‘But what about the fire?’
‘What about it?’ I lessen the anger in my voice, tired of the same old questions.
‘Well it would seem to me to be extremely important.’
‘The fire meant nothing.’
‘Nothing?’
‘Nothing.’
‘It says here,’ he flicks through the pages, ‘that when they took you in for questioning, you displayed no outward signs of either upset or regret. An unusual response from a mother who says she has always felt remorse.’
‘I told you the fire meant nothing.’
‘But your daughter died in the fire.’
I want to explode. ‘She was dead before the fire. Listen, I’ve said all of this before. You don’t believe me, the others didn’t believe me, so why don’t we just drop it. I’m sure you have more pressing things to do.’
‘You’re talking about the mystery man you saw with Amy?’
‘Yes.’ I want to leave, I’m sick of playing this game. My thoughts drift inwards. He interrupts again.
‘The man no one else remembers?’
I’ve spent so long inside my own head, if I try hard enough I can shut his words out completely. I’m not bothered by any of them. What I remember is that summer: the light winds scattering grains of sand, families chattering, children running in swimming suits, towels across their shoulders, wet hair mangled, queuing up for ice-cream cones. I can still hear the music from the carousel, over and over, above the noise of slot machines, and in the middle of it all I remember him. He looked out of place, as if somewhere deep inside, some warning stirred.
‘Ellie, are you listening to me? We were talking about the man.’
‘Do I need to go over it all again? It didn’t matter then, it’s hardly going to matter now.’
‘But you’ve just admitted, by your own words, that you killed your daughter, not to mention the statement in your file.’
‘Oh, yes, the file – everything is in the file.’
‘It’s not that I want to labour the point, Ellie, but part of moving forward is accepting the truth. What you say doesn’t add up.’
‘Not neat enough, you mean.’
‘Things are seldom neat. That much I certainly do understand.’
‘Well if you understand so much, Dr Ebbs, why do you waste your time with me? I am what I am, and for the most part, that does me just fine.’
‘You say you killed your daughter, you’ve signed a statement saying the same thing, yet you still talk about this mystery man.’
‘I’m not talking about him, you are.’
‘The report in the file says the fire killed Amy.’
‘The report in the file?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well that’s just dandy so.’
‘Ellie, you’re not helping.’
‘I thought that was your job.’
‘Okay, let’s start over. If Amy was dead before the fire, how come you said – and in fact still say now – that you killed her?’
‘I did kill her.’
I can tell he’s agitated, not angry agitated, more confused. I don’t blame him.
‘How?’
‘How what?’
‘How did you kill her, if not by the fire?’
‘I killed my daughter, Dr Ebbs, when I stopped being her mother.’
Incident Room, Tallaght Garda Station
Saturday, 8 October 2011, 5.00 p.m.
O’CONNOR REACHED TALLAGHT GARDA STATION AT exactly five o’clock, just as the early evening news came on his car radio.
The Garda Press Office has just released a statement. A second young girl, Amelia Spain, who was reported missing by her parents late last night, has been found dead. State pathologist Donal Morrison is currently carrying out a postmortem at Tallaght Hospital. The area in the Dublin Mountains where the thirteen-year-old was found is some distance from the site of the burial of Caroline Devine, who was found early Friday morning, although police believe both deaths could be connected. Chief Superintendent Brian Nolan has asked the public to remain calm, saying they are doing everything in their power to track down those responsible. Any information the public may have to help with inquiries can be given through the designated helplines or directly to Tallaght Garda Station, where the main Incident Room has been set up.
‘Shit, shit and more shit.’ O’Connor knew that whatever about asking the public to remain calm, that was one thing Nolan was not going to be. He was going to be dragged over hot coals, there was no two ways about it. He needed a cigarette before going in. He lit up, sucking the nicotine in hard and quickly, without pleasure, before finally stumping it out and heading reluctantly inside.
The Incident Room was even more packed than the last time – after the discovery of Amelia Spain’s body, the guys from Crumlin were now involved. At the top table, Nolan looked like a man who was ready to commit murder himself and Donoghue, seated to his right, looked equally as pissed off.