‘What way was that?’
‘Curled up like a baby in the womb. But when I looked closer, I realised that wasn’t right either. It was because of her hands, you see. They were closed together, the fingers intermingled.’ Ellie’s eyelids opened wider, holding her stare, and her fingers replicated the way her daughter’s hands had looked. ‘It was as if she was praying. And that was when I realised that she wasn’t sleeping. She was kneeling. When I got closer, I recognised that grey colour of death. The skin on her face was cold, but her body wasn’t, although it was losing its warmth. I knew she was dead.’
Even though Ellie maintained eye contact with Kate throughout, Kate could see O’Connor’s shift in body movements out of the corner of her eye, hearing Ellie’s mention of Amy’s hands joined in prayer, and the positioning of the body. A lot of details were public knowledge, including the plaiting, ribbons and the crucifix, but nothing had been mentioned about how the girls’ bodies or hands were found. O’Connor coughed as if to signal for Kate to continue.
‘What did you do then, Ellie?’
‘I stayed with her until Joe, my husband, woke up. I told him Amy was sleeping. When he left, I went back in to her, spoke to her. I knew what had to be done.’
‘Is that when you set fire to the caravan?’
‘Yes, soon after that. I remember feeling calm. I was content you see, once I’d decided to go with her.’
‘What happened then?’
‘The fire took hold quickly. I remember the caravan filled with black smoke, the heat, the crackle. Then that Gilmartin man saved me.’ Ellie shook her head, as if to pull herself out of her reverie.
‘Oliver Gilmartin?’ O’Connor broke in, remembering the name from Donoghue’s conversation about the Carina.
‘Yes, he was caretaker of the caravan park.’
O’Connor shot a look to Kate, who nodded slightly and continued.
‘You seem very clear on things, Ellie?’
‘After fifteen years, Kate, you can get a lot of clarity.’
‘I can imagine.’
‘Can you? I doubt it. There are some things you have to live through. You might think you can imagine it, but you haven’t walked in my shoes. I hope you never do.’
Kate didn’t reply immediately, taking in Ellie’s last words.
‘Ellie, you told Dr Ebbs you saw a man, a man who you believe killed Amy; can you tell us about him?’
‘He was nothing out of the ordinary. I thought he was one of the fathers of the other kids at the park.’
‘What age, do you think?’
‘My age I guess, or a little older. I only saw him a couple of times.’
‘But you are sure he killed Amy?’
‘Someone killed her, and it wasn’t me. I loved her more than life. I just didn’t show it.’
‘Your copybook, Ellie, may I ask what’s in it?’
‘Things I remembered.’
‘Can DI O’Connor and I take a look at it?’
‘Sure.’
Opening the first page, Kate saw the words ‘Amy’, ‘Dead’ and ‘Wexford’ written in large block letters. On the second page, Ellie’s handwriting changed. It was smaller, joined, slanting to the right, obeying the rules of the page. The first words to catch Kate’s attention were ‘elderberry trees’.
Gorey Garda Station
Monday, 10 October 2011, 3.15 p.m.
‘MR GILMARTIN, COULD YOU STEP BACK IN, PLEASE?’
‘No bother.’
‘Mr Hughes tells me you might know the girl in the photograph.’
‘A lot of people would know her, at least those here at the time would remember her. It happened a long time ago, can’t see how it’s important now.’
‘You said nothing earlier.’
‘Nothing to say. Steve found the photograph, figured he was the one with the information.’
‘But you think she’s the girl killed at Beachfield?’
‘It looks like her. I can’t be sure, though, but there’s a resemblance all right. The mother was a right lunatic.’
Murray gave him a look, as if to remind Ollie he hadn’t forgotten about their last poaching conversation.
‘I don’t want either of you two clowns going anywhere. Do you hear me?’
Both of them nodded in response.
Ollie thought about telling Murray about the day he found Alison Cronly down on the beach, but decided to play it careful. If he wasn’t sure what to say, saying nothing was a whole lot better than doing anything else.
St Michael’s Psychiatric Hospital
Monday, 10 October 2011, 3.30 p.m.
O’CONNOR WAS THE FIRST TO STAND UP AND SHAKE Ellie’s hand and then Dr Ebbs’. Kate did the same, only in reverse. Ellie’s hand lingered in her grasp a little longer.
‘Goodbye, Ellie,’ Kate said softly, ‘and thank you.’