‘But he was disappearing all night.’
‘I know. Told me that sometimes he had to stay over. If it ran late. That’s what he said.’
Lottie wondered where he stayed over. And why hadn’t he told her all this? If it was an innocent activity, surely he wouldn’t have been reticent in divulging it. She knew it was unusual for members of the travelling community to be unfaithful, but that was what she was thinking now. She’d have to get Paddy to reveal all, otherwise he was looking at a charge of manslaughter, if not murder.
‘He didn’t do it, if that’s what you’re thinking. Not this time, anyway.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Don’t get stroppy with me, young lady. I’m just telling it as I see it. Like I said, I’m not blind yet.’
‘I’m under a lot of pressure. What with the fire, the murder in the cemetery, a young woman missing after getting the train home, and the body at the lake, it’s all—’
‘Missing after getting the train? That’s what happened to the young lass years ago.’
‘I’m talking about Mollie Hunter. She’s been missing since Wednesday.’
Queenie slipped down in the bed, appearing to shrink in size as the sheet covered her bony frame.
‘What is it?’ Lottie asked, alarmed.
‘History repeating itself. That’s what it is,’ the old woman croaked.
‘I don’t follow you.’ Lottie wanted to escape out of the ward. Away from the smell of old people. Away from the creaking bones of Queenie McWard.
The old woman grabbed Lottie’s hand. She almost shrieked at the swiftness of the movement.
‘That girl was no good. No good for any relation of mine. But that wasn’t the real story. They thought he was no good for her.’ Queenie folded up in a fit of coughing. Foam gathered at the corner of her mouth and a bony ring-clad hand pulled at her lips.
Lottie pressed the call button for a nurse.
Medical staff filled the room, pushing Lottie to one side, and she watched as they worked vigorously on the little old woman.
‘Please don’t die, Queenie,’ she whispered.
She had so many more questions, but it looked like she wouldn’t be able to ask them. Not today.
She was moving towards the door when it dawned on her. She glanced back towards the scrum of medical staff. The silver Claddagh ring amid the gold bands on the skeletal hand.
She left the room. Left the hum of machines and the shouts of nurses and doctors. Left Queenie McWard to her fate.
* * *
Sitting in her car outside the nursing home, Lottie felt the rusting wheels of her brain begin to turn. Picking up speed. It was there. Within her grasp. She just had to think. Her phone rang.
‘This better be good, Boyd, because you’ve interrupted my thoughts. I was getting somewhere, and now it’s gone.’
‘You need to get to Carol O’Grady’s house now. I’ll see you there.’
Seventy-Eight
They’d received no response from ringing the bell which appeared broken, and now Lottie was banging on Carol O’Grady’s door.
Boyd’s eye was beginning to yellow and bruise as a result of the whack he’d taken.
The door opened.
‘Terry?’ The young man’s eyes were sunk in his head. Was he drunk, or high? At this hour of the day?
‘Who wants to know?’
‘I met you the other day. DI Lottie Parker and DS Boyd. Do you remember?’
‘Nah.’
‘We want to speak with Carol.’
‘She’s at work. Ma and Da are in town.’
‘I think she’s here.’ Lottie ducked under the teenager’s arm.
‘You can’t do that,’ Terry and Boyd said together.
‘I just did.’ Lottie stood at the foot of the stairs and shouted up. ‘Carol. I want to have a word.’
Footsteps sounded on the landing and Carol appeared. ‘What’s with all the hammering? I’m trying to sleep.’
Lottie beckoned the young woman down the stairs. ‘Would you put the kettle on, Terry?’
‘I’m going out.’ He bundled past Boyd and down the path.
‘You might need a coat,’ Lottie shouted after him.
‘Fuck the coat.’
Lottie and Boyd followed Carol into the sitting room.
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Sick as a dog. Had to leave work early.’
‘Pregnancy can do that, you know.’
‘Shh. Keep your voice down.’ Carol swung her head in the direction of the door leading to the kitchen.
‘Don’t worry. Terry said your parents are in town.’
‘What does he know? He’s been drinking down the tracks since last night.’
‘We want to ask you about Mollie Hunter.’ Lottie had had enough of time-wasting for one day.
Carol crossed her arms and tugged at the elbows of her sweater. She pursed her lips tightly shut.
‘You know her, don’t you?’
‘I suppose.’
‘No suppose about it. Care to tell us?’
‘Not really.’
‘I haven’t got all day, Carol. I know you’re sick, but I’ll drag your arse down to the station and put you in a puke-smelling cell and you can vomit your guts up all night. It doesn’t really bother me. So tell me.’
‘She … she was nice to me.’
‘For God’s sake. Why did we find an item of your underwear in a plastic bag in Mollie Hunter’s flat?’
‘What?’
‘We fast-tracked a sample of DNA. Your DNA is a match.’
‘Match for what? How did you have my DNA?’
‘You were arrested with Terry three years ago. Possession of cannabis.’
‘The charge was dropped.’
‘It was, but your DNA is on file.’
Carol appeared to shrivel up. She sniffed back tears and looked as though she might be sick.
‘Tell me,’ Lottie said.
‘I was raped. There. Now I’ve said it.’ She pulled tighter on her sleeves.
Lottie turned to Boyd. He shrugged. They hadn’t considered this scenario at all.
‘Tell me, please, Carol.’ She spoke more gently.
‘It happened near her place. She came along. She was all right, so she was, even though I didn’t know her. She found me in a heap on the side of the lane that runs down between two blocks of flats. She brought me into her home. Wanted to call the guards. But I was in shock. Didn’t know what I was doing or saying. I must’ve said not to call anyone.’ She sniffed and rubbed the back of her hand beneath her nose.
Lottie widened her eyes at Boyd.
‘Who did it, Carol? When?’
‘Oh, for Christ’s sake. It doesn’t matter now. It was over two months ago.’
‘Did you recognise him? Someone you knew?’
‘I … I’m not sure. I thought he seemed familiar. His voice was gruff, angry. I think he was drunk. I don’t know.’
‘And the thong. Why had Mollie got it?’
‘She took my clothes that night. I was wet and grubby. I was a mess. She said she had a friend in the guards. I got hysterical and said I wanted no guards. She told me if I changed my mind I could talk to this friend. I made her promise not to tell anyone. I don’t think she did but she must’ve kept my clothes for evidence or something. I honestly don’t know.’ Carol curled into herself, gulping back huge sobs.
Lottie eased back into the armchair, realising she had been coiled, ready to spring forward.
‘This man … this excuse for a man who did this to you, is he the father of the child you’re carrying?’
Carol shrugged. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘Were you in a relationship with someone else at the time?’
A nod.
‘Who?’
She shook her head. ‘Not saying.’
‘Who else knows about the attack?’
‘No one.’
‘Did Elizabeth know?’
Carol bit her lip, tears coursing down her cheeks. ‘Yeah. I told Lizzie.’
‘So, two young women who knew that you’d been raped. One is dead – murdered – and the other is missing, quite possibly also murdered. And you didn’t think it important enough to tell us? Jesus Christ, where are your brains?’
Lottie felt Boyd touch her arm, restraining her. She let his hand rest. He was right. She was angry with the girl for withholding information, but she was suffering enough. Dear God, she thought for what seemed like the tenth time that day, what a mess.
‘You have to report this, Carol.’
‘No, I don’t. It was just an accident. He didn’t mean it. He’s a good man.’