Chapter 34
McKeown drove out to Russell Avenue. The crime-scene tape surrounding the entrance to the Healy house dipped towards the puddles on the ground. Garda Lei was on sentry duty.
‘So this is where you’ve been posted,’ McKeown said.
Lei didn’t look happy to be out in the downpours of rain. ‘Someone has to do it.’
‘Dirtied your bib with the boss, have you?’
‘I think she retains that honour for you, sir.’
Laughing, McKeown signed the damp log sheet, wondering why Lottie still wanted the house cordoned off.
In the back garden he could see the damage to the lawn caused by the bouncy castle and the party kids.
He stood at the rear hedge, noting the copse of trees beyond the perimeter.
A housing estate would probably be built there at some point in the future.
For now, though, the area was peaceful. Calm.
Rain dripped from the overhanging branches onto his head.
He rooted in his pocket and pulled out a beanie hat that had seen better days.
He dragged it down over his ears and looked back up at the house.
From the crime-scene photos, he knew which window was Freya’s bedroom.
Pivoting around in the mud, he stared at the trees beyond the fence again.
The house was private and secluded. External access was via the front drive.
Continuing to gaze at the trees, he scanned his eyes around and through the branches.
Unable to find what he was looking for, he decided to go inside.
Securing the keys from Garda Lei, he entered the house via the back door, leaving his muddy shoes on the step.
An eerie stillness settled on his shoulders after the soothing nature sounds he’d experienced outside.
The hum of the fridge freezer, the intermittent tick of the large ornamental clock on the wall and…
no other sound. But he felt it. Like an evil spirit that had landed on his shoulders and threatened to crush him.
He shook it off, telling himself not to be daft.
Still, he didn’t want to spend a second longer than necessary within the walls where three people had been slain.
Upstairs, he entered Freya’s room, moving to the window and peering out.
What he wanted to do was to line up the photo taken from Freya’s room on her iPad with what was in the direct line of sight of the little girl’s window.
His gaze fell on a sturdy tree with its branches shading the garden.
Its remaining leaves fluttered in bright autumn hues.
He glanced down at the photo and then out through the window again.
That was definitely it. A fuzzy image of someone sitting in the tree who could have been looking across the garden and directly into the child’s bedroom.
So who had Freya snapped on her iPad? And why had they been there?
After Thomas had been allowed to go, with a caution directing him not to leave the area, Lottie bumped into Grainne Nixon in the corridor.
The SOCO, dressed in a navy cotton shirt and jeans, looked more human without her usual forensic-suit attire. ‘I’m afraid I don’t have the news you were expecting, Inspector.’
‘Feck. You better tell me.’
‘I’ve emailed the report to you, but unfortunately none of Thomas Clarke’s shoes match the mark on Caroline’s back.’
‘And Cam Healy’s didn’t match either.’
‘It’s not conclusive, because the bruise distorts the image. But I’m fairly certain.’
‘Well she didn’t do it to herself, so who stamped on her?’
‘No idea.’
‘It was a rhetorical question.’ Lottie saw the look that heightened the emerald in the SOCO’s eyes. ‘Sorry, Grainne. I’m just frustrated with our lack of progress. And the lace collar? Anything on it?’
‘It’s with the lab. That’s all I have so far.’
‘Did you find evidence of pills or drugs of any sort in either house?’
‘Nothing above ordinary over-the-counter meds.’
‘I have no proof, but I think the killer was at the party and brought the drugs with them. We’ll have to interview everyone again. Thanks, Grainne. Let me know if anything else turns up.’
‘Will do.’
Lottie watched the flame-haired SOCO disappear around the corner at the end of the corridor, and wished she could do the same. She was still staring at the empty space, formulating how to advance the investigation, when her vibrating mobile phone thrust her into the present.
‘Katie?’ Her daughter rarely interrupted her work day. ‘All okay?’
‘No, it’s not all okay. Not even close.’
‘Calm down and tell me what’s going on.’
‘Gran just fell down the last two steps of the stairs.’
‘What was she doing upstairs?’ Lottie leaned against the wall, phone in one hand and the other massaging her temple.
‘Mam! That’s not the point. I had to call an ambulance, and they’ve brought her to the hospital. She might’ve broken her ankle.’
Sliding down the wall, Lottie sat on the floor. She wanted to say, what do you want me to do about it? Instead, she said, ‘Are you at the hospital with her?’
‘Sure haven’t I got Louis here and I couldn’t bring him with me, could I?’
‘I’ll go to the hospital. Thanks for letting me know.’
It was as if Katie caught something in Lottie’s tone, because she said, ‘It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t bloody well push her down the stairs.’ Then she hung up.
Back at the station, McKeown sent the photo and a screen grab of the video from Freya’s laptop to Techie Gary, asking for them to be enlarged or unpixelated in some way to make them clearer.
He needed a more definite image before he brought it to the boss.
Or should he tell her now? It might turn out to be an animal of some sort and he’d be on the receiving end of office jokes until kingdom come.
He’d have to wait. He marked his request as priority.
He had another assignment later that evening, and he needed to shower and change his clothes.
He felt like there was a sheath of evil clinging to every pore of his skin, every thread of his clothing.
He didn’t have time to go home, so the locker room shower would have to do.
He kept a spare set of clothes there too.
Tomorrow he’d see what Gary had for him, and then he’d show the boss.