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SOCOs had been given free rein in the Wilson house, Mooney noted when he returned. The other detectives had retreated to the incident room in HQ to assess what they had. Mooney preferred to be hands-on. The niggle he’d felt about Imelda having the Wilson house keys had flared into a full-blown rash. Though his skin wasn’t red or itchy, he still found himself scratching his arms under the protective clothing.

He examined the locks on the doors, now blackened with forensic dust, but found no evidence of forced entry. He’d already known that, but no harm to double-check. He could do with having Lottie Parker here with him. She was a shrewd detective and her investigative prowess was renowned, but she was a bit of a loose cannon. He was lucky to be allowed in himself, so having her around was a non-runner.

In the kitchen, SOCOs had found hidden at the back of a cupboard a prescription bottle for Ann containing five anti-anxiety pills. The script was for six. What good were six pills? He backed out and entered the living room.

He went to the drinks trolley. The whiskey bottle was three quarters full. Was there an empty bottle somewhere? Looking through the cabinets, he found no more alcohol. In the utility room he noticed two bins, one for rubbish, one for recycling. Nothing of interest in either, the SOCO told him. On the counter beside a basket of washed laundry there were two empty wine bottles. No whiskey bottle. And he was informed that SOCOs hadn’t removed any bottles.

Had Denis lied? Possibly. But why? That was the question burning a hole in his brain as he looked around for Ann’s door keys. In the hall on a pottery dish he saw a single Toyota car key. She drove a Toyota. No house key. SOCOs had not come across it either.

There were too many things not making sense right now and he had few answers to his questions. The one thing he knew forsure was that last night Imelda Conroy had had Ann Wilson’s phone. She’d made a call to Lottie Parker. They needed to locate that phone.

He called the office and organised a young garda, dubbed a computer nerd, to do whatever he needed to do to find the phone. It might just lead him to the elusive Imelda Conroy, which in turn might give him the answers he craved.

Then again, Imelda had phoned Lottie, so maybe he should talk to the inspector again.

That thought did not fill him with the joys of life.

79

Lottie listened with mounting doubt as Robert told his story in halting words. Was he reinventing the past to suit his present situation? She had no option but to hear him out. After all, he was the one holding the knife.

‘You see,’ he said, ‘when that Kirby detective told me Edie’s body had been found blistered and scalded, it brought me right back to the laundry and what had happened that fateful day.’

‘That’s because you made it happen,’ Imelda said.

‘Do you want to hear about it or not?’

‘Go on,’ Lottie said, throwing Imelda a look to keep a lid on it. Imelda’s cheeks flared but she remained mute. Thank God.

‘I wondered if someone was sending me a warning. Or taunting me. I thought it had to be someone who knew what had happened. That made me think of Assumpta. Beautiful, young and bubbly. She had told me what the girl’s body looked like when they took her out. Blistered and scalded. That tragedy in the laundry soured our friendship.’

‘You had a relationship?’ Lottie asked quietly, not sure if interrupting him would make him stop or continue.

‘It wasn’t a relationship. She was too devout for that. But she caused me to have thoughts about leaving the priesthood evenbefore I was properly ordained. I was a deacon, a chaplain, but only a few years in the seminary.’

‘But the events of that day did not make you leave the priesthood, you fucker,’ Imelda said.

‘Stop! For God’s sake, stop.’ He raised the knife, pointing it at her, his eyes even darker now, his complexion wan. Lottie sensed he was at his most dangerous when challenged. Not good.

‘You locked a tiny defenceless child in a washing machine.’ Imelda smothered a sob.

He sighed and ran his free hand over his eyes. ‘I was compelled to do it. You wouldn’t understand that. When I next saw Assumpta, she attacked me. Fists flying. But her verbal assault was worse than anything physical.’ He lapsed into silence.

‘What did she say to you?’ Lottie pressed.

‘She told me she had recorded the whole incident in her notebook. That’s when I told her the truth. But it was no good. She said that if I ever came back to the convent, she’d destroy me.’

‘And did you go back?’

‘She left soon after. I still had to do my chaplain duties. But she was gone and I was heartbroken. Years later, I met Edie. I realised that she’d been there that day too. She believed me when I told her how I was forced into the act. You see, she already knew the man who’d forced me.’

Lottie had been thinking Hayes had meant a higher force, not a human one. This was interesting. ‘Who was he?’

‘I can’t say.’

She’d had enough of his reminiscing and lies. ‘I heard that you ferried young girls over to Knockraw. That you and others abused them.’

‘What? No, that was not me.’