She studied him closely. He was lying.
He pushed the photo back toward her. ‘Don’t concern yourself with it.’
‘The woman is pregnant,’ she said. ‘That young girl looks pregnant too. And the toddler seems terrified. I want to know more about them.’
Russell pushed back his chair and stood with a sigh.
‘Those were bad times in Kosovo. Despicable times. Atrocities were committed. Genocide… ethnic cleansing took many forms. Not just murder. Systematic rape. I don’t know, but I’d guess that woman was a victim of rape and maybe Adam was helping the family, or…’
‘Or what?’
‘Or he might have been the perpetrator.’
Lottie jumped up, knocking over her chair. She stared at him. Was this the lie he’d been threatening to expose? She snatched up the photograph. ‘How dare you!’
He moved around the desk and stood with his face inches from hers.
‘You don’t know what that country was like. I’m warning you, if you keep trying to drag me into your outrageous investigations, I will not hesitate to expose what your precious husband was up to.’
‘You’re bluffing.’
‘Don’t push me. A rumour can gather legs, you know. You find Mimoza and her son, and no one has to know about Adam Parker.’
‘You’re a liar and a bastard, Russell. An out-and-out bastard.’
‘I’ve been called worse.’
‘And why do you want Mimoza found so badly? You wouldn’t even acknowledge her existence a few days ago.’
He hesitated. ‘My company runs this facility. I can’t be seen to be negligent or I’ll lose the contract.’
‘That’s bullshit and you know it.’
‘I know my business.’
‘Really? You lost a girl and her son.’ Lottie wasn’t buying his excuses. Her brain whirred, trying to find an airtight reason to arrest him. Shit, she should have brought Boyd with her. ‘She has a friend. A small, black girl. I want to speak with her. Now.’
She watched as Russell’s face paled before he quickly regained his deadpan look.
‘I don’t know anything about her,’ he said.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll find her.’ Lottie thought for a moment. ‘What did Adam do that I’m supposed to be so afraid of?’
‘If I tell you now, I think it will complicate matters.’
Making her decision based on nothing other than rage, Lottie took the envelope out of her bag and waved the canvas badge.
‘Mimoza brought me this. I believe it was Adam’s name tag.’
‘How? Where? The little bitch.’
Russell made to grab it, but Lottie stepped back, clutching the badge tightly.
‘Little bitch? Come on!’ she said. ‘I’ve two unidentified murder victims. Were they living here with Mimoza and Milot?’
‘Of course not.’
Thinking about the murdered girls, Lottie recalled the articles she’d read online. ‘Organ trafficking was rampant in Kosovo during and after the war. The two victims were missing kidneys. You were in Kosovo. Now you’re here.’ She paused. Her thoughts were beginning to line up cohesively. At last. ‘Shit, Russell. Just what the hell are you mixed up in?’
‘You need to find Mimoza’s son. That photo you have of Adam – I think Mimoza is the girl in it.’
Lottie shook her head in confusion. All reasonable thoughts splintered as Russell pointed to the photograph she held in her hand. She looked down at it. The girl who appeared pregnant had eyes similar to Mimoza; even the older woman had the same eyes.
She said, ‘But she is aged—’
‘I’d say about nineteen now.’
‘She couldn’t be this girl. The age is all wrong.’
‘Not her,’ Russell said.
He took the photograph from her. Laid it down on the desk. With his index finger he picked out the little girl sitting on the floor beside the two small boys.
‘There. That’s Mimoza. If you find her, I won’t release the information I might have about your husband.’
‘I don’t understand.’ Lottie frowned at the photograph. ‘So this older woman is Mimoza’s mother? Why is my husband in this picture? What happened to this family? And why is Mimoza here in Ragmullin now?’
‘What do you think your husband was up to in Kosovo? You need to think long and hard before you start hurling accusations at me about illegal organ harvesting and trafficking.’
Lottie whipped up the photograph and ran to the door.
‘You can threaten me all you like, Russell. I’ll be back with that warrant.’
Sixty-One
The sun, burning through what was left of the ozone layer, reddened Lottie’s skin. Ignoring the heat, she strode quickly, phone clasped to her ear, trying to make sense of Boyd’s rambling while internally churning up after her encounter with Russell.
‘Slow down, Boyd. Where are you?’
‘Waiting for you. Lynch and Kirby went on ahead. Uniforms have the scene cordoned off.’
‘What scene?’
‘Have you been listening at all? There’s another body.’
‘Fuck. Who discovered it this time?’ Lottie ran across the canal footbridge and up over the railway bridge. She could see him up ahead, walking in circles outside the station. She kept running.
‘I don’t know yet. Call just came in.’
Out of breath, she reached him. ‘It has to be Petrovci.’
She was still talking into her phone. Boyd took it out of her hand, pressed the disconnect button and slid it into her shoulder bag.
‘Calm down,’ he said.
‘How many times have I been told that in the last few days? Each time it just makes me certifiably insane.’ She kept pace with him as they hurried past the cathedral and down the street. ‘Why are we walking?’
‘Town is mental. Roadworks everywhere fucking with the traffic. We’re quicker walking.’ He lit a cigarette.
‘I’ll have one,’ Lottie said.
He handed over his. ‘What had Russell to say for himself?’ He lit another cigarette.
‘I’ll tell you later.’
‘Tell me now.’
‘Later, Boyd. Later.’ She could hardly get her own head around Russell’s revelation, let alone try to explain it to someone else.
They reached the end of the street and took a left turn towards Chloe’s school. Lottie hoped her daughter was studying hard for her exams. She understood the pressure the girl was under – at least she thought she did – so she didn’t keep on about it. She trusted her. Maybe not as much as she had five months ago, though. Chloe had changed. Another thing to deal with. But first she had a body to see.
‘Thank God there are no schoolchildren around. But why are the contractors working up here? Jesus, Boyd, they’re all over the town. I thought we had eyes on all the work sites.’
Traffic was clogged both ways. Horns blaring. Drivers shouting abuse, with no idea that another poor soul had been taken from their midst. They’d probably still shout even if they knew, she thought.