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‘It was what I had to do. I had nowhere else to go. When I was eighteen, I got out. The only skill I had learned was sewing. So that’s what I did. For the rest of my life. Every single day. My work brought me solace.’

‘How did you meet Denis?’

‘It was a friendship first, then developed into a sort of love. We have no children, before you ask. I could not bring a child into this horror of a world I grew up in.’

‘I am so sorry this has happened to you. Where is that old nun now?’

‘Long dead, and good riddance.’

‘And the other one, the novice?’

‘I’ve no idea where she is.’

‘You heard Brigid Kelly was murdered? In the house where Robert Hayes lived for a time as a priest.’

‘I heard.’

‘She was in the laundry too. Why do you think she may have been targeted?’

‘I don’t know. Isn’t that the guards’ job to find out?’ Ann opened the car door. ‘Goodbye, Lottie.’

Lottie felt immense guilt at having pressed the woman for her story. She now knew why Ann detested Bryan. Because he did not try to find his little sister. But was there something more? Could Bryan be the killer Mooney sought? Was he avenging his sister’s death? If so, he’d have to have known what had happened to her. She was confused, but she’d still put her money on Robert Hayes.

60

On the drive back to the house, Lottie thought of all the questions she should have asked Ann Wilson. What did she know of Assumpta Feeney, Brigid Kelly and Mickey Fox back in the day? And did she know Edie Butler? Ann could shine a light on their roles in the convent. The laundry. The hellhole. She would have to tell Mooney, and it was up to him to ask the pertinent questions. After all, she was not involved in the actual investigations. Then again, she had inadvertently become embroiled in it. Boyd would have something to say, but she could handle him. He never stayed mad for long.

As she pulled up in the yard, she noticed a familiar car parked out front. She rushed round the side and into the kitchen.

‘Look what the cat dragged in,’ she said, instantly happy to see Kirby sitting at the table, a mug of steaming coffee in his hand.

‘Hello there, boss. There’s been a development in my case and that brought me here in person.’

Grace was sitting beside him. ‘He’s telling me all about how Sergio is getting on with Amy. You know, Detective Kirby, you and Amy need to have children of your own. Have you been doing anything about that?’

Lottie smiled at the young woman’s directness, a trademark of Grace Boyd.

Kirby’s mouth dropped open, but he quickly recovered. ‘Ah, no kids. Not yet. We’re not long enough together to be making such plans. You know yourself.’

‘I don’t know,’ Grace said.

Reddening, Kirby said, ‘It’s early days.’

‘You must make an honest woman of her soon, Detective Kirby.’

Lottie cringed at the old-fashioned mindset. It was easy to forget that Grace was only in her mid thirties. She’d lived with her mother, just the two of them, isolated for too many years after Boyd had left to join the guards.

‘I’ll chat to you in a minute, Kirby,’ she said. ‘I need to have a word with Boyd first. Is he upstairs? I’ll go see him.’

Grace stood and picked up her own mug. ‘That will be difficult. He isn’t here.’

‘Out with Bryan, is he?’

‘No, he’s gone to Ragmullin,’ Grace said. ‘And he better be back for my wedding. He has to give me away.’

‘But…’ Lottie struggled. ‘Why?’

Grace tutted. ‘He said he wanted to go see Sergio.’