Page 31 of The Altar Girls

Ruth’s composure seemed to wobble as she bit her lip and nodded. ‘Go ahead, please.’

Slowly the child’s angelic face was revealed. She looked as peaceful as when Lottie had first set eyes on her last night. Jane had been careful, leaving no evidence of her work.

‘It shouldn’t be Naomi,’ Ruth said, her voice barely a whisper, ‘but it is my little girl. She looks so different. God has taken her into His fold and she is at peace. I want to go home, Inspector.’ With that, she turned and walked out of the room.

No tears. No rushing forward to touch her daughter. Cold and impersonal. But Lottie had seen many manifestations of grief in her time, and this was normal. If anything could be normal in such circumstances.

23

The more Lottie thought about the death of Naomi Kiernan, the more she wondered if it had something to do with the family being overly religious. To her, they seemed to be on the edge of fanaticism. Naomi had been in the children’s cathedral choir and her body was found on the grounds, dressed in a white robe with a sheet of music for a Christmas carol clasped in her hands. So was it a religiously motivated crime? Or had it to do with the little girl’s father in prison?

But then there was the disappearance of Willow Devine. The two had to be linked and that meant they must find the missing girl before it was too late. First, though, she had to travel the fifty kilometres to Shamrockhill prison to talk with Isaac Kiernan. She was also dodging Superintendent Farrell’s press briefing.

She met Andrew Egan, the prison governor, in his office.

‘Isaac took the news in silence,’ Egan said. ‘Not a word or a cry. Asked to be allowed to go back to his cell straight away.’

‘Have you had any trouble with him since he’s been here?’

‘Not a bit. He’s a model prisoner, if there is such a thing. You have the warrant?’

‘Yes, and an application is being made to the high court for him to be released on bond. His family need him.’

‘I’m not so certain about that.’

‘What do you mean?’

Egan grimaced. ‘Have your talk with him. I’ll get an officer to bring you to the interview room.’

She took a seat at a small table in a large square room. White walls added to the starkness. A prison officer took up sentry inside the door when Isaac entered.

The dead girl’s father was a small, wiry man. He seemed to bounce on the balls of his feet as he crossed the floor with his hand held out. The shake was firm and she indicated for him to sit.

‘An inspector, no less. I am honoured.’ His green eyes were a mirror of her own, though his were sorrowful. His skin was pale, probably from lack of sunlight, and his hair was fair, in stark contrast to the rest of his family.

‘Isaac, I am sorry that you’ve had such bad news. My sincere condolences.’

She didn’t think his skin could get any paler, but it was like a white sheet had slipped over his face.

‘My daughter did no one any harm. What are you doing to find who did this to her?’

‘It’s our number one priority.’

She was struggling to speak. This man had no support system around him. He was alone in a sea of strangers. She hoped the governor had been gentle with him when he’d broken the news.

His hands clenched into fists on the table before he lowered them to his lap and bowed his head as if in prayer.

‘What happened to her?’

‘Your daughter’s body was discovered around eight o’clock last night. She was murdered.’

He raised his dry eyes, ran his tongue around the inside of his cheek and swallowed. ‘I’ve been told that, but not much else. How did she die?’

‘She sustained an injury to the back of her head. Death would have been instant.’

‘Where was she found?’

‘In the grounds of Ragmullin Cathedral.’