‘She should be on it.’
‘Well, she isn’t. I’ve checked it myself. Do you maintain a list of your own? A list of people here separate from the asylum seekers, for instance?’
‘That’s a preposterous accusation.’
‘You yourself informed me that Mimoza had been here, but her name doesn’t appear on the Department of Justice database. Explain that.’
‘There must be some mistake.’
‘Yes. And you’ve made it, Mr Russell. A big mistake.’
For a moment she thought he looked worried before he recovered his composure.
‘Come up to my office,’ he said, walking away from her.
Lottie debated turning on her heel and getting as far away as possible. Or at least calling for back-up. Common sense disappeared.
At the door to Block A, Russell stopped and turned. Lottie could see him grinning when he noticed she was following him.
‘Mimoza’s in a brothel,’ she blurted, determined to wipe the smile off his face.
Bingo!
‘What are you talking about?’ His face blanched.
‘Right here in Ragmullin,’ she said.
‘I’d no idea. Is that where she is now? Oh, that poor boy. Surely she hasn’t got him with her?’
Chewing on the inside of her lip, Lottie wondered if this was some grand act he was putting on for her benefit. She had a feeling he knew exactly what she was talking about.
‘Are you providing girls to this brothel?’
He fiddled with his keys, unable to meet her gaze. ‘Detective Parker, you do not want to go down that road.’
‘What road?’ she asked crisply. She had no time for games now.
He stepped into her personal space. He was so close, she was sure she could smell what he’d had for breakfast.
‘I’m calling for back-up,’ she said, tapping her phone. ‘I don’t like your threatening tone.’
‘No need. Come in and I’ll see if I can find that file.’ He headed for the door.
Lottie sighed. At last she was getting somewhere. ‘Okay. You’d better be quick, though.’
At the bottom of the stairs, he looked back over his shoulder. ‘And I need to discuss your husband’s antics.’
‘What the—’
‘There is a connection between him and that little whore Mimoza.’ He marched up the stairs.
Lottie stared up after him. What connection? She looked around her wildly. She should leave. Go back to the station. Get reinforcements, backup. Boyd.
Not yet.
She had to know what Russell was talking about.
Fifty-Nine
‘Ah, Jaysus, not you again. Go away.’
Boyd lit his cigarette and tried to sidestep Jackie. She followed him round the back of the station.
‘You shouldn’t be here,’ he said.
‘Look, Marcus, I’m putting my life at risk talking to you.’
He stopped walking. She held onto his arm, her fingers pressing into his skin. Glancing around, he expected to see Rat-Face McNally jumping out at him.
‘I’ve already got one black eye. I don’t need a match for it.’
‘It’s about Maeve Phillips.’
That stopped him. Throwing down his cigarette, he grabbed her by the shoulder. ‘What do you know about her?’
‘Not much. I meant to say it last night, but… you know. I think I drank too much wine.’
‘Go on.’
‘Her father asked Jamie to look for her.’
‘We know that already.’
‘But you don’t know why.’
‘Okay. I’m listening.’
‘Maeve has been kidnapped.’
‘Bollocks, Jackie. Why would I believe you?’
‘I swear it’s the truth. It has something to do with Jamie and Maeve’s dad’s… activities, call it what you like. I overheard him on the phone this morning.’
Boyd thought for a moment.
‘Human trafficking? For sex?’
‘Yeah.’
‘You’re telling me someone has taken Maeve to put her into sex work?’
‘No, you dumb prick. That’s what Frank Phillips and Jamie are up to. But something has gone wrong with their business recently. I don’t know if it’s money or drugs or women. But they have their knickers in a twist over something to do with all the refugees coming into Europe. And I do know that Frank Phillips is extremely worried about his daughter’s whereabouts. He asked Jamie to try and find out where she is.’
‘Why won’t Phillips come here himself?’
‘He’d be arrested. Then he’d be no use to Maeve. He can operate better from Spain. Anyway, Jamie was already in the country. On other business.’
‘What other business?’
‘I don’t know.’
Boyd walked around in circles digesting what Jackie had told him. He knew there was a warrant out on Phillips for a post-office robbery in Dublin about ten years ago. That was when he’d fled to Spain.
‘So Rat-Face McNally is involved in looking for Maeve Phillips.’
‘Don’t call him that.’ She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her bag, lit one for Boyd and one for herself. ‘But I think so. He’s only doing what you’re doing. Going round in circles. You need to speak to Frank.’
‘Chance would be a fine thing. He absconded years ago; I don’t think he’d come back now.’
Jackie said, ‘It’s his daughter. Look Marcus, I accept that you and I are finished, but I can try to organise things for you to find the girl. And then maybe you can help me get away from Jamie.’
Boyd looked at the woman who had once been the love of his life. He had to agree that they were finished for good. But he couldn’t let her swim away with the sharks. Even though she was doing it for selfish reasons, something told him she could be jeopardising her own life by helping him.
‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she said. ‘Let me help you.’
‘Thanks, Jackie.’ Boyd took a long, hard drag on his cigarette. ‘We have a team heading up Maeve’s disappearance. It’s at top priority. So if you can get Frank Phillips to talk to us, it would be a great help. And then you can give us whatever info you have on McNally to get him arrested.’
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’ll let you know if I can get Frank to agree to speak with you. Then I’ll see what I can rake up on Jamie.’ She reached up and kissed his cheek.
Boyd watched her walk away, then raced back inside. He had to tell Lottie about this. Hopefully it would take the scowl off her face. Then he remembered she wasn’t there.
Sixty
The fan was whirring incessantly in Dan Russell’s office.
‘Tell me about Adam,’ Lottie said. She remained standing. ‘How did you come to the conclusion that Mimoza is linked to him?’
Russell eyed her speculatively from behind his desk. ‘Show me the photograph. I know you want me to tell you about it.’
‘I want you to tell me what the hell is going on in my town. Murdered girls, missing girls, stolen girls. You have something to do with it all and I want to know what.’
‘I have nothing to do with it.’
She slammed the photograph on to his desk and sat down. ‘I’ve no time for games. That’s Adam, as you well know. You served with him in Kosovo. It was taken there.’
‘How do you come to that conclusion?’
‘The date in the corner. So don’t lie to me. You were there then. Who are these other people with Adam?’
‘I don’t know.’