Page 111 of The Guilty Girl

‘I heard something that might have been a girl screeching. I think there was a male voice too.’ He shook his head. ‘But I don’t know. I went up the back stairs and found Lucy. That’s it.’

Selfishly, she wanted more from him. ‘Did you go back into the living room?’

‘I glanced in. There were cushions on the couch and a rucksack. No jacket.’

‘Tell me about the rucksack. Can you recall what it was like?’

He closed his eyes again. ‘Blue. It was bright blue. Covered in white daisies. A bit grubby-looking.’

Lottie was glad her son was so perceptive. She was certain it was Hannah’s rucksack. She tapped the keyboard to awaken the screen. ‘I’m going to show you a photo of the living room. You okay to look at it?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Right. Now, I want you to point out where you saw that rucksack.’

Sean leaned his elbows on the bundle of files piled on the edge of her desk and studied the image. ‘It looks much the same as when I went in. But the rucksack is missing. I saw it on the couch, there.’ He pointed to the screen. ‘Did the forensic guys remove it?’

‘No.’

‘So who did?’

‘I believe I know who removed it, but what I want to discover is how and when. Thanks, Sean. This is a great help. I’ll get someone to drive you home.’ She was satisfied that it was Hannah’s rucksack Sean had seen shortly after four a.m. in Lucy’s house, and a few hours later it was at the foot of Hannah’s bed.

‘I’ll walk. I need the fresh air after reliving those awful images.’

‘I’m sorry about all this, Sean.’

‘Should have told you earlier. I hope you don’t get in trouble with your boss.’

‘I can handle Superintendent Farrell. You just need to be careful.’

‘You too.’

‘Let me know how Granny Rose is. And make sure Chloe calls MIDOC.’

‘Stop fussing. Gran will be fine. As long as Katie and Chloe don’t kill each other, we can manage. See you later on.’

As her son left her office, Lottie watched him stop and chat briefly with Kirby before he disappeared.

‘Kirby, I think it’s time we had another word with Hannah Byrne.’

52

‘You better not be here to question my defenceless child again,’ Babs said. ‘Hannah’s not well, and for your information, she never hurt that Lucy girl.’ She turned away from the door.

Lottie entered the claustrophobic room. Hannah was seated on the mattress, her legs crossed in a yoga pose, hands on her knees, eyes closed. Her hair fell in damp tendrils all around her, like a Tibetan goddess.

‘I didn’t kill Lucy.’ Her voice was as deadpan as her expression.

‘I want to ask you about your rucksack,’ Lottie said. ‘It was on the end of your bed yesterday, before we took it into evidence.’

Hannah’s eyes flew open. ‘What about it?’

‘When did you bring it home?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Her words bled into each other as she became more flustered.

‘You had your rucksack with you at Lucy’s house. It was seen on the couch in her living room at four a.m., but it was gone when forensics took the crime-scene photos later that morning. Now do you understand what I mean?’