‘And when his nut of a brother realised he’d lost the chain and ring, he started searching and questioning, seeking out anyone Carol was in contact with.’ Lottie sighed.
‘But it all started with Lynn falling in love with Paddy McWard, whose only crime was being born into a community despised by the O’Donnell men.’ Boyd slammed the desk in frustration. ‘Prejudice!’
‘No, it started before then. Jealousy between two brothers. Jealousy within their family.’
Kirby barged in the door. ‘Sorry, boss. We found a body.’
‘Where? Who? Everyone is accounted for.’
‘On the train tracks. Just by the cemetery. Reports came in a half-hour ago.’ Kirby was out of breath.
‘Who is it?’
Kirby placed a photo on Lottie’s desk. ‘That’s his photo, from the incident board. He was hit by the evening train.’
‘Matt Mullin,’ Lottie said. ‘Poor man.’
‘When Grace is well enough, I’ll get her to have a look at his photograph,’ Boyd said. ‘It was probably Mullin who caused Mollie to move seats and sit beside her.’
‘Thanks, Kirby,’ Lottie said. ‘Will you inform his mother? Take a family liaison officer with you.’
‘Will do. Oh, one other thing, boss. SOCOs have been going over Finn O’Donnell’s car. Found flecks of skin in the footwell and on the front and back seats.’
‘Links Finn directly to Elizabeth Byrne. She suffered from psoriasis.’
‘DNA should link him to Carol’s rape,’ Boyd said. ‘Where’s his brother now?’
‘We released him on bail, so he’s probably at home, either patching things up with Keelan or packing his bags. Either way, Cillian did nothing wrong that we can prove, yet.’
‘Not unless Keelan makes an official complaint for domestic abuse.’
‘Time will tell,’ Lottie said.
‘But how did he know Finn was at the old nursing home?’ Boyd rubbed his jaw, and winced as his fingers snagged on the plaster.
‘His story is that he was out at the lake with Carol and she told him about being raped. When she mentioned the chain with the ring, he immediately suspected his brother. He knew there were only two places Finn had an interest in. One was the old railway, so he checked that first, and then he made his way to Finn’s other favourite haunt. The old nursing home.’
‘Had he not been there before? Surely he would have come across Lynn?’
‘He says he never went there, but both of them had worked there when they were younger. He said Finn often talked about the old incinerator and how one day he wanted to restore it.’
‘I still believe Cillian was involved.’
‘I don’t think so,’ Lottie said, just as her desk phone lit up with a call. She answered it, her head as weary as her hands. Last night’s fire drama seemed to have shrivelled her brain.
It was Jim McGlynn.
‘Any news on who tried to murder my family?’ Lottie asked.
‘Fire started in your utility room. Probably a clothes dryer.’
‘That can’t be right.’ Lottie felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. ‘It can’t be my fault.’
‘We’re still working on it. We may find something else. Just wanted to let you know that.’
‘Thanks, Jim.’
‘You’d want to check your insurance, though.’
‘Oh, won’t it cover the fire?’
‘How would I know?’ McGlynn hung up.
Lottie glanced up. ‘What?’
‘Your fault?’ Boyd said.
Feeling tears building up, Lottie sniffed them away. ‘Jesus, Boyd. What have I done to my family? I never have time for maintenance or household stuff. It’s always rush and fuss. Oh God. It’s all my fault.’ She laid her head on the desk and wrapped her hands about it.
‘Shush, Lottie,’ Boyd said. ‘Don’t blame yourself. It might still turn out to be the work of that bastard Finn O’Donnell.’
She raised her head. ‘Maybe you’re right. I don’t know which is worse. Thinking it’s my fault, or that someone targeted me and my family.’
Kirby stuck his head around the door. ‘Lynch is buying the first round in Cafferty’s. That right, Lynch?’
‘Piss off, Kirby. I can’t drink and you know it.’
‘Why not?’ Boyd said.
‘I’m pregnant,’ Lynch said, her cheeks flaring.
‘Ah, a bit of good news at last,’ Boyd said.
‘Grace doing okay?’ Lynch said.
‘She’ll be fine. My mother is with her. I better get back to the hospital.’
‘Suppose I should give Gilly a call,’ Kirby said. ‘Don’t like celebrating the end of a case on my own.’
When the office emptied and she was alone, Lottie called Chloe.
‘Hey, hun. You and Sean okay?’
‘Fine. Had a fab day with Gilly. She’s cool. Bought loads of clothes in town. Wait till I show you. And we got Sean a hoodie and shirts and a pair of jeans. He’s going around in his bare feet, though. We forgot to buy him shoes.’
‘I’ll get him some tomorrow.’
‘He spent all day watching old films on the telly with Granny. You know what? He actually enjoyed it.’
‘That’s great.’ Lottie felt a stab of jealousy. ‘Will I bring a takeaway?’
‘Is Boyd paying?’
‘No, I found my handbag with Katie’s money.’
‘Only joking. About Boyd, I mean. Bring him round. Granny wants a word with him.’
‘Really?’
‘No, not really.’ Chloe’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘We can’t live here, Mum. She’s going to drive me mad, and by tomorrow Sean will be bored of movies. And we have a week off school. What are we going to do?’
‘I’m sorry, Chloe, but we’ll have to stay there for a little while. At least until I sort out somewhere to rent.’
‘Granny wants to speak to you.’
‘No, Chloe, I have to run.’
Too late.
‘You’re always running.’ Rose Fitzpatrick had her mojo back. ‘You don’t have to bring any takeaway into my house. I’ve cooked a turkey and a ham.’
‘But it’s not Christmas.’
‘It’s Valentine’s Day. About time we had a little love around here. And bring along that lad with the big ears.’
‘Who? Boyd?’
‘Yes. I like him. Are you on your way?’
Lottie hung up and noticed Boyd lounging in the doorway.
‘I thought you were gone to the hospital,’ she said, moving files around her desk. She found the little paintings in their plastic evidence bag.
‘Wanted to make sure you weren’t staying here all night.’
‘It must have been hell for Lynn being held in that tiny space for ten years. And the bones of her baby beside her. How cruel can people be?’ Lottie wondered.
‘The baby can be buried with his mother, once Jane runs the DNA tests.’
‘I’m trying to make out the signature.’ She picked up another painting, one of a train. She glanced up with tears in her eyes.
‘What is it, Lottie?’ Boyd leaned over the desk and gripped her hand.
She welcomed the contact, needing to feel the touch of a good human being. There was too much evil in the world. But she pulled her hand away all the same.
‘Lynn never stopped loving the father of her child.’ She turned the painting around for Boyd to read. ‘See the word on the train. It’s his name. Paddy.’
‘Poor bastard. He’s off organising funerals. But he probably won’t get to attend Lynn’s. Donal O’Donnell won’t have him near it.’
‘If Keelan has anything to do with it, Paddy will be there. I’d say she’s sick of their jealousy and prejudice. And frankly, so am I.’
Kirby rushed in, his unlit cigar hanging from his lips.
‘What now?’ Lottie said.
‘McMahon. He’s on the warpath. Worse than Corrigan ever was. Coming this way. I’d make a quick exit if I was you.’
‘Arsehole,’ Boyd said.
‘Shit,’ Lottie muttered.
Epilogue
With Boyd by her side, Lottie stood in the road, looking at the remains of her burned-out house. It was dark, and the heavens were in a tormented mood.
‘Why do the gods continue to conspire against me to take everything away?’
‘You have your family and you still have your job,’ Boyd said. ‘You’re lucky McMahon’s not pursuing your television debacle any further.’
‘It’s only so he can wallow in the success of closing the murder investigation so quickly. I wonder if Cynthia Rhodes is sticking around.’
‘I’m sure she will.’
‘Any word on Corrigan?’ Lottie said. ‘Never thought I’d say this, but I miss him.’