Chapter 102

102

Lottie gathered the team in the incident room and fetched Superintendent Farrell.

‘There's a strong smell of smoke in here,' Farrell said, loosening the elastic on her tie and taking a seat at the front of the room.

‘I was with Gordon Collins at the fire and then spoke with him at the hospital,' Lottie said. ‘I received word that he's having an operation on one of his hands and I haven't had a minute to pee, never mind wash myself or change my clothes. Boyd smells worse.'

He sniffed his sleeve.

Farrell blanked him. ‘Hopefully we can wrap things up soon and find Shannon Kenny. Alive. We have enough grieving families. What had Mr Collins to say for himself?'

‘Without beating around the bush,' Lottie said, ‘he claimed Aneta Kobza was his daughter.'

A cacophony of oh and what the fuck? went up among the team.

‘And?' Farrell said, the only one in the room nonplussed.

Lottie detailed the conversation she'd had with Collins.

‘He was paying Aneta to stay in Poland after someone informed her he was her father. But she still came to Ireland searching for her mother. I suspect Diana Nolan may be her mother, because of the old birth cert I found in her house. It names a girl, Magenta McCabe, born thirty years ago. It has to be Aneta who was then adopted. The mother's name on the cert is Christine McCabe. Diana could have used a fictitious name.'

Boyd said, ‘Someone didn't want Aneta to find her birth mother. It's hard to get a handle on it.'

McKeown held up the old photograph taken outside a building and the one of John Morgan. ‘These two photos were in Aneta's possession. They must be key.'

‘But why would she have John Morgan's photo?' Kirby asked.

‘According to Charlie Lennon,' Boyd said, ‘John Morgan was Collins's protégé. Maybe whoever sent it to Aneta wanted to point her in that direction.'

‘But Aneta knew Collins was her father,' Lottie said.

‘You're right.' Boyd conceded. ‘Was someone jealous of the attention John got from Collins?'

‘All three victims had a connection, however flimsy, to Pine Grove,' Lottie said. ‘As did Shannon Kenny.'

‘And all are tied to Cuan.' McKeown pointed to the old group photo. ‘Gary worked on this photo, and I've determined that it definitely has a younger Gordon Collins and Diana Nolan in it. Maybe we should try to trace the others.'

‘Hold on a minute.' Superintendent Farrell got up to examine the photo. ‘That's Irene Flood. She married a Dunbar from Athlone. I played golf with her.'

‘She runs Cuan rehab now.' Lottie felt a rush of excitement. ‘We'll interview her again. She might be able to shed more light on the photo.'

‘If she's not involved herself,' Boyd said. ‘She's slippery as an eel.'

‘We need to find Diana,' Lottie said. ‘Last known to have been left at the train station by a taxi.'

‘Talking of taxis,' McKeown said, ‘I've contacted all the taxi firms in town and no one remembers picking up Laura Nolan last Thursday night.'

Garda Brennan raised her hand. ‘What was the upshot on the page with the name Maggie found by SOCOs at the lane?'

‘It's been sent to the lab but we may wait awhile for DNA results. We got very little from the school. A warrant is being drawn up to get the girl's full name and address.'

‘She could be crucial,' Kirby said.

‘Or she could be nothing to do with anything,' McKeown said.

‘Will you give over?'

‘I want answers, not speculation,' Superintendent Farrell snapped. ‘Have you got hard facts or evidence?'

‘Apologies in advance, but I've more speculation,' Boyd said. ‘The location, that field where Aneta's body was dumped, bothered me. Rex's parents once owned a house in that area. They're in a constant battle with Collins over the state of the house they now live in…'

‘Where are you going with this?' Lottie asked, surprised. This was the first she'd heard of it.

‘I drove to their old house earlier. A rectory that's now a bloody barbican. Huge sliding gates with an intercom. Totally surrounded by trees and ten-foot walls. Garda Lei, did you find out who owns it?'

‘I searched the electoral register, but no one is listed at that address. Then I checked the property register. Bingo. It's in the name of GC Construction.'

‘Gordon Collins,' Lottie said. ‘Did he buy the house from the McGovern family? He doesn't live there, so who does?'

‘No way of finding out unless we knock on the door,' Boyd said. ‘If we can get to the door, that is.'

‘We could ask Collins,' Farrell said.

Lottie said, ‘Don't know when he'll be fit enough to interview and we haven't time to wait. I'll head out to this rectory with Boyd.'

‘Hold on.' Farrell's tone was stamped with authority. ‘What has that house got to do with anything?'

‘It's two kilometres from where Aneta's body was found,' Boyd countered. ‘She was missing for a year, though no one realised it. A secluded, fortified house like that is as good a place as any to hide someone away.'

‘Conjecture.' Farrell wasn't backing down. ‘Didn't I say I want facts and evidence?'

‘With all due respect,' Lottie said, ‘Gordon Collins seems to be slap-bang in the centre of everything so far. He told me he was in rehab thirty years ago. He fathered a child, Aneta, who was put up for adoption when she was born. He was sending her money but then she arrives here and shortly afterwards disappears. It's possible she was being held in that house.'

‘You think he killed his own daughter?' Farrell was incredulous. Lottie didn't blame her. Still…

‘If she was getting close to something he didn't want revealed…'

‘But why kill the others?' Farrell asked.

‘We've established that they all had some sort of connection to Pine Grove and they were all in Cuan at the same time last year.'

‘So were a lot of other people.' Farrell wasn't giving up.

‘Can I add something else into the melting pot?' McKeown asked.

‘You might as well.' Lottie slumped onto the nearest chair. She felt her phone vibrate in her bag by her feet. She prised the bag open with her foot and glanced at the screen. Katie. Not now, she whispered.

McKeown said, ‘I revisited the Right One database to verify the clients' alibis in person. One of the men who provided an alibi early on was not resident at the address given. Never lived there.'

‘I thought Greg Plunkett background-checked his clients,' Lottie said.

‘He said he did,' Boyd said.

‘Obviously he didn't do a good job,' McKeown said.

‘I agree it's suspicious that the man gave incorrect information.' Lottie stood, ignoring her phone, which had begun to vibrate again. ‘Maybe he has a wife and kids. However, we need to find him.'

‘That's a waste of time when we have a host of other leads to follow,' Kirby countered. ‘What's so special about this guy?'

McKeown's head reddened as he looked down at his tablet and back up again. ‘He was on a date with an escort on Valentine's night last year. And… shit. I'm only realising something now?—'

‘But—' Kirby began.

‘Aneta wasn't registered with them.' Lottie looked to McKeown to see where he was going with it. ‘Or was she?'

‘She could have faked an identity.'

‘Seems Plunkett wasn't as diligent as he claimed.' Lottie got up and paced in front of the boards, aware of Farrell scrutinising her. ‘What's the name of the girl he met?'

McKeown's face was puce now. ‘Magenta McCabe.'

‘Holy shit.' She pointed to the board. ‘The name on the birth cert I found in Diana Nolan's house.'

‘Staring me in the face.' McKeown shook his head. ‘Sorry, I fucked up.'

‘Good God,' Farrell said.

‘We need to—' Lottie was interrupted by a harried Garda Thornton rushing in.

‘There's another fire. Out at Doon Lake.'

‘Let the fire service deal with it.' Farrell stomped towards him, arms flapping. ‘Nothing to do with us.'

‘I think it might have.'

‘Go on, then.'

‘One of the holiday cottages is on fire. The owner says he rented it to a woman and a little boy yesterday morning.'

‘Christ,' Lottie gasped. ‘Diana and her grandson?'

‘We don't have a name…' Thornton said, backtracking.

‘Boyd, come with me.'