Page 114 of The Altar Girls
‘I’ll get a car to drive by Kiernans regularly.’ She yawned, pulled her sleeves down over her hands and picked at a thread with her teeth. Eventually she said, ‘I’d do it if it wasn’t for my mother. If only Boyd was here.’
‘Any sign of him coming back?’
‘Radio silence. I’m praying he finds Sergio. Alive.’ She filled him in on what she knew.
‘I’m a bit miffed he didn’t confide in me,’ Kirby said.
‘He didn’t even confide in me, so don’t get your knickers in a twist. Check in with that Detective Duncan in Ballina in the morning if Boyd is still off the radar.’
‘Right so.’ Kirby made a note of it. ‘Do you think Alfie killed those girls or do you think he’s in trouble?’
‘He’s in trouble all right, and I don’t know what to think. Both scenarios are too horrible to contemplate. Either he killed the girls and was about to do the same to Bethany but something or someone stopped him. Or the killer has him.’
‘I really think we need to search the funeral home, boss. We should get a warrant. It’s close to the cathedral, and those footprints…’
‘You know what, Kirby? I agree. And we never found the girls’ school bags or clothes, and Maurice Connolly has an incinerator on site.’ As she moved to leave, she added, ‘I’ll see about that warrant.’
Lottie drove out of the station yard and idled the engine before exiting onto the road. The cathedral spires loomed up into the dark sky like two horns ready to butt the clouds. It made her think of the two sets of footprints. She visualised where they had ended. Up to her left stood Connolly’s Funeral Home. The search warrant was delayed because the judge had asked for further clarification. Questions stormed her brain. Had Maurice Connolly taken Alfie? Could the boy be in there now? Was he even alive? Was she losing it?
She put in a call to Superintendent Farrell.
‘Parker, do you know what time it is?’
She hadn’t a clue. ‘I was working until now. I’m just leaving the station.’
‘Get some rest. Whatever it is, it can wait until morning.’
‘We need that search warrant for Connolly’s Funeral Home. The missing boy, Alfie Nally, could be there.’
‘And what logic do you base that on?’
‘There are footprints in the snow where Bethany was found. They’re being checked out further by SOCOs, but that takes time. They might be Alfie’s and Maurice Connolly’s. His premises is close by.’
‘Last I heard, you thought the boy’s mother was involved.’
‘She could be, but we need that warrant.’
‘I’ll deal with it first thing in the morning.’
‘It might be too late then.’
‘Go home, Inspector Parker.’
The line went dead.
* * *
Julian Bradley clenched and unclenched his fists, stretching out his fingers. He felt like poking his own eyes out.
He’d spent an hour writing up a new report on the Kiernans, voicing his concerns. Sometimes you had to take matters into your own hands.
He’d taken ages reading confidential files. Some of what was documented he thought the public should know about. He had already talked to the Healy woman, but it seemed she hadn’t seen fit to reveal it. Isaac Kiernan had been released from prison. That man had thumped his jaw, totally unprovoked, so Julian wasn’t about to hand over anything that would cost him his job, though it would be a good diversion tactic.
He stood outside his temporary office, an unlit cigarette in his mouth, looking at his surroundings. He was amazed at how close the garda station was to the cathedral where the body of a little girl had been found.
A car came out of the station car park, stopped for some minutes. The internal light came on and he could see it was the inspector. He shrank back into the shadows as she idled the engine. She was on a mobile. The call didn’t last long, because she snapped off the light and floored the car, skidding out onto the road. He watched the tail lights disappear down Bishop Street.
‘What’s that all about?’ he mumbled, and lit his cigarette with a final glance at the sky.
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