Chapters (28)
- Also by Tana French
- Title Page
- Imprint Page
- Dedication
- Contents
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Acknowledgements
- The Secret Place
- I know who killed him
- Chapter 1
His face turns towards me. He’s as startled as I am. ‘Course. What’d you think?’
‘Don’t know. Never thought about it.’ Not once. And I should’ve. For a second I see Breslin in the interview room, practically lifting off his feet with fury, There’s no fucking way he did this; Breslin in his dark sitting room, before dawn, muffling his voice on the phone to Stoneybatter station. ‘Sorry,’ I say. ‘I’ve made a bleeding tosser of myself, the last while. A lot of ways.’
Steve doesn’t even try to deny that. ‘You’re all right. We’ve all done it.’
‘I’m not planning on doing it again.’
‘That’ll be nice.’
‘Fuck off, you.’ The cobblestones have lost that misty feel, they’re centuries’ worth of solid again, and the cold air hits my lungs like caffeine. I need to ring Crowley, tell him he’s off the hook for the article, make sure he knows he still owes me a big one and I’m gonna collect. I need to ring my ma and tell her about last night, whether I want to or not. Maybe it’ll give the pair of us a laugh. Maybe Fleas will e-mail me tomorrow, when he sees the headlines: Hiya Rach, saw your news, delighted everythings workin out for you, have to meet up to celebrate x. Maybe at the weekend I’ll text Lisa and the rest of my mates, see if they’re about. ‘You know what I need, I need a pint. Brogan’s?’
Steve hitches his satchel up his shoulder. ‘You’re buying. You still owe me for Rory not crying.’
‘What’re you on about? He bawled his eyes—’
‘I thought you were done being a tosser—’
‘Nice try. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna be a pushover—’
‘Ah, good, ’cause I was dead worried about that—’
I take one more look up at the rest of my life, waiting for me inside those neat sturdy squares of gold light. Then we start off across the courtyard, arguing, to get a few pints and a few hours’ kip before it’s time to head back and find out what’s in there.
Acknowledgements
Acknowledgements
Even more than usual, I owe huge thanks to Dave Walsh, whose insights into the world of detectives gave me everything in this book that’s true to life, and none of the elements that aren’t.