‘Choice? What choice does that little boy have? What choice does his mother have, wherever she is? What choice do those unwanted souls in the DPC have? Don’t talk to me about choice. Don’t. Sir.’
Stopping to catch her breath, it struck her with alarming clarity what she’d done. Bawled out her superior officer in his own office. He looked at her coldly, the silence seeming to last an eternity.
‘Inspector,’ he said at last, his voice way too soft. She was in deep shit. ‘Inspector Parker,’ he repeated, ‘I don’t take kindly to being spoken to like that. You have some nerve. I honestly don’t know what to do with you. While I’m making up my mind, contact that feckin’ agency and get a social worker to the child. Find his mother. And don’t ever, ever speak to me like that again. Do you hear?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘And put a uniformed officer on every site those contractors are working on. I don’t want to give this killer any opportunity to bury another body.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘We need to find the bastard before he kills anyone else.’
‘Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.’ Lottie turned to leave.
‘Don’t thank me. This is your very last chance. Feck up again and don’t even wait for me to suspend you. Take it as given.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Reaching her office, Lottie spotted Maria Lynch hard at work.
‘Lynch, can you get me the Child and Family Agency on the phone. I need to speak to a social worker.’
* * *
The incident room was buzzing as Lottie entered. The agency had told her that a social worker, Eamon Carter, would call to her home. She had succeeded in putting him off until late afternoon.
‘First things first,’ she said. ‘Superintendent Corrigan wants uniforms active on every site the contractors are working on. I’m not sure we can spare the personnel, but he’s not in the mood to be disobeyed.’
She pinned up a photocopy of Mimoza’s note from Boyd’s wallet. It might only be a cry for help, but maybe it could tell her something more. The cloth had been dispatched for forensic analysis. She looked up as Kirby sauntered in, swigging from a bottle of Coca-Cola.
‘The stud has at last decided to grace us with his presence,’ she mocked.
Kirby, with the bottle halfway between his lips and his belly, stood with his mouth open.
She saw Boyd shake his head. Taking the hint, Kirby went to answer the nearest ringing phone.
‘When you finish that call, I want to see the two of you in my office,’ Lottie said. ‘I mean our office. And the rest of you better find something concrete before this day is out. I want a warrant to search the DPC. And go back over all the door-to-door reports; read interview transcripts; cross-reference everything we have; check all the CCTV cameras that work in this godforsaken town. Find out who owns that van and how it came to be in Weir’s yard. Someone is missing those girls. Someone somewhere saw something, even if they don’t remember seeing it.’
Pausing for no more than a single breath, she pointed to Garda Gillian O’Donoghue. ‘You, talk to every retailer with rear business entrances onto Columb Street again. That body didn’t get buried by itself. And you’ – she singled out another uniformed garda – ‘re-interview everyone who lives on Bridge Street where the first victim was buried. Same thing applies. Someone saw something. This is no invisible killer, though I swear to God it feels like it.’
A phone chirped away unanswered in the silence. ‘And someone answer that phone. Am I working with a crowd of children? Am I?’
‘No, Inspector,’ came the collective answer.
‘Well you better prove it to me. If my arse is on the line, you can be damn sure all of yours are too.’
Feeling her face burning and her heart thumping double beats, she slammed out of the room and marched down the corridor with Boyd and Kirby close behind.
* * *
‘Detective Lynch, I need a moment alone with these two,’ Lottie said. ‘And I want that note translated.’
‘Who will I—’
‘I don’t care who you get, just get it done.’
Lynch picked up a stack of files and left with a shake of her head.
Turning to face her other two detectives, Lottie paused, allowing them to sweat a little more. Condensation slid down the bottle in Kirby’s hands. He placed it on the nearest desk. Boyd’s. She heard Boyd sigh; watched him lift it up and wipe away the ring of damp with his fingers. He threw the bottle into the bin.
‘Sit,’ Lottie said.
They did.
Walking around the cramped office, she said, ‘I’m disappointed in the two of you. Visiting a brothel is unacceptable behaviour for men in your position. I’m sure you don’t need me to remind you of ethics, codes of conduct, et cetera, et cetera.’ Jesus, she thought, I’m not a great one to be lecturing on conduct.
Kirby’s eyes bulged towards Boyd. Of course Boyd hadn’t had time to warn him. Lottie pounced.
‘Brothel? Mean anything to you, Detective Kirby? Hill Point brothel in particular.’
She had expected his rotund cheeks to flush with embarrassment, but they drained of all colour.
‘And don’t even attempt to deny it.’
Kirby slapped around his breast pocket, searching for a cigar.
‘As you appear to have been well acquainted with this house of ill repute, tell me who ran it and where the fuck they are now.’
‘I… I… I’ve no idea,’ Kirby mumbled.
‘Oh but you have. Anya. Isn’t that the name of the lady of the house? Detective Sergeant Boyd filled me in on what he knows. I’m waiting to hear what you know.’
Shaking his head of bushy hair, Kirby appeared to be arguing with himself, without looking in Boyd’s direction. Eventually he spoke.
‘I just knew her as Anya. I’d only been there once before… before the other night. She’s Albanian, I think. Had four girls working for her. I got the same one the twice I visited. So there might not be a big turnover of… women.’
With her stomach somersaulting, Lottie looked away from him. How could this grown man, a law-abiding citizen, an enforcer of the law, engage in such activity?
‘You have a long way to climb to get back in my good books, Kirby. A long, long way. Do you know if Jamie McNally is involved?’
‘McNally? No, never heard him mentioned in relation to it.’
‘Well, you can start by finding out everything about this Anya. Who she worked for. Who supplied her girls. Where she is now. And McNally’s role. Got it?’
‘But that’s a job for either the anti-human trafficking team or the immigration bureau,’ Kirby spluttered.
‘If I bring them in, I’ll have to land you and Boyd right in the middle of it all. Do you want that?’
‘No, Inspector, but—’
‘No buts in my vocabulary. Get to it. Now!’
‘With all due respect, boss, what has this got to do with the murders?’
Lottie breathed in deeply and exhaled long and loud. ‘For all we know, it could have everything to do with the murders. Boyd, you saw Mimoza in the brothel. Right?’
‘I’m almost sure it was her,’ he said quietly.
‘Mimoza communicated with me via a letter. She left you a note. She can’t speak our language so it’s her only way of communicating. I’m sure she’s the key to the two murdered girls.’