Buried Angels

by Patricia Gibney

  ‘The internet? What are you talking about?’

  ‘Instagram,’ Lottie said.

  ‘That? It’s just a story. I put it on YouTube too. A thousand views already. Amazing. And I’ve had national television news on to me. They want to interview Gavin. And two national newspapers. Imagine!’

  ‘I advise you not to do that,’ Lottie said.

  ‘I’m not asking your permission.’ Tamara mirrored Lottie’s folded arms.

  ‘You’re putting your son in danger.’

  ‘He only said he and his friend found the body. They’re heroes, Inspector.’

  ‘It mentions flying the drone over that area for a week. What’s that about?’

  ‘I don’t know. Gavin doesn’t even own the drone. It’s Jack’s.’

  ‘And did you get permission from Jack’s parents to drag his son into this before you posted it?’

  ‘We didn’t mention Jack by name.’

  ‘No, but anyone can find out who Gavin’s friend is.’

  Tamara sulked. ‘Well it’s done now.’

  ‘Remove it.’

  ‘I can’t do that.’

  ‘You can’t or you won’t?’

  ‘I don’t want to, and you can’t make me.’

  Jesus, Lottie thought, Tamara looked like a teenager being told to go to her room. She supposed the damage was already done, but it galled her to think of a mother exploiting her son in this way.

  ‘How much did they offer you? The newspapers?’

  ‘None of your business.’

  Unfolding her arms, Lottie moved towards the woman. ‘If any harm comes to Jack or Gavin, I am holding you personally responsible. Remember that when you’re banking your cash.’

  ‘I’d like you both to leave.’ Tamara pointed to the door.

  ‘Keep a close eye on your son. I’ll have to tell the Sheridans what you’ve done and how you’ve put their son in the sight of a killer.’

  Lottie was glad when she got the required reaction.

  ‘No, don’t say anything to Lisa.’

  ‘Lisa? What about Charlie? Does he not care for his son’s safety?’

  ‘He does. Please, don’t tell them. I’ll take it down.’

  ‘You’re back early.’ Lisa was hanging clothes on the line.

  ‘Where are the kids?’ Charlie said.

  ‘Maggie’s having a nap. The boys are still in school. What did the consultant have to tell you?’

  ‘I didn’t see him. There was a full waiting room and I was too anxious. I had to get out of there.’

  ‘Ah no, Charlie. You can’t let your anxiety get the better of you. I should have gone with you.’

  ‘You had to mind Maggie. Hospital is no place for a two-year-old.’

  ‘You’ll have to wait weeks for a new appointment.’

  ‘I won’t. I’ll tell them I’m dying or something. I’ll get an appointment quick enough.’

  He watched as Lisa pegged Maggie’s little white dress on the line. She picked up the basket, and as she walked towards him, he felt himself shrink away. He went into the kitchen and took a can of lager out of the refrigerator.

  ‘Jesus, Charlie, you can’t drink at this hour of the day.’

  ‘I need it.’

  ‘But it isn’t good for you. Anyway, make a new appointment immediately. You need to know what’s wrong. This uncertainty is driving me insane.’

  ‘You and me both,’ he said, placing the drink on the counter.

  She moved towards the open patio door.

  ‘Lisa, please don’t turn your back on me.’

  ‘You’re not yourself.’ She was at the line again, moving pegs around. ‘All this anxiety about the consultation, then everything with poor Jack and what he found, it’s not good for you.’

  ‘And do I not know what’s good for myself?’ He could feel the anger taking the place of his anxiety. Curling around his veins like a hungry snake.

  ‘Sometimes you need others to remind you.’ She moved Maggie’s dress along the line and stuck another peg on the hem. The sun glinted through the thin white cotton. Charlie felt blinded for a moment.

  ‘That may be true. But I don’t need you to tell me anything. Do you hear? I’ve had enough of your lies.’

  She paused then, and he wondered if at last he had penetrated the shield she so artfully erected when she needed to.

  She said, ‘I never lie to you.’

  ‘You lied to me for years. How could you, Lisa?’

  ‘I told you a thousand times, I’m sorry.’

  ‘How do you expect me to believe you?’ He fetched his beer, gulped it down and returned to his vigil by the door. ‘Sorry doesn’t make it better. It’s just a word.’

  He watched as she pegged up Jack’s football jersey, her back still to him.

  ‘I don’t know how to make things right,’ she said.

  He knew then that she was crying.

  ‘You can’t make them right.’ He finished his beer, crushed the can and flung it as far down the garden as he could. Then he fetched another one. ‘Aren’t the boys due home soon?’

  ‘I can go pick them up if you watch Maggie for me.’

  ‘You watch her. I’ll pick them up.’

  ‘You’ve had a drink, you shouldn’t be driv—’

  ‘Lisa! For once, can you please just shut up.’

  He grabbed his keys and closed the door softly because he knew she’d be expecting him to bang it and he wanted to piss her off. Really piss her off. His day had been shit.

  ‘Feck off, Lisa,’ he shouted as he drove down the narrow lane.

  The knock on the door was insistent. Karen Tierney unwrapped the throw from around her legs, pulled herself off the couch and opened the door.

  ‘Kevin! What are you doing here?’ She was surprised to see her colleague. ‘Do you want to come in?’

  ‘Sure. Thanks.’

  She led him into her cramped bedsit and indicated the couch. He sat, and she pulled a stool across for herself.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he said. ‘It’s the talk of the office. I read about it online. You must have got a terrible shock.’

  ‘It was awful. I’m not the better of it yet.’

  ‘Do you need anything?’ He was wringing his hands like he was washing them.

  ‘I need to rest. That’s what the guards said.’ She’d never seen Kevin so agitated, not even when he was getting a bollocking from the boss.

  ‘Did they say anything else? The guards.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘About what happened to … to the woman in the boot.’

  ‘No, they just took my statement. Twice. I had to go to the station. They were very nice. Got me tea and a Kit Kat.’

  ‘Have they any suspects?’

  ‘Kevin, what is wrong?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘Er … the boss, Shane, he sent me to see if you were holding up okay.’

  Karen got off the stool and sat beside him. ‘You and I both know Shane doesn’t give a shit about me. But I’m glad you do.’

  She flinched when he edged away from her. ‘It’s not like that, Karen. I swear.’

  ‘Oh, so now you don’t give a shit about me either?’

  ‘You’re twisting my words.’

  She stared at him, seeing stark terror written like a quotation in his eyes. ‘I’m not going to jump you like you jumped on me at that conference last year. Did you ever tell Marianne about that?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Karen.’ He struggled to stand up from the low couch. When he did, he towered over her. ‘Tell me what the guards are thinking about that body.’

  ‘What are you really after?’

  ‘Information. There might be an insurance claim. She was found in a car insured by us. I checked it, and Shane is worried.’

  ‘Like fuck he is.’ She followed Kevin to the door, noticing the sweat colouring his white shirt orange.

  ‘If you think of anything that struck y
ou as suspicious or if you remember any information the guards let slip, tell me first. I need to be ready for any claim that lands on my desk.’

  Before she could reply, he was out the door and driving off with a screech of tyres and a spurt of smoke from the exhaust. She wondered if he’d forgotten to take off the handbrake.

  She went over the frantic conversation in her head. Something Kevin had said struck her as odd. She scrolled through social media and the news app on her phone.

  The guards had instructed her not to talk to anyone about what she had found. Everyone at the scene had been told it was important to remain silent for operational reasons. And nowhere online or on the news did it say the body was that of a woman. How then did Kevin know?

  In her handbag, she found the inspector’s card. She felt a loyalty to Kevin because she liked him and they’d slept together, albeit just the once, but then when had he ever shown her any loyalty in return? She should really call the detective to tell her about Kevin’s visit, shouldn’t she? Then she remembered her phone was in bits. She’d have to get it repaired or buy a new one. Later.

  Lying down on the couch, she pulled the soft throw up to her chin. The room suddenly felt ice cold.

  Thirty-Nine

  The traffic in the town was bedlam. The buses couldn’t get into the station car park, so with nowhere else to go, they lined up along the green area at the shopping centre, causing a jam. Lottie’s mood hadn’t improved by the time she arrived at the office. She was angry with Kirby because he’d scuttled off to the smoking pagoda to catch a few puffs of his cigar. She was angry with Boyd for not resting more. She was angry with Tamara for putting her own interests before the safety of her son and his friend. She was angry, full stop.

  She called Lynch and McKeown to follow her and to bring the relevant uniformed officers with them. In the incident room, she tried to pull her thoughts back to before she’d left to go with Boyd.

  ‘Has the train station CCTV been checked yet?’

  ‘Yes,’ McKeown said. ‘I took over when Kirby left with you. We can see the car being driven in around eleven p.m. It’s bad quality and we’re trying to get the images enhanced.’ He passed her a print. ‘A man getting out of the car. Throwing the keys on the seat and closing the door. He walks away. CCTV doesn’t pick him up at the railway bridge, so we think he walked the other way, down towards the industrial estate. The Hill Point apartments are over there. There could have been someone waiting for him. God knows where he went.’

  ‘I don’t care if God knows or not; I want to know.’ Lottie stared at the blurry image. Useless. ‘It could be a man. It could be a woman. It could be a fecking alien.’

  ‘Don’t think it’s an alien,’ Lynch said drily.

  McKeown cut in again. ‘We’re running through our own camera footage and I’ve canvassed the businesses in that area. We’re gathering their videos. There’s no CCTV at Faye’s apartment so we can’t see when the car was moved. A lot of the CCTV around town either doesn’t work or it’s just dummy cameras.’

  ‘Tell me something I don’t know,’ Lottie said.

  Lynch said, ‘We’re knocking on doors in her apartment block to check if anyone saw anything around that time last night.’

  ‘Any idea where she was taken from and to? We know she wasn’t killed in the car.’

  ‘Her flat has been searched. It’s clean. No sign of her phone or handbag. No signs of a struggle.’

  ‘Jeff Cole says he went to Cafferty’s. Has anyone checked if that’s true?’

  ‘I’ll get on it,’ Lynch said, and stood.

  ‘Sit down until we’ve finished,’ Lottie snapped, and then took a deep breath. ‘Sorry. Bad day.’

  ‘No problem.’

  ‘We know she left here at eight thirty last night. Where did she go if she didn’t go back to the flat? She was walking. What route did she take?’

  ‘I’ll check that,’ McKeown said.

  ‘Let me know as soon as.’ She paused to order her thoughts. ‘Anything from forensics on the car?’

  Kirby bustled in, preceded by the odour of cigar smoke. ‘Her bag and phone were under the body.’

  ‘See if there’s anything on the phone. Calls or texts that might tell us how she ended up dead. She must have been picked up off the street. Has she any friends we can check with?’

  ‘I’ll ask Jeff,’ Kirby said. ‘We’re still holding him.’

  ‘We really don’t have anything on him, do we?’ Lottie said.

  ‘He hasn’t asked to leave.’

  ‘If he knows something, maybe he feels safer here.’ She frowned, wondering about the young man and the house he had inherited. She’d have to have another run at him soon.

  ‘Don’t think I’d feel safe here with the mood today,’ Lynch said under her breath.

  ‘What’s your problem, Detective Lynch?’ Lottie said.

  ‘Nothing.’ Lynch flipped through a file, clearly not one bit sorry.

  ‘Anything else to report from Church View?’ Lottie said.

  ‘The skull has to be connected to the body parts found in the canal and on the railway,’ McKeown said. ‘Could it be some kind of satanic ritual?’

  ‘We know nothing until we get results from the lab, so don’t speculate and definitely not outside these four walls. There’s a media scrum at the front door already.

  ‘“Satanic ritual in Ragmullin”. Can you imagine?’ Lynch said.

  Lottie ignored her. ‘I’ll check with the state pathologist to see if she’s linked the skull to the torso. Anything else?’

  ‘The axe has been sent for analysis,’ McKeown said. ‘Luminol showed up blood residue. Could be animal, but more than likely human. I’ll let you know when results are in.’

  Lynch looked over his shoulder at his iPad. ‘Any freezers at Church View?’

  ‘No,’ he said.

  ‘Any progress on the warrant for Walsh’s shop?’ Lottie said.

  ‘I’m working on it,’ Kirby said.

  Lottie turned to the photos on the board. ‘There’s a wooden post lying flat on the grass in the garden. Has anyone had a look at it?’

  ‘It’s a For Sale sign. Ferris and Frost estate agents,’ McKeown said.

  Lottie thought about it. ‘Faye and Jeff were going to sell the house and then Jeff changed his mind. What else have we?’

  Lynch flicked through the file again and took out a small evidence bag. ‘You asked me to oversee the collection of rubbish and litter from the area where the torso was found. Well, we found something.’

  ‘Go on.’ Lottie hoped it was a clue, because so far they had fuck all.

  ‘It’s all recorded, where everything was picked up and that. I’m glad to say there wasn’t a whole lot. The anti-litter message must be getting through at last.’

  ‘What did you find?’

  ‘It might be nothing,’ Lynch said with a glint in her eye.

  ‘For Christ’s sake, spit it out,’ Kirby said.

  ‘It’s a doctor’s card. You know, the one where they write in the date of your next consultation.’

  ‘And?’ Lottie ground her nails into her palms.

  ‘It’s a consultant called Mr Saka. Tullamore Hospital.’ Lynch handed her the card in its evidence bag.

  ‘The name of the patient isn’t on it, and neither is the date or time of an appointment.’

  ‘I know. But if the killer dropped it, or the person who transported the body, it might be something.’

  Lottie thought of Charlie Sheridan and his quick exit from the hospital earlier. She squinted at the card. ‘Or it could belong to someone who lives locally. Check Mr Saka’s speciality. If he’s in gynaecology, it might be linked to Faye, but she would have no reason to be at that area of the canal. I’ll ask Jeff. Then again, I saw Charlie Sheridan in Tullamore Hospital today. I’ll talk to him too. He lives near the canal.’

  ‘Jack’s dad?’ Kirby said.

  ‘Yes. And Lynch, run a check on Tamara Robinson while you’r
e at it.’ Grasping at straws came to mind as she added, ‘The missing persons files; have you found anything yet, McKeown?’

  ‘I’m cross-eyed looking at PULSE, and I’ve checked likely cases against the physical files. I discovered that not everything was transferred onto the database when it was set up. I’m still searching. I’ll let you know if I find something.’

  They would have to send Jeff Cole home. The barman in Cafferty’s recalled him. Said he left sometime after closing time. They had evidence he’d slept in his own apartment. Nothing to show he’d picked up Faye and murdered her somewhere. They still had more CCTV to peruse and people to interview. But for now, Lottie had no reason to detain him.

  She opened the cell door. He was sitting on the bench, cross-legged, facing the wall.

  ‘You can go home, Jeff. We’ve searched your apartment and it’s clear. But you can’t go near your aunt’s house.’

  ‘It’s mine.’

  ‘It’s a crime scene.’

  She watched as he slowly turned, uncrossed his legs and stretched them out. He clutched the edge of the bench, his head drooping forward.

  ‘Was that where Faye was killed?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  ‘Because it was already sealed off. Faye was last seen leaving here after giving her DNA sample and fingerprints.’

  Jeff said nothing.

  Lottie leaned against the wall. She should really bring him to the interview room again and talk to him there. But if she did that, the formality might cause him to remain mute.

  ‘I want to help you, Jeff.’

  ‘Unless you can resurrect Faye from the dead, you can’t help me.’

  ‘Did Faye have a consultant at Tullamore Hospital? A Mr Saka?’

  ‘No, she was attending her own GP and Ragmullin Hospital.’

  ‘Right. Where do you think she might have gone last night, if not back to your apartment? Had she any friends or acquaintances you’re aware of?’

  ‘Only the girls she works with. She never socialised with them.’

  ‘If she was angry with you, who would she talk to?’

  ‘She wasn’t angry with me,’ he snapped.

  ‘But you had argued with her when she suggested reporting the skull.’