‘Not yet. I only heard about this last night.’
McMahon stepped forward. ‘There’s no point in flying off on a tangent and—’
‘I think we need to follow it up, sir,’ Lottie interjected. ‘At least to establish that she’s not missing.’ She noted Kirby was keeping his head studiously stuck in his laptop.
McMahon raised his voice two octaves. ‘Why hasn’t her family reported this?’
‘They’re in London, so I think we need to act—’ Boyd began.
‘She hasn’t been reported missing,’ McMahon interrupted. ‘You have enough to keep you busy with the murder, haven’t you, Detective Inspector?’
Lottie was going to fight him but felt if anyone looked crooked at her she might cry – she was that tired, and still emotional over Katie leaving.
‘Now what’s the story with this body that was found last night?’ McMahon pointed to the photograph on the board. ‘Could this be your missing Mollie?’ He cocked his head at Boyd.
Lottie spoke before Boyd could rise to the provocation. ‘We don’t know who it is yet. Bob Mulligan, who lives out at Ladystown lake, discovered the body around midnight. Well, his dog did, though that was after two teenagers had already tripped over it.’
‘Can you explain what you’re talking about?’ McMahon swiped his fringe back off his forehead.
Lottie thought she could see a line of pimples pulsing on his furrowed brow as she explained about the situation at the lake.
‘I have yet to formally interview Mr Mulligan, but he claims the body can’t have been there longer than a week.’
‘And how would he know that?’
‘He was in Galway from Friday, the fifth, until last night. The dog was with him. He claims the animal would have sniffed it out if it had been there before then.’
‘Have you checked his alibi? He could be involved and is trying to put you off his scent. Or the dog’s scent.’ McMahon laughed.
Lottie ignored him. ‘I’ve to interview the two teenagers this morning. They were in shock last night. They’re staying in a mobile home at the caravan park.’
‘In this weather?’ Kirby piped up.
‘They’re young, and perhaps squatting. But I’m not concerned about that. The body is still in situ. The state pathologist will be there soon, and SOCOs are already at the scene.’
‘Follow it up, then.’
Lottie held her breath, counted to five and exhaled slowly. He was going to crack her up. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘And this Elizabeth Byrne murder. You’ve told us everything you haven’t got; what have you got?’
‘We spoke to her friend Carol O’Grady. She says Elizabeth went running at Rochfort Gardens every weekend. We have a list of those who participated and are working our way through it. If nothing worthwhile turns up in the meantime, I’ll go out there tomorrow and follow up with anyone we haven’t made contact with.’
‘What good will that do?’ McMahon said.
Jesus Christ, she thought. Why doesn’t he just fuck off back to Dublin?
‘One of them might hold a clue as to what happened. Maybe saw someone acting suspiciously.’
‘Could she have been stalked?’
‘It’s a possibility.’
‘I’ll tag along then. Tomorrow? Fine. I want to get to know the locality.’
‘You do?’
‘Of course.’
‘Right so.’ Holy Jesus, this was going to get worse before it got better.
‘And don’t waste time on this missing girl who hasn’t been reported missing.’
Lottie counted to five again. ‘Any further updates, team?’
‘John Gilbey is living in a hostel on Kennedy Street,’ Kirby said. ‘I’m going up there to interview him again after this meeting. And as I mentioned before, Bernard Fahy’s wife says he was with her all Monday night.’
‘Hmph,’ grunted McMahon. ‘I’d rattle that alibi good and hard if I were you.’
‘I will, sir.’
‘I don’t think Fahy is involved,’ Lottie said.
‘No stone and all that,’ McMahon said. ‘Right. Get to it, everyone. And DI Parker, I want a word. Now. Outside.’
She watched him nod to the team and march out of the incident room. She stayed where she was until he stuck his head back around the door.
‘When I say now, I mean now.’
‘You better go,’ Boyd advised. ‘Before he drags you out by the heels.’
* * *
McMahon was pacing up and down the corridor.
‘Listen here, Parker, I’m getting distinct vibes that you don’t want me involved in these investigations.’
‘I …’ Lottie clamped her mouth shut. Safer.
‘Superintendent Corrigan may have let you run your own one-woman show, but I don’t intend to.’
‘With all due respect, sir, that is untrue. I have a great team in Boyd, Kirby and Lynch.’
‘And where is Detective Lynch this morning?’
‘Out sick, as far as I know.’ She didn’t know, but she intended to find out.
‘Is everyone in this damn place on sick leave?’
‘Only Superintendent Corrigan and Detective Lynch. Sir.’
‘You’ve a smart mouth as well as everything else.’ He coiled his large frame and leaned in towards her. ‘You have all those men and women in there and you sideline them with the mundane jobs. Glory-hunting, are you?’
Lottie laughed. ‘That is one thing I cannot be accused of.’
He seemed to consider that before saying, ‘I’m watching you, Parker. Every chip you thought you had on your shoulder is going to be a fully fledged chunk of timber if not a fucking tree by the time I’m finished here. And the shadow you’re going to see following you, let me tell you, will be me.’
‘Is that all?’ Lottie clasped her hands into tight fists, just in case she lashed out at him.
She watched as he strode off down the corridor. This was serious. Kind of. Feck him.
She felt a presence at her shoulder and shivered. What had he said about shadows?
‘What did he have to say for himself?’ Boyd said.
‘Get the car and I’ll tell you on the way out to the lake. Do you know where Lynch is?’
Fifty-Three
The lake was a mirror of the sky, silver grey, with the shadows of the clouds rolling across it like steam from an old train engine. On the ground, at the base of the trees, white snowdrops had eased through the hard earth. Birds were singing. A flap of wings and one surged through the branches and soared up into the sky. A sharp wind blew in off the lake, and Lottie zipped her jacket to her throat and hauled the white protective clothing over it.
The area leading to the body had been marked out with tape, and she followed it through the undergrowth with Boyd close behind her. In places, greenery was struggling to bloom against the weather. Overhead, branches dipped and snagged her hair. She pulled up the hood and placed a mask over her mouth before entering the crime scene.
A loud squawk caused her to look upwards. A magpie, black-and-white plumage plumped and ready for flight, observed her as she marched through the inner cordon.
‘One for sorrow,’ Boyd said, quoting the old saying.
Entering the tent, she looked around the small space and approached McGlynn.
‘Have you taken impressions of the footprints?’ she asked.
‘Everyone and their dog, literally I may add, has tramped around this crime scene.’
‘And those branches out there? Perfect for snagging fibres and hair.’
‘It’ll be done,’ he said grumpily.
‘Any sign of Jane?’ she asked.
‘On her way. She was finishing up the paperwork on Elizabeth Byrne. I think she might have some DNA results too.’
‘Great. I could do with a break. Anything on the clothes from the skip?’
‘If you didn’t keep calling me out to dead bodies, I might get to spend some time in my lab.’
‘That’s a no, then?’
‘Yes, it’s a no.’
Inching closer to the bloated naked body, Lottie felt, rather than saw, McGlynn’s warning eyes.
‘I wouldn’t go any further,’ he said. ‘I need the pathologist to have a look at her first.’
‘It’s a female, then?’
‘Yes. But she’s been doused with bleach, and vermin have had a good nibble. I’ll know more when I get to the lab.’
‘How long has she been here?’