and buried her face in my chest. For a moment I held my hands up and away from her as she heaved against me. I'm not a touchy-feely person at the best of times and the thought of embracing an eighteen-stone nuthouse would not normally have appealed to me, but there was something touchingly helpless about her outburst. I let my arms fall. I hugged her. *It's okay,' I said.

*I'm scared,' she cried.

*I know.'

*He said I was the Devil's work and I'd have a Devil's punishment.'

*He's just trying to scare you.'

*He's said he'd . . .'

*Mary . . . Mary . . . will you tell them that you're sorry?'

She nodded.

*Will you tell them that you believe in Christine? That you realise that you were wrong and that all you want to do now is pray and ask for forgiveness?'

*I will.'

*Do you promise me?'

*I do.'

*Good. Then I'll have a word with them all, and we'll see if we can't get it all sorted out. Is that okay?'

She nodded again against my chest. *I don't want to go there,' she whispered.

*I know you don't.'

*Can you not go there for me?'

*I'll be there with you.'

*Will my mum be there?'

*She will.'

*Will she hold my hand?'

*If you're good, and you tell the truth, she'll hold your hand when you're finished. Is that okay?'

I unclasped my arms then and she sat back. She pulled her free hand across her face. *I'm sorry for crying,' she said. She let out a little chuckle. *I'm so silly sometimes.'

*It's natural.'

*I will tell the truth. I'll be good.' She shook her head sadly. *I don't know what came over me. I'm just scared.' She rubbed at one eye with a knuckle. *I don't really remember any of it.' Her voice was lower now, more adult as the words began to spill out. *How I got to the church, how I came to be riding down that hill so fast . . . I remember you jumping out in front of me . . . and then waking up in Dr Finlay's . . . and all those horrible people shouting at me and throwing things and screaming and throwing and screaming . . .' Tears began to drip down her face again. *They were like . . . like wild animals . . . I could see their teeth . . . all bared and sharp . . . I don't know what would have happened if Constable Murtagh hadn't been there . . . all those people, people I've known for years . . . I've told their fortunes . . . and made them lunch . . . and gone to their homes and then suddenly they're all screaming at me as if I was the Devil himself . . .' She pulled suddenly at her lip; her eyes were wide, begging. *I'm not the Devil, am I? I'm not some . . .'

*Mary, I've never seen anyone less like the Devil.'

*Not even when I was coming down that hill . . .'

*Not even.'

*You will help me, then?' I nodded. *And you'll tell Mummy I'm all right, and that I don't need anything. But you'll get her to come all the same, to look after me when it's all over?'

*I will.'

*Thank you. I'm sorry I'm so much trouble.'

*It'll be okay, Mary.'

When we were going back down the stairs, Murtagh said: *She's a s.p.a.ce Cadet, isn't she?'

*Bonkers,' I agreed.

29.

The sun was just pus.h.i.+ng its face through the fast-dissipating mist as I emerged from the station and walked back along the sea front. The vigilantes nodded wearily as I pa.s.sed. *All sorted,' I said.

At the junction I turned up the hill towards the church. Halfway up I stopped at Dr Finlay's surgery to ask him if he would speak on Mary's behalf, tell them she had a split personality or bad mood swings or was largely harmless apart from isolated murder attempts, but he wasn't in. Mrs McTeague squinted up at me. *I've no idea where he is,' she said, true to form.

It was a little before 9 a.m. when I reached the churchyard. Although the trial was still an hour away people were already milling about the yard, hush-talking in little weedy clumps. Half a dozen of them had gathered about the doorway and were staring intently at something. Curious as ever, I wandered over. One of them looked up sharply as I approached. He murmured something and the rest turned towards me. Two I recognised as members of the Council: Carl Christie the Credit Union man and the ex-publican Jack McGettigan. I nodded.

*Morning, Dan,' said Christie. He angled his head back towards the door. *Did ye see this?'

He stepped back. A mess of blue-paint graffiti adorned the hall door: FREE MARRY RILY.

I resisted the temptation to smile. *Jesus,' I said, almost as thoughtlessly, then added quickly, *would not be amused.'

They nodded in agreement, and then, almost as if it was ch.o.r.eographed, they shook their heads in disgust.

*Jackie Lavery came to open up this morning, found it,' one of the men I didn't know said. Slim fella, ginger eyebrows beneath a tweed cap. A face as well. Hungry-looking. *It was still wet.'

Jack McGettigan pointed further down the door. *Ye see that too?'

I gave it a closer look. There was more writing, smaller, smeared across the bottom of the door. I screwed up my eyes. *What's it say?' I asked.

McGettigan knelt down beside it. *Says nothing. Just letters. Jackie started cleaning it up this morning, then thought better of it. You can just about work it out.' He ran his finger up the remains of the letters, tracing them out through the smear. *A, F, L, R. AFLR. Whatever that means. Any ideas?'

I shook my head. *Somebody's initials, I presume.'

*I was thinking maybe it was an anagram,' Carl Christie said. *Y'know, a clue.'