Page 6

‘From rolling down the bank or being pushed down it?’

‘I have no idea.’

‘How long has she been dead?’ He knew better than to ask, but he did it anyhow.

Grainne raised an eyebrow above her face mask. ‘You know right well that you’ll have to wait for that answer.’

‘When will the pathologist arrive?’

Jane Dore, the state pathologist, was based in Tullamore. Normally it was a thirty-minute drive, but with the morning traffic now backed up on the main road, it could take an extra half an hour, if not more.

‘Jane is away at a conference, so it will be the assistant state pathologist. It will take them as long as it takes,’ Grainne said. ‘I’m sorry, Kirby, but like the rest of us, you’ll have to have patience.’

He made his way back up the bank. As he divested himself of his protective gear beside the garda technical bureau van, he tried to figure out what needed to be done next. What would the boss do? Damn, why did she have to be away this week of all weeks? His mood didn’t improve when he spotted Detective Sam McKeown striding purposefully towards him.

‘You found time to join us,’ Kirby said, unable to hide his derision.

It was a known fact that the two men did not get on. Hardly anyone got on with McKeown, except for Superintendent Deborah Farrell. Because of that, Kirby was well and truly stuck with the younger, shaven-headed detective.

‘Not that I have to explain anything to you,’ McKeown said, ‘but when I heard about the body, I decided to take a quick look at the recent missing persons lists and?—’

‘We don’t know anything about her yet. You’re jumping the gun.’

‘Not entirely. A woman has been reported as missing since Friday. Fifty-three years old. The family were not unduly worried as she’s done it before, apparently. Disappeared, then reappeared after a week without explanation.’

‘What makes you think that it’s her in the river?’

‘This time she didn’t take money or belongings. One of the reasons for the report being made, apparently. Her handbag was still in the house, her coat hanging on the back of a chair and?—’

‘It’s too warm for a bloody coat in this weather.’

‘If you’d stop interrupting and let me finish…’

‘The floor is yours.’ Kirby rummaged in his jacket pocket for a cigar, then tapped his shirt pocket, without finding one. He needed something to do with his hands or he might just hit McKeown.

‘The missing woman may or may not be the person found dead here, but I thought it was suspicious enough to snap her photograph for comparison purposes. It’s your funeral if it turns out to be her.’ McKeown turned to walk away.

Kirby grabbed his sleeve. ‘Show me the photo.’

‘Now you’re interested?’ McKeown sighed, extracted his phone from his trouser pocket and tapped it.

Kirby looked at the screen.

‘Edith Butler, known as Edie. As I said, fifty-three years old. Single – maybe widowed, separated or divorced, but that’s notclear. She’s been living in Ragmullin for the last twenty-odd years. She has two sons, aged eighteen and twenty-five. The elder, Noel, reported her missing.’

‘Where are these sons now?’

‘How would I know? I only just pulled the report five minutes ago on a hunch.’

‘Email it to me.’ Kirby handed back the phone and glanced towards the river. ‘Edie Butler,’ he murmured, ‘is that you down there? And if so, what happened to you?’

5

When he returned to the station, Kirby was glad to note they had at least one piece of progress. The photo of the missing woman matched the body in the river. The fly in the ointment was McKeown, who seemed to think he was in charge.

‘Edith Butler,’ he announced. ‘Known as Edie, so we will call her that. Aged fifty-three. Two sons. The younger lad, Jerry, aged eighteen, has just completed his Leaving Cert and is in Tenerife on a holiday with his friends. Noel, aged twenty-five, works as a mechanic at Maguire’s Garage in the industrial estate. He reported her missing. The report says Edie moved to Ragmullin over twenty years ago from the west of Ireland, and?—’

‘Where from exactly?’ Kirby asked, thinking that the boss and Boyd were over west for the week and they might come in handy to delve into Edie’s background if it became necessary. Then again, he shouldn’t really bother them. This was his rodeo.