‘Listen. Have you ever heard of Monk Island?’ Boyd asked.
‘Is Chloe there?’ She jumped up. He gently pushed her down again.
Perched on the edge of her desk, he said, ‘Not unless she’s an Olympic swimmer or can manage a boat. Lynch was looking at the reports of unusual activity around the lakes. There were a few about Monk Island.’
‘Which lake?’
‘Lough Cullion. Anyway, there were complaints about shots being fired outside the shooting season.’
‘Has anyone followed up on this yet?’
‘We were stretched to the limit and it seemed a low priority at the time, so no.’
‘Is someone out there now?’
‘All manpower is assigned to tracing your daughter.’
She thought for a moment. ‘Chloe’s phone! Has her GPS been tracked yet?’ Pulling her desk phone to her, she lifted the receiver.
Boyd stopped her. ‘It’s being done. And we’ll check Monk Island as soon as resources are freed up.’
‘But it needs to be checked now!’
‘We’ll try and find Chloe and Milot first.’
‘Why haven’t I got a transcript from Chloe’s phone? What are they at upstairs?’
‘It takes time.’
‘What about the social worker’s phone? Any trace on the number he was supposed to text when he had Milot?’
‘Tech guys are working on that too.’
‘I need to get out of here. I can’t just sit around.’
She blinked as an email pinged. Glanced at her inbox. ‘I don’t need this now.’
‘What is it?’
‘It’s just a reply to the email I sent last night to Besim Mehmedi.’
‘Who?’
‘The prosecutor of the illegal human organ harvesting case in Pristina about five years ago. I told you about it.’
‘Relevant to our cases?’
‘Could be.’
‘Open it.’
As she clicked the email open, Garda Gillian O’Donoghue put her head around the door.
‘Detective Inspector? Eamon Carter is throwing a wobbly down in the interview room. He’s insisting he needs to send a text message to the guy who forced him to abduct the young boy. He doesn’t believe his mother will be safe unless he does it.’
Lottie looked up at Boyd. ‘What do you think? Draw the bastard out?’
Boyd stood up. ‘Exactly.’
Ignoring the email from the prosecutor in Pristina, she hit the screen-save button.
‘Later,’ she said to the computer.
* * *
The heat in Interview Room One was usually oppressive. This evening it was overwhelming. Perspiration stained Carter’s shirt dark grey between his shoulder blades and under his armpits. Boyd appeared to be cool, but Lottie knew he was as anxious as she was. She had to find Chloe and the boy. And the only way to do this might be by snaring the man in contact with Carter.
She had ripped the phone out of the plastic evidence bag and dictated the message for Carter to put in his own words. No point in spooking the recipient. Now she felt the phone slip around in her hand as she waited for a reply.
A text came in: St Declan’s. Ten minutes. Wait behind gatehouse.
‘Lets go.’ Lottie ran to the door.
‘Doesn’t give us time to get a team together,’ Boyd said.
‘You and me. That’s team enough.’
‘What about me?’ Carter said.
For a moment, Lottie thought about bringing him with them to draw out the kidnappers, but she couldn’t risk his life.
‘Stay here where you can’t get into any more trouble,’ she said over her shoulder.
‘Watch him,’ Boyd told O’Donoghue.
Lottie ran through reception and out the station door. ‘Where’s your car?’
‘Round the back.’
‘Hurry up.’ She streaked around the side of the building.
‘Ten minutes in this traffic. It’s madness.’ Boyd clicked the car unlocked and they jumped in. ‘Blue light and siren?’
‘Yes. No.’ Lottie clasped the dashboard as he swung the car out of the yard at an acute angle. ‘We don’t know where he is. He could be watching us for all we know. Better not to warn him.’
He’d parked his van in the cathedral car park. Right under the noses of the Keystone Cops across the road. He’d lived dangerously all his life. No need to change now.
He pulled off his soft leather shoes and shoved his feet into steel-toe-capped boots. As he was turning the key to start the van, he heard the message vibrating in his phone.
Glancing at the screen, he banged the steering wheel. ‘Yes!’
He read through the text again: Got the kid. What will I do now? Don’t hurt my mum. He thought for a moment before keying in his reply.
As he drove out through the cathedral gates, he glanced over at the garda station. Why were Lottie Parker and her sidekick running so fast?
He wondered about it as he travelled down the street. It gnawed at the back of his brain. Did they know something? Surely not.
His mind ticked over as he thought of ways to manage the situation if they were on to him. He’d been careful, but was there something he’d overlooked? Had Russell blabbed to the cops? He’d said he hadn’t and now he was in no state to answer any questions. Too bad.
He would just have to think on his feet. Like any good surgeon would do.
The traffic wasn’t the problem. It was the fog. Out of nowhere it seemed to drop like a heavy veil over the town. Ensnaring everything in its web. The sun was shrouded out and darkness descended.
‘It’s like the end of the fucking world,’ Boyd said, turning up by the Dublin bridge.
‘Where the hell are Kirby and Lynch?’ Lottie said tensely.
‘Nothing from either.’
Lottie tapped Kirby’s name on her speed dial. ‘Come on, big man, answer.’
‘Boss?’
‘Thank God. Where are you? Any sign of Chloe?’
‘We’ve completed a search of the railway line from the back of your house. Think she climbed up there and walked along the tracks. Haven’t found her yet. Or the little boy.’
‘Why would she go up there?’ Lottie widened her eyes. ‘Why were you up there, for that matter?’
‘Tracked her phone. She’d dropped it just outside the train station.’
‘Whereabouts?’
‘The little footbridge. The one that goes over the canal to Hill Point. We’re searching the area now.’
‘That’s where Petrovci lives.’ Lottie shook her head, trying to insert some logic into the equation. ‘Why was her phone there?’
‘Don’t know. Maybe she was running and it fell out of her pocket. I’ll let you know as soon as. This fog is slowing us down, though.’
‘Lynch with you?’
‘Yes, boss.’
Lottie sighed a long breath. ‘Keep at it.’ She hung up. ‘Keep driving,’ she told Boyd.
‘I can’t see a thing.’
‘Just follow the tail lights of that van in front.’
‘That’s what I’m doing.’
‘Faster, Boyd. Can’t you go faster?’
‘Not unless I grow wings.’