Final Betrayal

by Patricia Gibney

  ‘Louise was pursuing a course in criminal behaviour.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘As part of that course, she interviewed prisoners.’

  ‘I have her paperwork.’ She had yet to read it.

  ‘She spoke with Conor Dowling.’

  ‘I’m sure she did.’ Lottie could feel her cheeks burning. Cynthia was ahead of her.

  ‘In the course of those interviews she revealed something to Conor Dowling that casts doubt on his conviction ten years ago.’

  ‘You’ve been watching Making a Murderer on Netflix.’ Lottie tried to keep the exasperation out of her voice, but failed. ‘The evidence was tight. Conor Dowling terrorised an old man in his own home with a sawn-off shotgun, and once he’d beaten him, he ransacked the house. Louise Gill and Amy Whyte gave conclusive eyewitness testimony. They both saw Conor Dowling in the area that night.’

  ‘Louise spoke to me after her conversation with Dowling in prison.’

  ‘And why would she do that?’

  ‘I was working on a story to coincide with his release. As it turns out, it never got aired. But I can tell you, she was racked with guilt.’

  ‘For putting away a criminal?’

  ‘She lied.’

  ‘Come again.’

  ‘You had no physical or forensic evidence on Conor Dowling. You never found the gun or the money. He never offered a defence. He was convicted on witness statements.’

  ‘Correct so far.’

  ‘Louise and Amy lied.’

  ‘What?’ Lottie had not been expecting that. She felt her jaw drop and hurriedly closed her mouth.

  ‘The two girls were not sure it was Dowling they saw that night.’

  ‘They gave sworn statements.’

  ‘Two impressionable teenagers,’ Cynthia said.

  ‘They had details. He never denied the charge. He was guilty as hell.’

  ‘I don’t think he was.’

  ‘Cynthia, this is bullshit and you know it.’ Lottie felt a twitch of unease. What if the girls had lied? Had she sent an innocent man to prison? She didn’t believe that, but still …

  ‘Louise was contrite. Troubled. I got the feeling she was ready to unburden herself.’

  ‘And did she?’

  ‘No. When the programme was shelved by the powers that be, I arranged to meet her again. I couldn’t let it go.’

  ‘When was this?’

  ‘That’s the thing. I was due to meet her early next week. And now she’s dead. As is Amy Whyte.’

  ‘And two other young women.’ Lottie churned Cynthia’s words around in her head. No matter which way they fell, she couldn’t make sense of them. ‘What exactly did Louise tell you?’

  ‘If I’m to divulge it, I need your story. How you fit in with Bernie Kelly’s tale.’

  ‘A tale. That’s all it is. Bernie is a liar and a serial killer, in case you’d forgotten.’

  ‘I hadn’t forgotten, but I do believe you and your family are in danger.’

  Lottie gulped loudly, looking around for her bag, anywhere but at Cynthia, who she knew was staring at her.

  The reporter tapped the table again triumphantly. ‘You know that already! I take it then that you’ve been threatened. By Bernie?’

  ‘This is not up for discussion. I want to know about Louise and what she said. Do you have recordings of the conversation? I’d like them, please.’

  Cynthia stood. ‘When you decide to cooperate, Inspector, then I will consider handing them over.’

  ‘I can have you arrested for impeding a murder investigation,’ Lottie snapped.

  ‘That would make a great headline. And I’m sure Superintendent McMahon would love that featuring on the nine o’clock news. Think about it.’

  Before she could retort, Lottie was left standing alone in the middle of her bright new kitchen with her brain in turmoil.

  If Cynthia wasn’t going to tell her what Louise had divulged, she’d have to find out another way. First, though, she phoned the station to requisition a squad car with a couple of uniforms to watch over the house. She’d deal with McMahon when the need arose. She left a note for Chloe and Sean telling them she’d booked a taxi to take them to and from school, and to remain indoors after school until she returned home.

  She hoped that was enough to keep her family safe.

  Forty-Two

  The heating was on full blast in the incident room. Lottie stripped off her jacket and dropped it on the floor beside the desk at the head of the room. Boyd sauntered up to her.

  ‘You look awful,’ he said. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I’ll tell you later. We need to get these investigations motoring.’

  She turned to study the sparse boards, and then set about recapping their progress over the last few days.

  ‘Anything on CCTV?’ she asked Kirby.

  ‘It’s painstaking work, but the relevant security cameras in the vicinity of Petit Lane and the car park are number one priority. Nothing to report so far. We’re casting the net wider now, but we’re so short-staffed, the job is almost impossible.’

  ‘I don’t want to hear what we don’t have. I want answers.’

  ‘I can’t give you what I haven’t got, boss. There’s two lads working twenty-four seven, going blind squinting at blurry tapes. Myself and McKeown take over for a few hours at a time, but so far we’ve detected nothing suspicious.’

  ‘The cameras from Cristina Lee’s apartment block. Have you got that footage?’

  ‘We prioritised the tapes from the first two murders, so I don’t know when we’ll get to that.’

  ‘Can someone do a quick scan? See if anyone enters or leaves the apartment?’

  ‘I’ll do it,’ McKeown said. Lottie thought he was being eager to please. She didn’t care, as long as the job got done.

  Kirby sighed loudly. ‘Boss, we really need more bodies.’ He blushed. ‘I mean live ones.’

  ‘I know what you mean.’ She flicked through the report on the desk. ‘Post-mortems have been completed on the first two victims. Both had their throats cut. I won’t go into the technical details, but neither girl was sexually assaulted. No foreign DNA on their bodies so far as Jane could determine. No fingerprints recovered, which suggests the assailant wore gloves. A couple of hairs were found on both girls’ clothing and these have been sent for analysis. Given that the crime scene was used as a doss house, we can’t count on getting anything worthwhile from those hairs unless we have a suspect to compare them to. But Jane discovered a small pinprick at the base of each girl’s neck and suspects they were injected. She’s awaiting toxicology reports. What’s the update on interviews with the people who were at the nightclub?’

  Boyd tapped a keyboard. ‘The doorman claims Amy left first, followed about half an hour later by Penny. The CCTV at the door confirms this. Both turned left as they exited, which suggests they headed towards Petit Lane. Penny’s flat is in that direction and it’s possible that Amy was taking a shortcut via the underpass.’

  ‘Someone was watching and waiting. Does everyone at the club check out?’

  ‘Those we were able to contact. We spoke to all the staff. Tracking down the patrons is a different story. Ducky Reilly was with both girls at one stage, but he remained at the club with a group of lads and they all verify this along with the CCTV. So that puts him in the clear.’

  ‘I’m not discounting the fact that more than one person could be complicit in this crime.’

  ‘Why?’ Boyd enquired.

  ‘I just think there was a lot of planning involved. After the first girl, Amy, was dealt with, the killer went back for the second. We need to establish which of them was the prime target, or was it both? The deaths of Louise Gill and Cristina Lee throw the cat among the pigeons, so to speak.’ Lottie paused to catch her breath. Talking about the victims broke her heart a little each time she had to do it, but she had to distance herself slightly or she knew she wouldn’t be able to do her job.

  ‘Th
e post-mortems on Louise and Cristina will be completed today, and I should have preliminary reports by late evening. Besides the fact that all four victims had their throats cut, the common denominator at both scenes is the coins. Anyone find out anything about them yet?’

  Blank faces stared back at her.

  ‘Nothing?’

  ‘Not so far.’ Boyd shook his head. ‘McGlynn thinks they’re home-made. Definitely not monetary. No symbols. He’s trying to find out what type of machine might’ve made them.’

  ‘Keep on to him about it.’ She scanned the list in front of her. ‘The phone we recovered from Richard Whyte’s house. Please tell me we got something from that.’

  More blank stares. ‘Jesus, lads, will you wake up. There has to be someone working on it.’

  ‘It’s with the technical department,’ Kirby said. ‘It’s an old Nokia. SIM card is missing. Nothing saved to the phone itself. No photos or numbers. Unless we find the SIM, it’s useless.’

  ‘Fingerprints?’

  ‘Some have been extracted and are being compared to both Amy and Cristina. I’ll know more later.’

  ‘Step on it, Kirby. That phone belonged to either Richard Whyte or one of the girls. Why the need to hide it? Who were they in contact with? And where the hell is the SIM card? We’ll go back and do a thorough search of the house. Boyd, you check with Richard Whyte to see if that’s okay.’

  ‘Will do.’

  ‘And if he doesn’t agree, we’ll get a warrant.’ She paused for a moment. ‘The girls’ own phones were all found with the bodies, with the exception of Louise’s, which was in her room. Anything of interest found on them?’

  ‘The usual social media,’ Kirby said. ‘Nothing jumping out to point to them being stalked by a serial killer.’

  ‘Except for the coins found in Louise and Amy’s rooms and the note in Amy’s house. I’ve had a quick glance through Louise’s notebooks and at first glance they all relate to her coursework. I could do with Lynch to go through them meticulously.’ They were too stretched.

  ‘Louise’s laptop is similar,’ Boyd said. ‘Criminal behaviour assignments, and her search history is all to do with her research for those.’

  Lottie recalled Cynthia Rhodes’ revelation. ‘Anything about visits to prisons?’

  ‘Not yet,’ he said. ‘Why?’

  ‘Read through everything. See if you can find any reference to Conor Dowling. I’m led to believe Louise went to see him in Mountjoy.’

  Boyd raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘Who led you to believe that?’

  ‘Doesn’t matter who, just see if you can find any reference to him in her work.’ She rolled up the sleeves of her faded-to-grey-in-the-wash white T-shirt, feeling light-headed from the stifling heat in the room.

  ‘What about the murder weapon?’ Boyd said.

  ‘What about it? We haven’t found it.’

  ‘Exactly. Shouldn’t we step up our efforts?’

  ‘Uniforms have scoured all around Petit Lane and the car park. Bins and recycling bins. Gardens, the railway tracks. They’ve looked everywhere, plus the canal. If the killer used the same weapon on Louise and Cristina, we can assume he kept it. Once we get the post-mortem results we will know if he used the same one.’

  ‘Right,’ Boyd said. Lottie thought she detected a distinct grumpiness from him. She could do without that.

  ‘Have the two lads who were knocked out at the house in Petit Lane been interviewed since I spoke to them in hospital?’

  Kirby put up his hand. ‘I’ve got the transcripts here. Nealon and McGrath were more than a bit hazy. They’d been drinking on the canal line and needed somewhere to kip. They think they were previously in that house about two weeks ago. They have no recollection of seeing anyone before they were attacked. Their tox levels were off the page. Alcohol and cannabis.’

  ‘How were they knocked out?’ Lottie asked.

  ‘Both had contusions to the back of the head. Blunt object. Since nothing that could be the weapon was found at the scene, it’s safe to say their assailant took it.’

  ‘And they can’t give any description?’

  Kirby shook his head.

  ‘Anyone got anything to add? We could do with a lead.’ She sat on the chair and felt the tiredness of her sleepless night sink into her muscles.

  ‘The note found in Amy’s room,’ Boyd said. ‘It’s been sent for fingerprint analysis. We still have no idea how she came to have it. Should we send it for further forensic tests?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘The ink. The paper type. Where it might have been purchased. Is it rare or mass-produced? All that kind of thing.’

  ‘All that kind of thing costs money. Wait for the fingerprint analysis. The words are written in capital letters, so no point doing handwriting analysis. Keep it in mind, but no further action at the moment.’

  ‘It was a direct threat to Amy. It’s a major clue. We need to follow it up,’ Boyd protested.

  ‘How do you envisage we do that?’

  ‘TV appeal?’

  ‘You’ll have the crazies crawling out of the woodwork. The coins are a different matter. We need to see if anyone recognises them. Maybe your friend Cynthia could help there.’

  ‘She’s no friend of mine,’ Boyd said.

  She let it go. ‘We need house-to-house stepped up around Cristina’s apartment. We need to establish her last-known movements, and the same for Louise. Her father says she left the house sometime after eight on Tuesday night. Her body was found yesterday morning. So I want a timeline for her movements during that interval.’ She turned to look at the photos of the four victims on the board. ‘What links these four young women to lead them to be the targets of a killer?’

  ‘Amy and Louise gave evidence against Conor Dowling. Maybe he’s exacting his revenge,’ Boyd said.

  ‘But why kill Penny and Cristina?’ Kirby asked. ‘That doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘To muddy the waters?’ Boyd offered.

  ‘Penny worked with Amy at one stage,’ Lottie said. ‘Did you find out anything worthwhile at the pharmacy, Kirby?’

  ‘Just that she was let go for petty pilfering. Amy had secured her the job originally.’

  ‘Penny’s list of clients for her nail bar,’ Lottie said, remembering the black appointment book. ‘Anyone turn up there that might be suspicious?’

  ‘I’ll check it,’ Kirby said, tapping his shirt pocket for his elusive cigar that he couldn’t smoke inside anyway.

  Lottie thought he looked a little brighter this morning. That makes one of us, she thought.

  ‘Priorities for today. One, find out if Louise visited Conor Dowling in prison. There might be something in her coursework; if not, contact Mountjoy. Boyd, you do that. Two, the coins need to be identified. Kirby, you stick McGlynn on that one. And the phones. Especially the Nokia. I want the SIM card found. Once Richard Whyte gives the go-ahead, I want a full search of his house. McKeown, you also need to keep on top of the CCTV.’

  ‘Will do,’ Sam McKeown said.

  ‘What are we going to do about Conor Dowling?’ Boyd said.

  ‘Request a twenty-four-hour surveillance detail to tail him,’ Lottie said. ‘I want to know what he eats and where he shits until this investigation is closed.’

  ‘We better run that by the superintendent first.’

  ‘I intend to do it straight away.’

  ‘Wish you luck with that.’

  ‘Then you and I are going to talk to Dowling’s mother.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘To shake up his weak alibi.’

  Forty-Three

  Tony lounged against the wall at the side of the courthouse. He saw Bob Cleary haul Conor into the office and reckoned he was going to be fired. In a way, he was glad. Conor was putting the shits up him and he didn’t like it. Waiting for Cleary to return before continuing with his work, he wondered if a decision had been made about the body in the tunnel. If it was up to him, he’d go along with Conor’s sug
gestion to ignore it so that they could get on with the job.

  He doused his cigarette in a puddle and looked up, surprised to see Conor walking towards him.

  ‘What did the boss want?’ he said.

  ‘Nothing to do with you.’

  ‘We better get to work so, or the two of us will get the sack.’ Tony marched off towards the site, where bricks were waiting to be hauled as the crane creaked overhead. He was glad it wasn’t windy. ‘Don’t trust those bastards.’

  ‘What bastards?’

  ‘The cranes. Too high up, and only one man operating it. What would happen if he suddenly lost his rag and decided to drop a ton of concrete slabs down on top of us?’

  ‘We’d be dead so we wouldn’t give a shit.’

  Tony laughed.

  ‘What you laughing at?’ Conor said.

  ‘Just thought that was funny.’

  ‘You’re as weird as fuck. One minute you think the sky is going to fall in on top of you, and the next you’re laughing to yourself. You going mad or what, Chicken Licken?’

  They reached the area where they were due to work today and Tony turned to reply, but Conor was gone. He looked all around, but there was no sign of him. He glanced at the crane again as it swung around in the morning breeze, its cargo of wooden slats sliding precariously. It looked anything but safe.

  * * *

  Without speaking to McMahon to request additional resources, because she knew he’d say he’d already given her Sam McKeown, Lottie grabbed her keys and headed for the yard. Boyd came down the stairs behind her.

  ‘What’s wrong with you this morning?’ he said.

  ‘I’m tired, that’s all.’ She unlocked her car and slid into the driver’s seat.

  ‘Want me to drive?’

  ‘Does it look like it?’

  He jumped in beside her. ‘It’s Bernie Kelly, isn’t it?’

  Lottie nodded. ‘She’s around somewhere and it’s eating me up that I don’t know where.’

  ‘Any word from Leo Belfield?’

  ‘Nope. And I don’t want him anywhere near me or I’ll throttle him.’ She shifted gears and sped out of the yard and down Main Street.

  ‘Where are we headed?’