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By Tana French
“An totally captivating learn. . . . Tana French is just this: a really nice writer.” —Gillian Flynn
Detective Stephen Moran has been expecting his likelihood to affix Dublin’s homicide Squad whilst sixteen-year-old Holly Mackey arrives in his workplace with a photograph of a favored boy whose physique used to be stumbled on at a ladies’ boarding university a yr past. The picture were published at “The mystery Place,” the school’s nameless gossip board, and the caption says “I understand 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 team of associates, to their rival clique, and to the tangle of relationships that sure all of them to the murdered boy, the non-public underworld of juvenile women seems to be extra mysterious and extra harmful than the detectives imagined.
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Additional resources for The Secret Place: A Novel
A breakup could clarify why the 2 gangs hate one another, yeah, yet you can’t inform me we wouldn’t have gotten even one trace from someplace. Gossip, or Joanne giving it a great deal of ‘So-and-so’s a huge dyke, she attempted to leap my attractive body,’ attempting to get the ex in shite. Nah. ” I stated, “—or else somebody simply texted me off Chris Harper’s mystery cell. ” A second of silence. Conway acknowledged, “Looks love it. ” whatever in her voice, yet I couldn’t inform no matter if it was once pleasure or anger, or smelling blood. no matter if there has been a distinction, for her. The day had replaced back, shifted below our eyes into whatever new. We weren’t trying to find a witness, in that roomful of shining hair and stressed ft and observing eyes. We have been searching for a killer. “The method I see it,” I stated, “there’s 3 ways that could’ve occurred. One: Joanne killed Chris, took his cell, she used it to textual content us concerning the key simply because she desires to get caught—” Conway snorted. “She does in her arse. ” “Yeah, me neither. : the killer—Joanne or an individual else—took the telephone, passed it directly to another individual. ” “The comparable manner Joanne offered her personal to Alison. That’d healthy her. ” “Three,” I stated. “Someone else killed Chris, took the telephone, has it nonetheless. ” Conway begun pacing back, yet regular this time, none of that stressed searching for anything to break. She used to be focusing. “Why, yet? She has to grasp the phone’s facts. putting directly to it really is risky. Why now not bin it, a 12 months in the past? ” “Dunno. however it mightn’t be the particular mobilephone she saved. She might’ve ditched the telephone, simply held on to the SIM card. That’s much more secure. Then this day, she wishes an nameless quantity to textual content us from, swaps Chris’s SIM into her personal cellphone . . . ” “Why hold directly to any of it? ” I stated, “Say it’s thought , the killer handed it directly to another individual. might be the opposite lady had a sense there has been anything dodgy approximately it, anything to do with Chris; she held on to the telephone, or simply the SIM card, in case she ever felt like turning it in to us. or perhaps she didn’t cop there has been a connection, simply loved the assumption of getting an nameless quantity stashed away. or perhaps it simply had credits left on it, just like the one Joanne bought Alison. ” Conway nodded. “OK. That’ll paintings with thought . I don’t see the way it works with One or 3. this means that the woman who texted you isn’t the killer. ” I acknowledged, “That says the killer’s received lots of nerve. Handing Chris’s telephone off to another person, rather than binning it, while it could possibly placed her in detention center. ” “Plenty of nerve, lots of vanity, lots of silly, take your choose. Or she didn’t hand it off on function; she ditched it someplace, the texter came across it. ” Voices, seeping down the hall with the chicken-and-mushroom scent: the fourth-years conversing over their dinner. no longer chuffed girly chitchat. This used to be a low, flattened-out buzz, received into your ear and became you edgy. I acknowledged, “Did Sophie say while we’ll get the documents off it? ” “Soon. Her contact’s engaged on it. I’ll e mail her now, inform her we want the particular texts, not only the numbers.