Page 108 of The Altar Girls

‘Maurice Connolly is quiet but always struck me as an odd sort of man, would you agree?’

‘I thought you said he was a harmless giant? We looked at him.’ But had they looked hard enough? Or was the priest deflecting her attention away from himself? Her eyebrows knitted into a line of confusion.

A knock on the door caused both of them to turn. Father Pearse rushed in, sweating, the crown of his head as red as his face where his spectacles were pressed deep into his nose.

‘I just heard about Alfie. Is it true?’

‘Depends on what you heard,’ Lottie said with a sigh.

‘That he’s dead. Murdered.’

She felt her blood run cold, despite the heat of the fire behind her.

‘What?’ She checked her phone. Nothing. ‘Where did you hear that?’

He took off his spectacles and wiped the ridge they’d left on his nose. ‘There was commotion behind the cathedral and it was all cordoned off again. Then someone, I don’t know who, said something about Alfie Nally. I assumed… Sorry, I got it wrong, didn’t I?’

Exhaling a sigh, Lottie turned to Father Maguire. ‘If you think of anything else that might help me, please phone, day or night.’

Father Pearse held the door open for her as she left, his face a picture of bewilderment. She assumed hers was the same.

66

Rose sat in Betty Coyne’s small living room. The terrace was just off Main Street, and the windows rattled every time a truck passed by. They were knitting, and Rose, knowing her mind was failing her, was amazed she could still do the most complicated Aran stitches.

‘I saw her,’ Betty said, without looking up from the small red jumper she was working on.

‘Who?’

‘The little choir girl. She’s an altar girl too.’

Rose stopped her needles clicking. What was Betty talking about?

‘You don’t believe me?’ Betty said.

‘I do, but I don’t understand.’

‘She was behind the cathedral. That girl. The little one they were talking about on the news.’

Rose tapped the side of her head with the end of the knitting needle. She was unable to recall what she’d heard ten minutes ago, let alone throughout the day.

‘Rose, I’m talking about the murders!’

‘Oh.’ Rose was still lost. Had there been a murder? Eventually she said, ‘Tell me more.’

‘I talked to that detective. She looked a bit too disorganised to be a detective, let alone an inspector.’

‘Who?’

‘Who what?’

‘Who was the detective?’

‘Can’t remember her name.’

‘Who was murdered?’

‘She was only a little thing. I only saw her, not the other girl.’