Patrick stood up and led Burns out past the reception area, thanking him and asking him not to talk to anyone about what he’d found.
‘Don’t worry, Detective. I won’t tell a soul.’
Patrick watched him go, bright yellow socks and all. Now he was keener than ever to talk to Shawn Barrett.
Chapter 27
Day 8 – Carmella
Roisin McGreevy visibly relaxed once they left the house, despite the presence of the little gang of staring boys in the cul-de-sac. She obviously found them far less scary than her mother. Carmella waited until they were out onto the main road, hoping her phone would continue to record clearly enough.
‘It must’ve been bad, to make you completely change the way you dress and look.’
Roisin’s lip trembled. ‘It was . . . I couldn’t believe what he wanted to do to me. What he did.’
‘Tell me. It’s OK. I’m not going to judge. You had a terrible ordeal.’
She took a deep breath. ‘His bodyguard came and got me after the show, then we – me and Shawn – got smuggled out into a limo with black windows. I was so excited at that point. He said we were going out to dinner. He was lovely. The car was lovely. We had drinks; it had a proper bar inside and everything. I couldn’t believe my luck. He was talking to me all romantic, telling me how beautiful I was and that. Then he goes, “Let’s just go back to my hotel so I can get my wallet.” So we stop off at The Merrion, in the back door ’cos there were fans outside, and next thing we’re in his room – some massive suite with a four-poster bed. I don’t know what we were drinking ’cos I didn’t really drink, even then – and I never drink now – but I started feeling woozy and kind of dreamy; the whole thing was like a dream. I wanted to take a photo of him, but he wouldn’t let me. Then he goes, “Why don’t we just lie down a little while before we go out? I’m pretty tired after that show. Let me jump in the shower.”’
Roisin swerved to avoid a large pile of dog poo on the pavement. She glanced up at Carmella.
‘You’re doing great, Roisin. This is so helpful, really. Go on.’
‘When he was in the shower I felt really tired, so I lay down on the bed. I think he must have given me something to make me sleepy. Next thing I know, he’s sitting astride me, naked, kissing me. It was nice at first, once I got over the shock of him suddenly being . . . on me. Although I was a bit scared because I’d never been with a boy before, not . . . properly. And he . . . he . . . didn’t look like a boy, you know what I mean? It was massive.’
She looked away, blushing scarlet.
‘He tried to tie my hands together with a scarf. I didn’t want him to, but he wasn’t listening. He just kept saying, “This is fun, isn’t it? Let’s have some fun.” But then he got out this riding crop thing, and—’ She stopped, gulping.
‘Did he hit you, Roisin?’
‘I tried to ask when we were going out to dinner and he just laughed and said he wasn’t hungry anymore. He got more and more . . . worked up. It was like he was in a proper frenzy, hitting me all over my body until he . . . you know . . .’
‘Climaxed?’
‘All over me,’ she said, looking as though she was about to throw up. ‘Not in me. I mean, we never actually, you know, did it.’
‘No penetrative or oral sex at all?’
The girl shook her head, mortified. ‘Just kissing, and . . . hitting me.’
‘What happened then, Roisin?’
‘Then he got his driver to take me home. I bashed my face on the door frame, I was in such a hurry to get out of there. I was in a right state, and so these two guys came in the car with me.’
‘Which two guys?’
‘One of them was Mervyn Hammond. He looked, like, completely stressed, and he kept saying “So, you’re all right, aren’t you?” like he was daring me to say I wasn’t, even though I could barely sit down, Shawn hit me so hard. I couldn’t believe it had happened to me. I couldn’t stop crying. I was so humiliated . . .’
What an evil toad that Barrett was, thought Carmella angrily, and Hammond not much better, clearly trying to cover up for his protégé.
‘Who was the other guy, Roisin?’
She shrugged. ‘Someone from the record company. Gordon? Gary?’
Carmella didn’t recall anyone with either of those names.
‘From the Dublin office or the London one?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t think I heard him say anything, so I’m not sure if he was English or Irish. He was nice. He put his arm round me in the car – not in a creepy way, just comforting me. . . . Then when the cheque arrived from Mervyn Hammond it was in a big package of OnTarget stuff, you know, CDs and T-shirts and what have you – I mean, like I ever wanted to see Shawn’s face again? You must be kidding, I thought. I threw it all out. Except the cheque. I had to tell my folks about the cheque because I didn’t have my own bank account then and I didn’t know what to do with it. I told them that they’d paid me off ’cos Shawn got drunk and shoved me into the doorway, and they wanted to make sure I wouldn’t tell the press or tweet about it or anything. I did have a big bruise on my cheek. Mam said it served me right for going into his room, and I was lucky nothing worse happened . . . I’ve never told her that it did. If she’d seen the bruises all over the rest of me, she’d have taken me straight to the police.’
Roisin was crying again. They were passing a scrubby little park, so Carmella steered her to a graffitied bench, sat her down and handed her another tissue.
‘I’ve never told anyone this before.’ Roisin sniffed.
‘You’re being really brave. And so helpful. Really. It’s been totally worth me coming all the way over to speak to you – thank you. So you didn’t even tell your friend Scarlett?’
Roisin shook her head and wiped her eyes. ‘Never saw her again, or any of my other OnTarget friends. Couldn’t hack it. They think I’m a weirdo, but I don’t care. I don’t think I’ve been out anywhere since; only school and work. If an OnTarget song comes on the radio, I have to switch it off, or leave the room. If I see Shawn on telly, I have to go and actually throw up.’
Carmella wanted to give her a massive hug. She felt unspeakably sorry for her – but then thought that Mrs McGreevy could well have been right: Roisin was lucky nothing worse had happened. She thought of the mutilated bodies of Jessica McMasters and Rose Sharp and wanted to tell the girl that she might well have had a very lucky escape.
‘That Mervyn Hammond . . . he didn’t need to pay me off. I was never going to tell anyone about it anyway.’
‘You shouldn’t feel ashamed—’
‘No, it’s not that. It’s them – the fans. You know I said before, they can be vicious. If it was in the papers that I was accusing their hero of attacking me, they would kill me. Literally kill me. I’m not really scared of Shawn or Mervyn Hammond or anyone else – well, I am, but not nearly as scared as I am of the other OnT fans . . .’ She shivered.
Carmella took a business card out of her bag and handed it to Roisin. ‘Listen. I don’t know if you’ve had any counselling or not, but you ought to. I understand you don’t want your parents to be involved, but I know a few excellent counsellors in Dublin I could put you in touch with directly, now that you’re sixteen.’
‘You’re super nice. I wish more Dublin cops were like you.’ She blushed.
What a lovely kid, thought Carmella. She wanted to help her, make the bad memories go away as completely as the bruises Shawn had inflicted on her. ‘Are they not?’ she said lightly, smiling at her. ‘Anyway, I need to get going back across the water. Don’t want to miss my flight – and you don’t want to be too late for work. Did you want me to talk to your boss so you don’t need to lie about witnessing an accident?’