Chapter 53

53

Lottie sat in the incident room beside Boyd and Kirby. She related the conversation she'd had with Brenda Morgan.

‘Do we know if John did any jobs on the side?' Boyd asked. ‘Maybe he'd worked on someone's house extension or something for cash in hand. And if it wasn't up to standard, perhaps he was killed because of it.'

‘That's quite extreme,' Lottie said.

‘People murder for a lot less,' Boyd countered.

Lottie tapped her finger on the desk. ‘Is there anything to connect John Morgan's murder to that of the two women?'

‘Can we even link the two women's deaths to each other at this stage?' Kirby said.

‘We need the post-mortem report on the latest woman.' Lottie stood and stretched, arching her back. ‘If the weapon used was the same in both instances, then we can link the murders. We should look into their personal lives to see if they're connected in any way.'

‘We don't even know who the second woman is,' Boyd said, ‘so there's no way we can investigate connections between the two.'

‘Then we'd better identify her quickly.' Someone had pinned the victim's death mask photo to the board. Lottie studied the emaciated face, while speaking over her shoulder. ‘What about missing persons?'

‘I had a quick look by inputting her description,' Boyd said. ‘But it's vague, and nothing pinged back at me. She doesn't look familiar to me anyhow.'

‘Nor to me,' Kirby said.

‘Maybe we should show her photo to Laura's mother,' Lottie said. ‘She might recognise her.'

‘If she was local and missing for some time, we'd have known about her.' Boyd was at his obstructive best today.

‘We have to exhaust all avenues,' she countered.

‘Right then, I'll send it to Garda Brennan and she can ask Diana Nolan.'

‘Tell her it's sensitive. We don't want to freak Diana out.'

‘As if the murder of her daughter hasn't already done that.' Boyd shoved back the chair and left the room.

‘What's eating him?' Kirby asked.

‘God only knows.'

Lottie continued to study the dead girl's photo. She was so raw-boned she could have been twelve. It was strange that there was not one iota of information about her. From Jane's preliminary examination at the scene, she'd reported that the woman had possibly been restrained and starved. Why hadn't she been reported missing? Shannon Kenny was missing a few hours and already her brother had been in.

She leaned closer and whispered to the photo, ‘Who are you? Why has no one missed you?'

Diana Nolan bit at the skin tag on her thumb. She tapped a foot on the floor and tried not to scream. The young garda was so annoying. Constantly making tea and sandwiches. Diana had no idea where the bread or milk was coming from, because Martina never seemed to leave the house.

She wanted to go out in the fresh air without having to make up a bloody excuse. Another day cooped up with nothing but memories of Laura everywhere was sure to send her stark raving mad.

Feck it. She ran downstairs, grabbed her coat from the hook and wriggled into it. Once she had her grandson zipped up in his, she stuck her head into the kitchen.

‘Martina, I'm taking Aaron out for a walk. He needs air. We need a break.'

‘I'll go with you.' The garda must have seen the cloud travel over Diana's face, because she added, ‘If you want me to?'

‘I don't mean to be rude, but I need a break from you as well. Won't be long. And really, I think you'd be better off back at the station helping with the investigation. You'd be more useful there than making unwanted cups of tea here.'

‘If you don't mind waiting for a moment?' Martina had her phone in her hand. ‘I want to show you a photograph. It's sensitive.'

Diana felt her stomach roil. ‘Show me.'

‘I must warn you, it's a photograph of a dead woman.'

‘Do you think she's connected to Laura?' Diana felt her heart race in her chest.

‘I just need you to look at it if you can and?—'

‘It can't be any worse than viewing the body of my own poor girl.' Diana gulped and closed her eyes momentarily before taking the phone from Martina. When she opened them, she glanced down. Her heart rate quickened. She shook her head quickly and handed the phone back.

‘Do you recognise her?'

Diana couldn't answer. After another head shake, she took Aaron's hand and the stroller from the hall and was outside before the guard could object.

She strapped him in securely and set off, walking briskly. She had no destination in mind; she just wanted to be away from the cloying memories and the thought that Laura's death was all her fault. And then there was that photograph. Dear God, what had happened to her? She pushed it to the back of her mind. She had to think of her own situation first.

It hadn't always been just her and Laura and Aaron. No. As she walked, she felt tears flood her eyes. Memories she'd hidden so deep she had almost forgotten them began to resurface. But here she was back in Ragmullin, and she'd lost Laura. Her daughter had grown into a beautiful, intelligent, vibrant young woman. And somehow even though she knew it was her fault, she couldn't help blaming him . If he'd taken responsibility all those years ago, she wouldn't have had to leave then. Why had she ever come back to this godforsaken place?

‘Can I get some sweets in Tesco?'

The little voice broke through her reverie. Wiping away her tears, she leaned over and gripped his hand. ‘Sure, Aaron. We can get all the sweets you want.'

She would have to leave everything behind. She'd done it before and she knew what she had to do now.

First, though, she needed a plan.

With nothing yet on the second dead woman, Lottie decided to do what she could about John Morgan.

She called the landline number Brenda had given her for her ex-husband's work in Australia. She was put through to his boss, who confirmed that Christy Morgan was indeed on site and gave Lottie his mobile number.

‘I heard about his son. Awful business.'

‘How is Christy taking it?'

‘Badly. I didn't want to let him work, but he assured me it was best to keep busy. He said he'll need time off when the funeral is organised.'

‘I'll contact him later. Thank you.'

When she hung up, Lottie wondered where to turn to next. Gordon Collins maybe. The site manager, Patrick Curran, had been cleared, but she still had to talk to Collins herself.