Ronan ignored him. ‘What Daddy did was to cut up my brother into tiny little pieces and then throw him in the rubbish, along with all the banana peels and rotting vegetables and snotty tissues. That’s how he looked after Joey. That’s how he made him better.’
A stifled cry from Gemma.
‘Yeah. Nasty, huh? This is the man you married. What do you think of him now?’
‘I didn’t know what else to do,’ Scott protested. ‘He was dead. It was an accident, but I didn’t know if anyone would believe it. I was just trying to protect my son.’
Ronan rounded on him with the gun again. ‘Protect him? What kind of sicko are you? My brother is dead because of you. You didn’t even have the guts to own up to it. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t shoot you all right now. One good fucking reason.’
He took up a two-handed stance with the gun, training it on each of them. Watched as the parents tried to shrink into the couch.
‘You want to protect your son? Then protect him now.’
He moved closer to Daniel. Put the gun to his head once more. The pleading resumed.
But not from Daniel. He just sat there, staring straight up at Ronan. His face was impassive. No fear, no anger, no sorrow. Nothing. And what Ronan realised in that moment was that the target of his wrath didn’t understand death, and that it didn’t frighten him. He hadn’t understood Joey’s death either. He had truly believed that his parents had somehow managed to mend him. If Ronan told him that he was actually Joey, and that this had all been one big practical joke, Daniel would believe it.
That’s how crazy this situation was.
And Ronan didn’t know how to process it.
In his head, it would have been Barrington Daley or some other low-life who had murdered Joey. That was the world he and Joey had lived in. Live by the sword and die by the sword. And Ronan would have found that piece of shit and executed him, and everything would have been right again. Balance would have been restored.
But this?
This family weren’t even in the game. They hadn’t killed Joey to rip him off or for revenge. All that had happened was that they accidentally stepped on the toes of a man who objected to it. It was hard to despise them for that. Even harder to justify ending their days, despite what they had done to cover up their actions.
‘Don’t move,’ Ronan told them. ‘Not one inch.’
He moved to the farthest point in the room, on the other side of the dining table, where he could still see the family. He took out his phone and made a call.
‘It’s me,’ he said in a subdued voice. ‘I’ve found them. I know who killed Joey.’
27
‘Who? Who did it? Barrington Daley? I want that bastard’s head on a plate.’
‘It wasn’t Barrington.’
‘Then who?’
‘It was . . . it was a family.’
‘A f—What do you mean, a family? Do you mean like the mafia?’
‘No. An ordinary family. They’ve got this kid. He’s not all there.’
‘You mean a retard?’
‘Yeah. It was an accident.’
‘Ronan, lad, what the fuck are you talking about? Joey was accidentally killed by some window-licker?’
‘Yeah. That’s about it.’
‘Really? Then how come my son ended up in a dozen pieces on a landfill site? Are you going to tell me that was an accident too?’
‘No. They tried to cover it up. They didn’t want the lad to get into trouble.’
‘Yeah, well that worked well, didn’t it? Because now he’s neck-deep in shit. What did you do to them?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘These people who murdered your twin brother. What did you do to them?’
‘Nothing yet. I’m looking at them now. I’m in their flat.’
‘I see. So you’re having tea and cake with them, is that it?’
‘Mam, don’t be like that. I’m trying—’
‘Like what? How should I be? You’ve found the people who murdered Joey and they’re just sitting there? What’s the plan here, Ronan?’
‘That’s why I’m ringing you.’ He lowered his voice even further. ‘I don’t know what to do with them.’
She sighed. ‘Do I have to state the bleeding obvious, Ronan?’
He wondered how bad it would be. Broken bones? A long stay in hospital? And who? All of them? Or just make an example of the son?
