‘I’m serious. The photograph you pinned up in the incident room yesterday of the girl and the little boy…’
‘What about it?’ Lottie asked. This wasn’t what she’d expected.
‘It’s that girl you were looking for, isn’t it? The mother of Milot?’
‘How do you know that?’
‘Where did you get the photo?’
‘Dan Russell. Remember I met with him yesterday; he eventually admitted that Mimoza was resident in the centre but that she’d disappeared with her son. There’s something not quite right…’ She stopped, recalling how Boyd had started the conversation. She stood up. ‘Wait a minute. How did you know that photo was of Mimoza? You’ve never met her. Have you?’
Boyd ran trembling fingers through his hair. ‘I think… I think I might have met her. I’m not sure, but—’
‘Jesus, Boyd. Where? Is she okay? When did you see her?’
Boyd’s shoulders slumped and he took out his wallet. From it he extracted a small plastic bag and handed it to her. She sat back beside him and turned it over in her hands.
‘What’s this? Evidence?’
‘It’s a message of some sort. Written on a piece of cloth. I can’t understand the language. You’ll need to get it translated and forensically analysed.’
Lottie stared and waited for more.
He said, ‘The other night, Wednesday I think, I got drunk with Kirby. We ended up at this place over on Hill Point.’
‘What place?’ She had a bad feeling about this.
‘Some sort of… brothel.’
‘For fucks sake, Boyd. You didn’t go in? Did you?’
He nodded.
‘You did?’ The reality hit her like a slap in the face. ‘And Mimoza… she was there?’
‘I didn’t know who she was at the time. Nothing happened… I think… I’m sure. I left.’
‘That’s not the point.’
Lottie struggled to sideline her feelings for Boyd and the fact that he’d visited a whorehouse. Jesus! Mimoza’s well-being was the most important thing now. But Russell had said she was in the DPC, so how could she be in a brothel? Bracing herself to be shocked, she immediately switched into professional mode.
‘Tell me about the girl and how you got this note.’
And Boyd told her.
* * *
Boyd parked the car and led Lottie to the apartment where the brothel was located. Normal life was evident around her. Children on bicycles, squealing. Two women chatting across a yard through open windows. A man with his head under the raised bonnet of a car while a little boy handed him tools from a plastic container. Daily routines continued while evil lurked behind closed doors, she thought, as Boyd climbed the steps of a grimy-looking block of flats.
‘You know I should have brought Lynch or someone else with me besides you. Both of us could end up in deep shit,’ she said as Boyd pressed his finger to the bell. They waited a while but there was no answer.
Lottie put her hand to the door. It creaked inwards. Glancing back over her shoulder at Boyd, she stepped into the hallway.
‘Hello? Anyone home?’ she shouted. Her voice echoed back at her.
‘Lottie…’
‘Shh.’ Putting her finger to her lips, she stepped further into the gloom.
‘There’s no one here,’ Boyd said.
She went into the room at the end of the hall. Empty. Up the stairs, Boyd trailing. They tried each of the doors.
‘No one home, so,’ he said.
Was he relieved? Scowling, she asked, ‘Which room was she in?’
He indicated the open door. ‘I was on the stairs. I didn’t—’
She shook her head. ‘Don’t even try to justify your actions.’
‘I wasn’t going to.’
‘Jesus, how do men come into dingy places like this?’
She pulled on protective gloves. After giving the room a quick check, she lifted back the sheet, tugged it from the end of the mattress. As she shook it out, she noticed the ripped hem.
‘She wrote on a piece of this.’ There was nothing under the bed or in the room to warrant further investigation. ‘I don’t suppose it’s worth getting forensics in here.’
Boyd just shrugged, head drooping. ‘I doubt it. But what spooked them to leave?’
‘You, Boyd. You did. You leaving your wallet behind. God damn it. How are we going to find her now?’
‘I think I know someone who might be able to answer that.’
Lottie somehow followed his train of thought. ‘McNally?’
‘Yes.’
‘He has something to do with this?’
‘I think so. Jackie mentioned he might be involved in human trafficking.’
‘Do you know where he is?’ Lottie edged out past Boyd. The suffocating room was giving her a headache.
Boyd said, ‘I had a run-in with him this morning.’
‘Where? You know we’ve been trying to locate him for a week.’
‘He came to mine looking for Jackie.’
‘She stayed the night? Jesus, Boyd, will you never learn?’
‘It wasn’t like that. She’s scared of him.’
‘A likely story. Where is he staying?’
‘Parkview Hotel. Though Jackie says he hasn’t really been there. He must have somewhere else to hide out.’
‘You had him, Boyd. Why didn’t you arrest him?’
‘For what? He has no outstanding warrants. Instructions were to watch him. Now we know where he’s staying.’
‘He assaulted you, didn’t he?’
‘Yes, but…’
‘Too late now.’ Lottie relented. ‘We’ll check out the hotel. Send the note for analysis and get it translated immediately. We need to find Mimoza and I need to talk to Superintendent Corrigan about her son.’
‘Don’t say anything about—’
‘I’ll say what the situation dictates I need to say.’ Lottie wiped the sweat from her nose and shook her head. ‘You’re a grade-A eejit, Boyd.’ She held her hand palm upward and stepped away as he was about to speak. ‘And don’t even try to blame Kirby.’
Fifty-Six
‘You feckin’ what?’
The tubed light fitting rattled with the force of Superintendent Corrigan’s roar. He stood up, then crashed back down into his chair, a squeal of air escaping from the leather. He looked worse than he’d done all week, despite his day off work. A cotton swab was plastered crookedly across his sore eye behind his spectacles.
‘Things just got ahead of me and I had no time to deal with him.’ Without an invitation to sit, Lottie remained standing, arms folded, trying to make herself look full of a confidence she didn’t feel.
‘You didn’t even make a phone call, let alone fill out a form.’ Corrigan swept his hand over his forehead in despair. ‘You know the shite we had to deal with before with that shower.’
‘I know, sir. That’s one of the reasons why I don’t want Milot going into the system.’
‘You have to go by the book. You can’t give them a reason to crucify us. I’m disappointed in you.’
‘If you’d let me explain—’ she began.
He cut her off with a raised hand. ‘No, Inspector. You leave me no choice.’
Lottie dropped her hands, leaned on his desk.