‘I rang the HSE records office, pulled in a few favours. They’ve emailed me the relevant pages. From what I can see, Carrie King was incarcerated in that hellhole in the sixties until she was nineteen and on two other occasions in the seventies. I’ve also traced that she lived in the cottage that was burned down the other day.’
‘Let me get this straight,’ Boyd said. ‘Kitty Belfield was Carrie’s mother. So did Tessa help cover up Carrie’s indiscretions? If so, she was paid in land by the Belfields. Kitty did say land was currency.’
‘And Marian Russell’s mother was Carrie and Mick O’Dowd was her father.’
‘Therefore O’Dowd was Emma’s grandfather,’ Boyd said.
‘That’s the way it looks,’ Kirby said.
‘But signing over all their land in payment?’ Boyd scratched his head. ‘What exactly did Tessa have to do?’
‘Look at the two entries I’ve highlighted in the St Declan’s records.’
Boyd flipped over the page. ‘Carrie was signed into St Declan’s in 1973 by Tessa Ball and… Jesus, Kirby!’
‘I know. The town sergeant. Lottie’s dad, Peter Fitzpatrick. Read on.’
‘Signed out by Peter Fitzpatrick and Kitty Belfield. Okay, so she spent a couple of months inside that time.’
‘Yes. Having already spent most of her childhood there. Now read on.’
‘Another order was signed by Tessa Ball in November 1974 and Carrie was sectioned again. No record of a release date. Why?’
‘She tried to burn down the cottage with her twins inside,’ Kirby said.
‘Jesus, Kirby, this isn’t straightforward at all.’ Boyd marched around the office, pulling at his chin. ‘Last night we found an old file in Moroney’s house. The name on the cover was Peter Fitzpatrick. Maybe it relates to the incarceration of Carrie King. Carrie gave birth to Marian. And now you say she also had twins. What happened to them?’
Kirby checked his notes. ‘I don’t know. I’ve just had a chat with my old friend Buzz Flynn and he told me they were born about a year after she was released from St Declan’s the first time.’
Boyd shook his head. ‘This is a bit of a minefield, isn’t it?’
‘Yup.’
‘I think the Belfields, because they were well off, thought they were above placing Carrie in a mother-and-baby home.’
‘And the asylum was the lesser of two evils?’
‘Seems that way. They were prepared to shed their wealth to keep their family lunacy hidden.’
‘But why?’ Kirby said.
‘This was the early seventies. Things were different then. Rich families didn’t like to have their dirty linen washed in public.’
‘So they locked away their shame in the asylum.’
‘Did Kitty have just the one child? Carrie.’
‘Nope,’ Kirby said, and waved another page. ‘After she married Stan, she had another daughter—’
The door pushed open and McMahon rushed in. ‘Brady’s been talking.’
‘We’re in the middle of sorting this mystery out,’ Boyd said, without raising his head.
‘Yes, but you’re going to want to hear this. I know who killed Tessa Ball and abducted Marian Russell.’ McMahon shoved his hands into his pockets and stuck out his chest.
‘Lorcan Brady and Jerome Quinn?’
‘They killed no one. They were paid to abduct the two women. But the person who was bankrolling them, that’s who did the killing.’
‘Go on then, tell us,’ Boyd said.
‘You’re not going to believe it…’
Ninety-Five
With cans stacked behind her and the hose strategically near her hand, Lottie resumed the position she had been left in by her abductor. She didn’t have long to wait.
The screech of a bolt being shot back and the door at the top of the staircase opening caused the hairs on her arms to stand to attention. She was in pain, but ready. Shielding her eyes from the light, she made out the silhouette of a slight figure coming down the stairs.
‘Natasha.’
‘Don’t say anything. Just be quiet and you won’t get hurt.’
Lottie laughed. She couldn’t help it.
‘Natasha, how are you involved in this?’
‘I’m bringing you some food, so shut up and eat. You don’t want her coming down. She’s in a bad mood and that’s not good.’ She placed a tray on the ground, four feet from where Lottie sat.
Without a glance at the food, Lottie stood up and gingerly took a step towards the girl. She was dressed in black Converses, jeans and long-sleeved T-shirt. Her hair was tied back and she looked younger than her seventeen years.
‘What do you want with me? Why have you brought me here?’ Another step forward. The girl retreated up the stairs.
‘You couldn’t leave us alone! If you’d stayed away, we could’ve left without any fuss. But you had to come around upsetting my mum. Now she says she’s staying until the end. I hate you.’
Before Lottie could utter another word, Natasha had slipped through the door and snapped the bolt shut.
Kneeling down to the tray of toast and tea, Lottie tried to assimilate everything that had happened in the last week. How did Bernie Kelly fit into the equation? At the back of her mind she’d always felt that something was off with Bernie and her daughter. But events had occurred so quickly, she hadn’t explored the possibility of Bernie’s involvement. Now she had to figure it out. Her life depended on it.
If Bernie Kelly was behind the murders of Tessa, Marian and Emma, then Lottie knew exactly what the woman was capable of.
* * *
She must have fallen asleep after the tea and toast, because she awoke with a jolt. Bernie Kelly was sitting on the bottom step, tapping a long knife against her thigh. The door above her was open, light streaming in.
‘Sleeping Beauty awakes,’ she snarled. ‘Though I don’t see much beauty.’
‘What do you want? Why did you abduct me?’ Lottie scrambled her thoughts and tried to sit up straight.
‘I followed you to Moroney’s house. Saw you leave with that file.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Lottie said. ‘Where am I?’
‘In the cellar of what should be my rightful inheritance.’
‘What?’
‘You didn’t read the story in the file, did you?’
‘I had no time to read it. You attacked me.’
‘Yes, me and my sweet girl. Strong, aren’t we?’
‘You’re insane.’
Bernie Kelly laughed. ‘I wasn’t always insane, you know. But when that greedy bitch Tessa Ball had me locked away with my mother in the asylum, I was condemned to a life of madness. If you can’t beat them, join them. You ever hear that saying?’
‘I did, but I think you know exactly what you are doing, Bernie. And this is wrong. I’m a detective inspector. You need to let me go. We can work this out.’
Another laugh, louder, more demonic. The woman stood up, the light behind shrouding her. She looked like the devil rising up from the flames of hell.
Lottie eased back against the arsenal she’d built up. She couldn’t let Bernie see it. It might be her only hope of getting out alive.
‘This is Kitty’s house, isn’t it?’ she said.
‘Ah, so you are a detective. How did you figure that out?’
‘It’s either O’Dowd’s or Belfield’s, and I can’t smell cow shite, so…’
‘Your deduction skills are a little primitive. You didn’t figure me out, did you? You or your team. Incompetence.’
‘What did you do with Kitty Belfield?’
‘My grandmother?’
‘What?’
‘You heard me.’
‘Kitty Belfield is your grandmother?’
‘Was is the correct grammar. The old witch.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘I’ll enlighten you, shall I?’
As long as she kept Bernie talking, Lottie thought she might get a chance to use her makeshift ammunition. Boyd and the team had better have got their act together. But how would they figure it out in time? She would just have to trust them, she told herself.
‘I hope you didn’t harm the old lady,’ she said.
‘Lady? Don’t make me laugh.’ Bernie sniggered. ‘Now see what you made me do!’
‘Tell me your story. I want to know what happened to you.’
‘I’m not sure I want to tell you anything,’ Bernie said, wrinkling her nose. She wandered towards the old washing machine. ‘I’m fascinated by this. It’s so small. Not like the ones I had to work with in the madhouse.’
‘What do you mean?’