‘Sean? That’s great. Though I wish I knew what’s bugging Chloe.’
‘Have you time to cook something for dinner? Granny hasn’t appeared today and he won’t let me out of his sight.’ Katie hugged the boy.
‘Maybe chips?’ Lottie said. ‘You like chips, Milot?’
The little boy stared up at her, his wide eyes soft with unshed tears. Missing his mummy. God, she thought, where would he end up once he was taken into care? She hoped he’d at least be safe from the likes of Dan Russell.
‘Where are Sean and Chloe now?’ she asked.
Katie glanced towards the ceiling.
‘Be back in a min.’ Lottie flew upstairs to check on them.
Sean’s headphones blotted out her query about what he wanted for dinner, so she made for Chloe’s room. The door was locked.
‘Chloe, let me in.’
‘Go away.’
Leaning against the wood, Lottie tried again. ‘Please, Chloe. Open the door.’
‘I’m studying. Talk to you later.’
With a heavy sigh, Lottie gave up and headed for the shower. Even though it was warm out, she was shivering since the soaking she’d got at the pump house. Tiredness chewed through her bones. Eventually the water eased her flesh. She pulled on clean clothes and felt ready for the social worker.
Entering the kitchen, she noticed a trail of dried blood leading to the back door. It appeared streaked, as if someone had unsuccessfully tried to clean it up.
‘Chloe! Katie! What happened in here?’ she yelled.
A door opened upstairs and Chloe ran down to the kitchen. ‘I let a glass fall and stepped into it.’
‘Are you okay? Let me have a look.’
‘No! Go away.’ Chloe held out a hand, backing away.
‘What’s going on with you? Is it the exams?’ Lottie asked.
‘What exams?’
‘Don’t be smart with me, missy.’
‘I’m trying to study, and the minute you come home it’s a row,’ Chloe snapped. ‘Always the same.’ She glanced into the refrigerator, but finding nothing she liked, slammed it shut and turned towards the hall.
Lottie caught her by the arm. ‘Don’t talk to me like that.’
‘Whatever.’ Chloe wriggled out of her grasp and fled up the stairs.
Standing with her mouth open, Lottie caught sight of Milot at the sitting room door, choking away sobs, tears flowing down his cheeks.
Before she could comfort him, the doorbell rang.
* * *
The man on the doorstep looked too young to be a social worker. That was Lottie’s first impression. Too young to be dealing with all this shit.
He showed his ID and she welcomed him in, apologising for the mess. Katie had picked up Milot before Lottie opened the door, and was comforting him in the sitting room.
He introduced himself as Eamon Carter and sat at the kitchen table. His blonde hair was neatly trimmed around small ears. Lottie thought the stubble on his chin was by design, like the skinny black trousers he wore.
‘Tea?’
‘A glass of water would be good,’ he said in a sharp Dublin accent. ‘It’s sweltering out there again.’
She let the tap run until the water was cold.
‘In the job long?’ she asked.
‘A couple of months,’ he replied.
Not long enough to have got used to the harshness of the work he was embarking on. Such an inexperienced young man to be tasked with the difficult case of Milot. She silently wished him luck.
‘Now, about Milot,’ he began and opened a file with a solitary page. ‘He turned up on your doorstep and you have no idea where his family might be. Do you know them?’
‘His mother initially called with him last Monday morning. She had a query for me to sort. I had never met her before and I haven’t seen her since. Her name is Mimoza Barbatovci, and I believe she’s resident in the direct provision centre in town.’
‘And you’ve tried—’
‘Yes, I’ve made enquiries. She seems to have disappeared.’ Suddenly Lottie thought of the toy rabbit found beside their third victim. Once she handed Milot over, the killer could easily find out his whereabouts. She couldn’t risk his life. ‘Eamon, it’s Saturday and it must be hard to find places for very young children at the best of times. Why don’t you leave the boy here, for the weekend at least? Give yourself time to find him a proper placement and me time to locate his mother.’
He rubbed a hand over his mouth and down his chin. Thinking.
‘Can I see the child?’
‘Sure.’
Lottie went to get Milot. When she returned, Eamon was scribbling notes in the file.
He looked up. ‘Hello, little man.’ The boy snuggled his head into Lottie’s shoulder. Carter continued, ‘He seems comfortable here. Where would you get the time to look after him?’
Katie walked into the kitchen. ‘I’ll help out.’ She flashed a wide grin. Carter blushed.
Lottie mouthed a thank-you to her daughter.
Carter fiddled with his phone and dialled a number. He waited impatiently, tapping his pen on the table. ‘No one answering.’
‘What are you going to do? Milot is perfectly safe here.’ I hope, Lottie thought.
‘This is against all my training but I think I’ll make an… an executive decision.’ He drank the remainder of his water. Lottie held her breath. ‘You can keep him here until Monday. If his mother hasn’t turned up by then, I’ll have to place him with a registered carer or in a foster home. I’ll work on it over the weekend.’
Katie ran forward and whipped Milot from Lottie’s arms. ‘Did you hear that, Milot? You can stay a little bit longer.’ The little boy smiled, as if he understood.
Eamon stood and Lottie shook his hand.
‘Thank you. I honestly don’t want that little boy transferring from one system into another. I’ll do my best to find his mother.’
‘Please do. It’ll make my job a whole lot easier.’ At the front door he added, ‘What’s with the blood on the floor in there?’
‘Just cut my hand on a glass,’ Lottie said, crossing her fingers behind her back for the lie.
He frowned, nodded and left.
‘Thank God,’ Lottie said. But she wondered if he had scribbled it in his notes.
Sixty-Five
‘So Mr Petrovci. Our good doctor says you’re okay to speak with us. Do you want a solicitor?’ Boyd sat down beside Lynch in front of Andri Petrovci in the interview room.
‘No, sir,’ Petrovci said, twisting his hands together.
‘You have now been present at three sites where the bodies of young women have been discovered. What do you say to that?’
‘I not kill them.’
‘What was that phrase you shouted out earlier? Ju lutem?’ Boyd asked.
Petrovci hung his head.
‘Speak up for the tape,’ Lynch ordered.
‘Please, it mean please.’
Boyd glanced a warning at Lynch. ‘Are you going to tell me about this latest girl you found? Do you know her?’
Petrovci shook his head.
‘I not know her. I go now?’
Lynch said, ‘Do you have an alibi for every night last week?’
‘At my home. Most nights.’
‘Can anyone verify that?’ Boyd asked, then, noting the confusion on Petrovci’s face, added, ‘Do you live with anyone who can say that’s where you were every night?’
‘I live alone.’