Harm’s Reach

‘Not now, no,’ said Nessa. ‘I used to be, there was a big gang of us used to hang around together, but we haven’t seen each other in, easily, six or seven years.’

‘Laura told her employers last week that your mother died and that because you were illegal you couldn’t fly back to Ireland for the funeral, so she was going to spend the weekend with you for support,’ said Ren. ‘We obviously now know that you’re legal …’

‘Thank God I am,’ said Nessa. ‘My mam did die last week, but yeah, I came back from Chicago for the funeral. But, Laura … that’s so weird. I haven’t spoken to her in years. Someone else must have told her about mam.’ She gave a grim laugh. ‘In fairness, she always used to use me as an alibi in college when she was lying to her mother about where she was staying.’

I wonder what she was lying about this time.

‘What did Laura study in college?’ said Ren.

‘Psychology,’ said Nessa. ‘She’s got a degree. But it’s impossible to get a job in it. And she would have needed a PhD in the States to do more with it. I don’t know anyone who can afford to do that.’

‘Was there anyone else she might have known in Chicago?’ said Ren. ‘Anyone else from your hometown?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Nessa. ‘But I can ask around for you.’

‘Did any of her friends end up in New York?’ said Ren.

‘Yes,’ said Nessa. ‘I can get their names for you if that would help?’

‘Yes,’ said Ren. ‘Thank you. Nessa, what kind of girl was Laura? Was she the type to get involved with the wrong crowd?’ What a shit expression. ‘Was she a risk-taker?’

‘No, not at all,’ said Nessa. ‘Her father and her sister were big drinkers … and that definitely turned Laura off it, like she was very conscious that addiction runs in families. So I doubt she’d ever get into anything serious, like drugs or anything like that, if that’s what you mean. She dated a few losers, but not, like, psychos or anything.’ She paused. ‘Jesus, though, Laura really did have a shitty childhood with her father being such an alco around town and her mother always taking him back or showing up and they’d have huge rows in front of everyone. Laura always kind of rose above it. She was like one of those little flowers you see growing in a weird place. Like on the side of some shitty road in the middle of nowhere.’

Ren slid off Janine’s desk and grabbed a chair to sit on.

‘If you lead a tragic life, don’t you deserve to have a beautiful death?’ said Ren. ‘Garlands of white flowers, unicorns, dancing sprites, lyres, lutes … not sure if they’re the same thing …’

‘Me neither,’ said Janine.

Ren filled her in on the other side of the conversation with Nessa Lally.

‘What I’m kind of confused about,’ said Ren, ‘is the surrogacy thing … if this is a surrogacy. Aren’t the Catholic Church anti-surrogacy, anti-IVF …’

‘They are,’ said Janine.

‘How would that sit with Robert Prince?’ said Ren. ‘Wouldn’t this look bad if it came out? That this prominent Catholic was, in fact, using a surrogate? I mean, that’s a massive conflict right there.’

‘Wouldn’t he have just not gone along with it in the first place if he had such a problem with it?’ said Janine.

‘Who knows?’ said Ren. ‘Change of heart? Or is he one of those men that messes with women’s heads?’ She paused. ‘Maybe it’s the Order of Catholic businessy thing.’ She Googled it. ‘OK – OCBLA. The Order of Catholic Business Leaders of America. Let me go back over this. So he failed in his bid to be elected chairman in 2005, and in 2010.’

Five-year term.

Next election: 2015.

Ren Googled the former chairmen.

‘All the former chairmen were multi-millionaires, all male, all married with kids. Robert Prince was unmarried when he first ran. He was married when he ran a second time in 2010, but he had no children. He didn’t get elected. So, if this surrogacy had been successful, he would have had a child by 2015 … albeit in a manner that would go against the beliefs of all the members of the organization.’

‘Cynical,’ said Janine.

‘Yes,’ said Ren. She searched to see if he was running for the following year. There was no mention of it.

‘Let me call Eli Baer in New York.’ She dialed his number. ‘Instant response, I love it. Eli, it’s Ren Bryce. What do you know about the Order of Catholic Business Leaders of America?’

‘Apart from it takes a long time to say it, it’s an exclusive new-but-old boys’ club …’ said Eli.

‘Secret handshakes …’ said Ren.

‘Yes.’

‘Do you know of Robert Prince’s involvement with it?’ said Ren.

‘I do not,’ said Eli, ‘but I know who to ask.’

‘Also, has anything else come up on Robert Prince … like issues with women?’

‘Nothing serious,’ said Eli. ‘I know a cop who worked private security for him a few times. He said he was a real control freak. That was it. Really cared about his image. He made his date change that night. They went to pick her up, she came down in a really short dress and he got out of the car, went back into her apartment with her and when they came back down, she was wearing something a lot more conservative …’

‘No black eye or split lip …’ said Ren.

‘Nope,’ said Eli. ‘Really, Prince just came across to him as a rich jerk. But I guess he does have an image to protect … and this lady wasn’t quite tying into it.’

‘No escort or hooker tales?’ said Ren.

‘No,’ said Eli, ‘but you know he can afford to be a very careful man if that’s what he’s into.’

‘I know …’ said Ren. ‘OK, thanks for that.’

‘Any time,’ said Eli.

Ren put down the phone. ‘Prince is a control freak,’ said Ren. ‘That’s all we’ve got. And Eli will look into the Order of Secret Handshakes.’

‘Another thought,’ said Janine. ‘A less conspiratorial one – if Laura Flynn had a psychology degree, could she have been going for a job at the ranch?’

‘That’s going to be part of my angle when we go and talk to the private folks of The Darned Heart Ranch. Firstly, I’m all about the employees, not the “guests”. Then – bam! – burning car.’

Detective Kohler stuck his head into the office. ‘Briefing here at six p.m. Ren, Robbie – can you make it?’

‘We sure can,’ said Ren. ‘In the meantime, we’re going to speak with the Faules, see if anyone saw anything, if they know anything more about the car, and if they’re harboring murderous, pyromaniac teens.’

‘OK,’ said Kohler, ‘we’ll see you later.’

Ren turned to Janine. ‘Do you think the parents of the teens know about the Faules’ trusting approach?’

‘Lord, no,’ said Janine. ‘It’s not like they would say that out loud. But, in the Faules’ defense, look at the adjoining property: an abbey. And it’s only the abbey boundary that is really crossable, unless you’re Bear Grylls. The Faules aren’t stupid. If the kids wander into the abbey, they’ll be seen, they’ll be pretty safe, and more than likely, they’ll be treated compassionately if they’re discovered. Obviously, a couple of the kids have strayed further, which is where we came in. What they do is prey on some kindly visitor to the abbey to drop them into town. Or they hide in the back of a truck. Or they reach out to one of the teen volunteers that come in and out of the abbey.’

‘So Kristen Faule thinks she’s got some kind of magic wand that will transform these kids,’ said Ren. ‘When it’s highly likely that most of them have been blackmailed into going there in the first place and are just biding their time. “You won’t get a car for your sixteenth birthday if you don’t get a handle on your behavior/you are forbidden to see your boyfriend or girlfriend/we’ll take away your iPad, trauma of traumas” …’