‘THAT GUY WAS a right crackpot, wasn’t he?’ Lynch turned the key in the ignition.
Kate waited while he reversed the car, the tyres getting stuck in the mud, before accelerating forward. Then she said, ‘He’s cut himself off from reality, Mark, but Barry Lyons didn’t spend his adult life working with children not to recognise a strong bond, and the Tarot cards are another concrete link. Whatever partnership was struck up between Alice and Sandra, it was strong, and friendships formed during this critical stage in development are unlike those formed in later life.’
‘The Tarot cards are a link, but so far, Kate, everything we have is circumstantial.’
‘The background story fits – potential abuse, two young girls allowed to roam the forest alone, questionable family structures, each of them in Paris at the time of Pierre Laurent’s murder, no definitive knowledge of their whereabouts when Michele Pinzini was killed, and what we got from Barry Lyons about the Tarot means both girls at least experimented with darker themes. People turn to the occult and the Tarot when other forms of belief fail them.’
‘You’re talking conventional religion?’
‘You saw St Kevin’s Church on the drive to Barry Lyons’s place. It had almost a fairy-tale setting, but in the past, like many similar structures, it was a formidable force in community life. It doesn’t sound to me like the community did very much for either Sandra or Alice.’
‘Let’s call to Billy Meagher, the retired postman, next. His house is closest. We should be there in five minutes.’
Kate opened her holdall and pulled out the case file, flicking through her notes.
‘What are you looking for?’ he asked.
‘It’s something Sandra said about Pierre Laurent’s face. She said it reminded her of her father’s, that he had the same eyes, full of love.’
‘So?’
‘We already know Sandra Connolly never knew her father.’
‘She could have been talking about the grandfather, the surrogate replacement.’
‘Or she could have imagined someone else to be her father, a fantasy figure, an image she clung to when there was little else.’
As they pulled into the centre of town, Lynch’s phone rang. ‘Hold on a second, Kate. I need to take this. It’s the chief super.’
Kate listened to his side of the conversation.
‘Hi, Boss, what’s up? … Yeah, we’re making progress. We’ve spoken to the ex-principal of the national school. He’s confirmed what we got from James Gammon about questionable family set-ups and the two girls being close. It seems they practically reared themselves. We’ve also established a link with the Tarot cards. Dr Pearson thinks it’s important … I don’t think that’s necessary, Boss. I’ve plenty on the team who can take care of that.’
Kate watched Lynch’s expression change from upbeat to defensive, then to annoyance. Whatever the chief super was suggesting, it wasn’t something he favoured.
‘Well?’ she asked, when he finished the call.
He took a deep breath, locking the steering wheel with unnecessary force. ‘He’s bringing O’Connor back in.’
‘How come?’ Kate kept her voice deadpan.
‘The chief super wants him to take over the enquiries into Alice Thompson’s parents and Sandra Regan’s grandparents. He also wants him to find Sandra’s natural mother. He’s of the mind that O’Connor is very good at finding missing needles in haystacks. He’s officially back on the team, but with instructions to keep a low profile.’
Lynch stepped out of the car and slammed the door. Kate decided to let it go, but wondered for the first time, if, perhaps, Mark Lynch might have been the one to leak the story to the press.
I
GOOD OLD EDGAR wants to tell the police. He thinks it’s the best way forward. He wants poor, stupid, pathetic Sandra to get help, to become the woman he fell in love with. If he wasn’t so blind, some might think him loyal. People with tunnel vision are ill-equipped to understand their own reality, let alone someone else’s. I can’t let him go to the police. It would ruin everything.
I don’t despise him, but life is transient, in the same way that photographic images fade over time, becoming fugitives of what went before.
The silence of the studio is soothing, with him off on his little errand. He says he’s doing all this for the best, but do you think that if the police hadn’t ruffled him, he would have kept quiet? I dare say he would. People always do things for a reason. He’s looking for a way to ease the terrible burden he’s carrying. I don’t care any more. Alice brushed me off earlier when I mentioned going back to the woods. I will phone her again, knowing I can make her listen. It’s time for us to talk straight to one another. There will be no more hiding behind lies.
LEACH, COUNTY WICKLOW