Red Ribbons

‘Right.’


‘Something’s turned up. We got a call from a Dr Ebbs at St Michael’s Psychiatric Hospital. He claims one of his patients, an Ellie Brady, thinks our man killed her daughter.’

‘One of his patients?’

‘Yeah, Adele Burlington took the call. It came in on the priority helpline.’

‘You’re kidding me, right?’

‘I don’t kid about murder, Detective.’

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean that … go on.’

‘I remember the case myself, happened fifteen years ago. The murdered girl was the same age as our victims. Different MO though. Filicide by arson’

‘This woman, Ellie Brady, you say she’s a psychiatric patient.’

‘Yeah, and I know what you’re thinking.’

‘What does the doctor say?’

‘Says he’s not sure. She could be making it up, copycat type of thing. Not unusual. But here’s the thing, O’Connor. The killing happened in Wexford, the mother set fire to a holiday caravan, she was dragged out, but the child perished.’

‘Go on.’

‘You know how I love connections. Well, we got a call in from the station in Gorey ten minutes ago. A guy just walked in there, an Oliver Gilmartin, says he knows the possible owner of the Carina. He’s being interviewed now.’

‘The same area as the Brady murder?’

‘Wexford is a big place, but Ellie Brady’s daughter was killed there. I’ll run the plates. Why don’t you and your psychologist friend have a chat with Ellie Brady.’

‘Right, keep me posted.’

‘Will do, and I’ll start the paperwork for pulling that old murder file, just in case.’





Mervin Road


Monday, 10 October 2011, 2.15 p.m.





KATE’S MOBILE PHONE SANG OUT WITH THE ALL-TOO-familiar piano riff ringtone she’d allocated to O’Connor.

‘Kate.’

‘Detective.’

‘We’re taking a trip.’

‘Where?’

‘The northside. I’ll do the driving. I’m on my way to pick you up.’

‘Any chance you could tell me why?’

‘I’ll fill you in on the way. You at home?’

‘Yeah, I’ll be ready.’

Looking out the tiny window of her study, Kate watched a young mother pass by with her baby wrapped snugly in a buggy. At the newsagent’s, two men chatted as a woman in a smart grey suit walked past them. Ordinary people getting on with ordinary lives, a luxury Caroline’s and Amelia’s families no longer had. She thought about Declan, how if there was going to be any hope for them remaining as a family, things would have to change. She tried him one last time. This time he picked up.

‘Declan.’

‘Kate, sorry, I can’t talk now.’

‘That’s okay. When?’

‘I should finish up around five. I can ring you then.’

‘Okay. And, Declan?’

‘What?’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘We’ll talk later. I have to go, Kate.’

Turning to the photographs of the murdered girls on the study wall, Kate thought again about the Tuscan burial site. If Silvia Vaccaro’s death and the killing of the two girls were connected and the flat stone was a place for them to rest their heads, it was another indicator of his affection for his victims. His perceived relationships with Amelia and, more importantly, with Caroline may have been delusional, but to him they felt utterly real. Eighty per cent of female victims know their killer – a frightening statistic. The one thing Kate knew for sure was that whoever the killer was, he knew his next victim in some way and could be watching her right now. They needed to find him before he could make his move.




Kate sat in the passenger seat beside O’Connor, who seemed more hell bent on getting wherever it was they were going than filling her in on the details.

‘I’m waiting, Detective. Where are we heading?’

‘We’re going to see an Ellie Brady. I’ve squared it with her doctor.’

‘Doctor?’

‘Yeah, she’s a patient at St Michael’s, a psychiatric hospital. It’s a lead we got via the public information lines. Ellie Brady’s daughter was killed fifteen years back, a case of filicide. The mother set fire to the caravan with both her and her daughter in it. Ellie survived. According to the doctor, Ellie now claims the person who killed the two girls also murdered her daughter.’

‘I’m not sure I like the sound of this, it’s hardly reliable testimony.’

‘Donoghue thinks there might be something in it, and he has an uncanny knack of being right about these things.’

‘Did you get the image of Silvia from the Italian police?’

‘Not yet. Wait a second, Kate, I need to take this.’ O’Connor answered a call on his hands-free set.

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