Chapter 13
In her office, Lottie mulled over Grainne’s notes and Jane’s preliminary examination at the scene. Blood-spatter analysts cost money. Would Superintendent Farrell authorise it? All she could do was ask and hope the answer was positive.
She took on board the pathologist’s observation about the clothing on the two female victims. That detail disturbed her also.
Whatever she thought about Caroline’s outfit, Freya’s pink lacy party dress was definitely unfashionable.
Had they been forced to dress like that?
She’d ask Sadie or Caroline’s mother if the clothes belonged to the victims. If not, did it point to an outsider having killed the family?
That would indicate premeditation, meaning the Healys might have been watched for some time.
Hypothetical questions led to more questions. She had to establish the facts.
A shard of worry lodged itself in the lining of her stomach. She felt nauseous with all the unanswered questions.
Calls to neighbours and friends of Lily Clarke had revealed no sightings of the girl. The house and garden had been searched thoroughly and woodland searches were ongoing. There was no evidence of tampering with any of the locks or windows. Lily’s phone seemed to be dead. Destroyed?
She wondered if the girl’s disappearance could be linked to the murder of her friend.
It was likely. But for now she would have to organise two teams, one for Lily’s disappearance and a larger team to work the murders.
Personnel was tight, but it was imperative that she get clear evidence of what she was dealing with in relation to the Healy family.
And that might entail having an expert analyse the blood spatter.
Superintendent Deborah Farrell never suffered fools, and though Lottie was no fool, she knew Farrell regarded her as a thorn in her side. No skin off her nose, but still…
‘Where on earth do you think I can find the budget for expertise like that?’ Farrell said calmly. Too damn calm. ‘Doesn’t the evidence point to the husband doing it? Follow the clues you have, that’s if you’ve managed to find any. Don’t try to make mountains out of molehills that don’t exist.’
‘It was the state pathologist who recommended that we hire in an expert.’
‘We have our own forensic and technical teams,’ Farrell snapped.
‘Use them. I’m not authorising outside experts.
Your budget for the rest of the year is shite enough without draining it.
The media will be diving down my throat on this one, not to mention the chief super, so you better get results with what you have. ’
The longer Farrell had been in the hot seat, the more she reminded Lottie of her old boss, Corrigan. She couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not.
She returned to the incident room, head low with dejection. Seeing her team, she forced enthusiasm into her voice.
‘McKeown and Kirby, I want you two to work on finding Lily Clarke. Take Garda Brennan and a few uniforms to do the door-to-door enquiries. Get SOCOs to the Clarke house to establish if there’s evidence of an altercation.
Myself and Boyd had a good look around, but nothing jarred with us. It’s a total mystery.
‘Garda Brennan, talk to Sadie and see if you notice an undercurrent of discontent in the family dynamic. I didn’t wait around for Lily’s father, Thomas, so speak to him too.’
‘What about the Healy murders?’ Kirby said.
‘I was the first detective on site this morning and I’d rather continue on that investigation.
’ He threw a dirty eye at McKeown. Lottie knew the two detectives barely tolerated each other.
They could just get over their childishness.
She had enough headaches without babysitting the pair of them.
‘You’ll have to bridge both investigations from time to time. They’re most likely linked, if I’m being honest. I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that our budget is fecked for the remainder of the year, so we have to work with who we have on the ground.’
‘When are the post-mortems?’ Kirby asked.
‘Tomorrow morning. I’ll attend. For now, I want you and McKeown back at Clarke’s. Fill me in later on.’