Free The Dark Place by Sam Millar

saying I’m a baby snatcher. The cheek of them!”
    “And the cheeks on him!” responded Naomi, smiling. “They’re jealous of you, Ivana.”
    “I didn’t hear you, dear. What did you say?”
    “I said – Ivana! You heard me perfectly!”
    “I know dear. I know,” smiled Ivana.
    “He really has a nice arse, hasn’t he?” said Naomi.
    Ivana nodded. “
Very
nice arse, darling. Very nice
everything
.”
    “That’s
nice
to know, Ivana,” cut in Karl, quickly returning to his newspaper. “Did you come here just to tell us about Vincent witheverything nice?”
    Suddenly sitting down on the chair next to the desk, Ivana hooked the newspaper from Karl’s fingers and said, “No … actually … I’ve come to talk.”
    The immediate sombre tone of her voice stopped Karl from snapping the newspaper back.
    “Go ahead. I’ve got two good ears and a head full of nothing. Just don’t tell me that you’re pregnant,” said Karl, smiling. “Or that you’re trapped between a cock and a hardener.”
    “That isn’t funny, Karl,” said Naomi. “Apologise to Ivana, right now.”
    “My apologies for my crass humour, Ivana. Now that you have the full attention from a fool, what’s on your beautiful mind?”
    “I’ll go and make some coffee,” volunteered Naomi.
    “I would much rather you stayed, Naomi,” said Ivana. “I have to get this off my chest and need you to hear what I have to say. You may not think much of me when you do.”
    Naomi shook her head. “Don’t be silly, Ivana. You know how much I’ve always admired you, your bravery. Isn’t that right, Karl?”
    Karl nodded, noticing for the first time that Ivana’s T-shirt did not say Coke, at all, but Cock.
    “Would you like something stronger than coffee, Ivana?” offered Karl, pulling his eyes away from the disconcerting T-shirt. “Make you feel a bit more relaxed, perhaps?”
    Ivana’s face tightened, then quickly loosened as if remembering the price of the make-over. “No thank you. I wish to remain clear-headed,” she replied, looking directly into Karl’s eyes. “It’s concerning … it’s concerning those young girls found murdered in the Black Mountain and city centre. The news hasn’t stopped showing their faces on TV the last couple of days. Terrible …”
    “Absolutely horrible,” agreed Naomi.
    A thick silence swiftly entered the room. Naomi glanced at Karl, who kept his face professionally expressionless.
    “Yes? What about her, Ivana?” enquired Karl, eventually breaking the silence.
    “I think … I think I know who could have
something
to do with them.”
    “What?” Karl’s attention went immediately into full swing. “What do you mean?”
    “I’m not … I’m not one hundred per cent … call it intuition. Something just snapped in me when you produced that poster of the young girl with the sad eyes, at my birthday. I can’t get her face out of my head. I don’t even know if what I have to say is relevant.”
    “Anything you tell me will be thoroughly checked out, Ivana,” encouraged Karl. “Anyway, it’s better to be one hundred per cent wrong rather than seeing another young girl brutally tortured and murdered. Don’t you agree?”
    “That’s good philosophy, I suppose.” Ivana had an anguished look on her face while picking at an errant piece of cuticle on her middle finger.
    Naomi reached out and, touching Ivana’s shoulder, said, “Just take your time, Ivana. We are both here for you as friends. Okay?”
    Ivana nodded, before sucking in air. “All those years ago when I was a young boy named Frankie Gilmore, my father worked as the gamekeeper for a very wealthy family from the Malone Road called Hannah. The Hannah family owned acres and acres of woodland and forest on the outskirts of Belfast. The family consisted of a mother, father and son. The mother, Margaret, had inherited the money from her parents, prominent horsy people originally from Scotland. The father, Paul, was a distinguished