Page 149 of The Guilty Girl

‘The interview room is as good a place as any for me to hide.’

70

She entered the sweltering room, her hands shaking from the rush of nicotine and lack of coffee. Though she was heartbroken, she couldn’t allow her guilt over the little girl’s death to derail the entire investigation.

The solicitor, Brian Scally, a rake of a man with no hair, sat beside Cormac O’Flaherty. Scally had a wizened face like a prune. His starched shirt collar was eating into his scrawny neck. Sixty if he was a day. His navy suit, shiny from wear, rippled on his bones as he tapped a leather-covered A4 notepad with a silver pen. It could be an expensive Montblanc, but judging by the man’s attire, Lottie concluded – unfairly or not – that it was more likely a cheap imitation. That observation helped her relax.

As Kirby dealt with the formalities for the recording, Lottie studied Cormac. The lad was trying to look like he hadn’t a care in the world, sitting with one foot up on the chair, hugging his knee with both arms. He’d got rid of the zipped-up hoodie and she could see he was dressed in a short-sleeved plain black T-shirt to complement the custom-ripped jeans.

‘I’m ready to begin if you are,’ she said. ‘We’re entering a significant phase in our investigations, so I think it’s time you told me the truth.’

‘Told you all I know.’

‘Did you, though? I believe you peppered your account with untruths and left gaps in your recollection of events. The fact is, Cormac, we now have a third murder on our hands.’

‘A third?’ Scally’s eyes protruded like golf balls in his hungry-looking face.

‘A young girl was stabbed earlier today. She died on the operating table …’ Lottie paused to keep her emotions in check. She glanced at the clock on the wall, but she knew to the minute how long Sharon had been dead.

‘Can’t blame me for that. I was banged up in here.’

The solicitor nudged his client with his elbow and Cormac clamped his lips tight.

‘Do you want to know who died?’

‘Who?’

‘Just answer “no comment”,’ Scally said.

Lottie ignored him. ‘Cormac, Sharon Flood was murdered.’

He countered the flash of recognition that darted across his eyes by saying, ‘Don’t know her. No comment. That’s it. No comment.’ He dropped his leg to the floor and sat on his hands. Lottie saw a vein in his neck pulsing. The liar.

‘Sharon was Jake Flood’s little sister. Ten years old.’

She thought the solicitor paled, but the light was shite in the room so it was hard to get a proper read on him. Cormac’s face had unmistakably turned to chalk.

‘I … I don’t know who you’re talking about.’

‘You knew her brother. Jake. He’s the kid who sold you drugs at Lucy’s party. You know who I’m talking about now?’

‘So? I didn’t do anything wrong. Recreational use.’

‘We also suspect Hannah was slipped GHB. Date. Rape. Drug.’

‘News to me.’ He appeared blasé. Lottie wasn’t buying his charade, though; his hands were trembling.

‘Did you and Hannah have sex that night?’

‘That’s a no comment, son,’ the solicitor said.

Cormac picked at a spot on his forehead, causing it to bleed. ‘No comment.’

Lottie leaned in further. ‘Listen to me, Cormac. Sharon Flood was assaulted in a room at the old army barracks. Stabbed. She’d gone there to talk to whoever had engaged Jake in drug pushing. She wanted to help her mother because she believed those people would come after them next.’ Lottie gulped down her sorrow and stared at Cormac until he returned her gaze. ‘Sharon was a brave little girl. Do you think you can be as brave as her? Can you emulate her by telling the truth? Or are you a bloody coward?’

‘That’s uncalled for,’ Scally said, striking the table with his pen.

Returning her gaze to the mute Cormac, she said, ‘Are you a cowardly rapist? Is that why you’re scared to talk to me?’