‘I’ll let you have the full report as soon as.’
‘And you’ll call me if you find anything else?’
‘I will.’
Lottie was at the door when Jane said, ‘Oh, one other thing.’
Lottie turned around.
‘Almost forgot, as I was saving this bit for last. I found a silver Claddagh ring embedded in the junction between the oesophagus and the stomach.’
‘What?’
‘You heard me. It had been lodged there for some time. Perhaps she swallowed it or it was forced down her throat. But she never passed it.’
‘That’s terrible. Any inscription?’
‘I’ll photograph it and send it to you.’
Lottie left Jane to her Dead House. On the drive back to Ragmullin, she wondered who this mystery victim was, and how someone who might have died of natural causes came to be left out in the woods by the lake. And why had she swallowed a ring? Where was her child? Alive or dead? Then another thought struck her. Why had the victim’s head been shaved?
Fifty-Eight
Grace’s course finished early. As she left the building, she looked around her. She could feel eyes on her back. She leaned against the wall, letting the rushing crowds file past, then took a deep breath and sniffed away her fear.
She had thought of nothing all day but Mollie. Irrational behaviour was foreign to her. She was a creature of habit. Now she wanted to help a girl she hardly knew. If only she could be brave, if only she could shed her anxiety for a few hours, maybe she could confront the man she’d seen on the train. Would she be able to do that? No, of course not. Yes, Grace, you can. You will.
Shouldering her bag, she tied her scarf around her neck with shaking hands. She really needed her anxiety medication. Taking her first step away from the building, making herself as small as possible to avoid contact with people, she headed for the station. If he was on the train, she was going to approach him. And get him to tell her where he’d taken Mollie.
She headed down Talbot Street, turning her head every few seconds.
Checking.
* * *
On her return from the Dead House, Lottie bumped into Detective Maria Lynch.
‘Sorry about this morning, boss,’ Lynch said.
‘Not feeling well?’ Lottie said. ‘Come into my office.’
‘I’m a bit nauseous. Mainly in the mornings,’ Lynch said when she was seated.
‘You’re pregnant?’
‘I am. I’m thirty-five. I already have two young children and I didn’t want any more, and—’
‘Congratulations.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I’m genuinely pleased for you.’ Lottie caught the glimmer of something in Lynch’s eye. ‘You’re not happy about it?’
‘It wasn’t planned. I’m still getting used to the idea. The reason I’m telling you this early is that I may miss a few mornings, but I’ll work later in the evenings to make up for it.’
‘Don’t worry about that.’
‘I don’t want any preferential treatment. No desk duty.’
‘Me? Give preferential treatment? You should know me by now.’
Lynch laughed and the tension eased out of the room. ‘Now that the surveillance job has been abandoned, I’ll have more energy.’
‘Great. Your first priority is to get Matt Mullin in for interview. Can you work on that?’
‘Will do. Thanks, boss.’
When Lynch was gone, Lottie felt relieved. She thought it might be the effects of the pill she’d taken earlier, or maybe it was just that she could knock Lynch off the list of people out to get her.
* * *
She had just closed the door to try to get a few minutes’ peace when there was a knock and Gilly O’Donoghue walked in.
‘What’s up?’ Lottie said, noticing the young woman’s pallor. Surely she wasn’t pregnant too?
‘I want to officially report Mollie Hunter as a missing person.’
‘I agree with you, but tell me what’s changed.’
‘I contacted her office. She works in the Department of Social Welfare on Townsend Street in Dublin. Her line manager says she very rarely misses work. If she has to take a day’s sick leave, she always rings in. She hadn’t booked any annual leave, so he was particularly worried when he heard she hasn’t been seen since Wednesday.’
‘Did he confirm she was feeling okay when she finished work on Wednesday? Have you spoken to her colleagues?’
‘Not in person. But her manager rang me back and said no one has heard from her. He thinks it’s odd.’
‘In light of the murder of Elizabeth Byrne, go ahead and file the report. Establish Mollie’s last known movements. Talk to anyone who saw her at the station.’ This was counteracting McMahon’s direct order. Another collision course in the making.
Gilly said, ‘I’ve already put up a personal Facebook appeal, so I’ll do an official call-out too. And I’ll have a word with Boyd’s sister, Grace. She travelled on the train with Mollie on Wednesday.’
‘Do that, and keep me up to date on your progress. We need to find Mollie.’ As the door shut on Gilly, Lottie whispered, ‘Alive.’
Fifty-Nine
Lottie gathered the team in the incident room for an impromptu meeting and filled them in on the post-mortem details from the victim found at the lake.
‘We need to find a match for her. Kirby, run her DNA through the national database. See what turns up.’
‘Will do.’ Kirby scribbled on his growing to-do list.
She pinned up a photograph and pointed to it. ‘This is a silver Claddagh ring. It was found by the state pathologist in the victim’s intestines. Take copies of it. See if you can find out where it came from.’
‘Jaysus,’ Kirby said.
‘It might be a clue to who she was. I can’t see any engravings on it, so it may be a lost cause. All the same, we’re good at fighting lost causes around here.’
A whisper of laughter before Boyd said, ‘It’s a symbol of love.’
‘What is?’
‘The Claddagh. My father gave one to my mother as an engagement ring. It can mean that you’re spoken for. It’s a traditional ring but nowadays it’s mass-produced.’
‘That’s not much help to us, but bear its significance in mind.’ Lottie studied the picture before continuing. ‘This victim had a child some years ago. We’re looking for a thirty-five-year-old mother. Someone has to be missing her. Her child? Her husband or partner? The man who gave her the ring, perhaps?’
‘Someone local?’ Boyd piped up.
‘The only missing persons we’ve had in the last couple of weeks are Elizabeth Byrne and now Mollie Hunter,’ Lottie said. ‘We know Elizabeth is dead and we have her body, but Mollie’s age doesn’t fit this body and as far as we know she had no children. Therefore it is someone else.
‘Mollie Hunter is now officially classed as a missing person. Garda O’Donoghue is organising an appeal for sightings, and we need to track her phone and trace her last movements. See if anything in her life overlaps with Elizabeth Byrne’s. It can’t be a coincidence that both women were last seen at Ragmullin station. Boyd, you get whatever CCTV footage is available from the station for Wednesday.’
‘I’ll do my best.’
Lottie patrolled the perimeter of the incident room. ‘I don’t believe in coincidences, so we need to find Mollie before she ends up like Elizabeth in someone else’s grave.’
‘Should we warn rail passengers?’ Boyd asked.
Lottie cringed, thinking of Cynthia Rhodes’ threat. ‘I know you’re worried for Grace’s safety, but I don’t think that’s warranted at the moment.’
‘It’s not just Grace I’m worried about.’
‘As it stands, we don’t know where Elizabeth was actually abducted from. It could have been on her walk home. But we’ll put uniforms on the platform this evening. Then we have the weekend to make headway before the Monday commute begins again. All leave is cancelled. Who was taking a second look at Monday’s CCTV from the station?’
Kirby raised his hand. ‘I was. It’s very blurred. No one jumps out at me as recognisable.’
‘Check it again.’ She pointed to Matt Mullin’s photo on the board. ‘He is a wanted man. Find him.’ Pausing in front of Kirby, she said, ‘Any word on John Gilbey?’