The Secret Place: A Novel

By Tana French

“An completely captivating learn. . . . Tana French is just this: a really nice writer.” —Gillian Flynn

Detective Stephen Moran has been watching for his likelihood to affix Dublin’s homicide Squad while sixteen-year-old Holly Mackey arrives in his workplace with a photograph of a favored boy whose physique used to be came upon at a women’ boarding tuition a yr previous. The photograph were published at “The mystery Place,” the school’s nameless gossip board, and the caption says “I recognize WHO KILLED HIM.” Stephen joins with Detective Antoinette Conway to reopen the case—beneath the watchful eye of Holly’s father, fellow detective Frank Mackey. With the clues top again to Holly’s close-knit staff of buddies, to their rival clique, and to the tangle of relationships that sure all of them to the murdered boy, the personal underworld of stripling women seems to be extra mysterious and extra harmful than the detectives imagined.

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The textual content used to be to this point from what i used to be anticipating, took my eyes a moment to snatch carry of it. Joanne stored the most important to the boarders wing/school door taped contained in the lifetime of St Thérèse, 3rd yr universal room bookshelf. it can be long past now however it used to be there a yr in the past. I held the telephone out to Conway. Her face went targeted. She held her cellular subsequent to mine, tapped and flicked quick on the reveal. stated, “The number’s none of our women, or it wasn’t final yr. None of Chris’s neighbors, both. ” All their numbers, nonetheless on her mobile a 12 months later. No thread reduce, no longer even the best. I acknowledged, “I’ll textual content again. Ask who it's. ” Conway proposal. Nodded. Hi—thanks for that. Sorry, I don’t have everyone’s numbers, who’s this? I handed it to Conway. She learn it thrice, gnawing apple-juice sticky off her thumb. acknowledged, “Go. ” I hit ship. Neither people stated it; little need. If the textual content was once real, then Joanne and not less than another lady, most likely extra, had had how to get out of the varsity the evening Chris Harper used to be killed. certainly one of them may have visible anything. one in every of them may have performed anything. If the textual content was once real, then at the present time had became whatever assorted. not only approximately discovering the cardboard woman, now not to any extent further. We waited. Down at the enjoying box, the rhythm of the hockey sticks had became ragged: the ladies had noticed us, they have been lacking effortless photographs craning over their shoulders attempting to decide us out of the shadows. Little feisty birds clicking and wing-flipping out and in of the bushes above us. solar fading and blooming as skinny clouds shifted. not anything. I acknowledged, “Ring it? ” “Ring it. ” It rang out. The voice mail greeting was once the default one, droid lady telling me to go away a message. I hung up. I acknowledged, “It’s one in every of our 8. ” “Oh, yeah. the rest is much an excessive amount of twist of fate. And it’s no longer your Holly. She introduced you the cardboard, she’d deliver you the major. ” Conway pulled out her cellphone back. Rang one quantity after one other: hi, this can be Detective Conway, simply confirming that we nonetheless have the right kind cell quantity for you, in case we have to get involved . . . all of the voices have been recorded—“School hours,” Conway acknowledged, tapping; “phones need to be switched off in class”—but them all have been the appropriate ones. None of our women had replaced her quantity. Conway stated, “You received a chum at any of the cellular networks? ” “Not but. ” Neither did she, or she wouldn’t have requested. You stockpile invaluable neighbors, construct your self a pleasant fats checklist, over the years. I felt it like a thump: us, beginners, in the course of this. “Sophie does. ” Conway used to be dialing back. “She’ll get us the whole files on that quantity. by means of the top of the day, assured. ” I acknowledged, “It’ll be unregistered. ” “Yeah, it is going to. yet i would like to grasp who else it’s been texting. If Chris was once assembly a person, he prepared it by some means. We by no means figured out how. ” She slid down off the wall, telephone to her ear. “Meanwhile, let’s pass see if Little pass over Text’s fucking us round. ” McKenna got here out of her workplace all able to wave us goodbye, wasn’t a contented camper while she discovered we weren’t good-byeing anyplace.

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