Chapter 67
Kirby had tried phoning Clarice Shaw when he discovered she wasn’t at the Canal Bar for her shift. She had told Martina she’d spent part of a night with Liam in his apartment, so he hoped she would remember something to help trace him, because no leads had turned up at his flat or office.
Kirby was on his own and didn’t care. All he wanted to do was talk to the young woman. He’d interview her out on the street if need be.
He pressed the bell a second time. Clarice didn’t appear. He put his fist to the door, and was about to knock when it swung inwards.
‘Hello?’ he called out.
He stepped over the threshold, instantly noticing the disarray. Two stools were upturned and cupboard doors hung open. Then his eyes travelled to the floor in the living space.
‘Clarice?’ He dropped to his knees. ‘Clarice, talk to me.’
There was a bump the size of a golf ball on her forehead and her T-shirt was saturated with blood, which had seeped from beneath her waistband.
He pressed two fingers to her wrist and felt a faint pulse.
He immediately called for an ambulance. Tugging a throw off the couch, he laid it on top of her.
There might be transference from her attacker to be gathered by SOCOs, but his immediate concern was to keep the young woman alive.
She groaned.
‘Who did this to you?’ he whispered.
No further sound came from her.
Two young women stabbed within a day of each other. On the one hand, Kirby cursed his luck that he was the one to find them, but on the other, he was glad he’d got to them in time. At least he hoped that was true in Clarice’s case.
He kneeled beside her, holding her hand, talking softly until he heard the sirens out on the street.