Page 174 of The Guilty Girl

‘Lei thinks Ivy might have left via the back gate. An oversight not to have it covered.’

‘Yeah, but we didn’t think she’d run,’ Lynch said.

‘She might’ve been taken,’ Lottie pointed out.

‘Damn it.’ Lynch looked pissed off.

‘Why haven’t we found Terry Starr and the McAllisters? Are they hiding out somewhere?’

‘Are they all in this together?’ Kirby asked.

‘I don’t know.’

McKeown was furiously tapping his iPad. ‘CCTV footage from the pub across the road from the army barracks shows what might be Terry Starr’s Range Rover heading into the barracks late yesterday evening. It was too dark later to catch if, or when, the car left again.’

‘Are SOCOs still there?’

‘They finished up fairly quickly yesterday afternoon,’ McKeown said.

‘The barracks was used as a drug den. It’s a remote possibility, but Terry might still be there. Kirby, you’re with me. Lynch, with McKeown. Whoever is behind all this is well ahead of us and I’m sick of looking like a fool.’

‘That wouldn’t be hard for you, Inspector Parker.’ Superintendent Farrell marched into the room, her tie askew and her skirt twisted like she’d rushed out the door. She was still spitting fire.

‘I was going to update you,’ Lottie said. ‘We’re about to close all three murder cases.’

‘That’s what you said yesterday.’

‘I know, but now we’re running out of time. I’ll give you my report on my return.’

‘Is that another crock of shit?’ Farrell said.

‘Ivy Jones is missing. She could be the next victim. We have to fly. Sorry.’

Lottie shooed the three detectives out the door. With her back straight, trying to appear more professional than she felt, she followed them without a backward glance. She didn’t need to see the expression on Farrell’s face. She could guess it was furious.

At the gate of the derelict barracks, Lottie issued orders to those she’d rounded up to help with the search. She checked they were all wearing Kevlar vests.

The area was vast. She ruled out the officers’ quarters at the far end because SOCOs had been there yesterday. There was the large cookhouse and the NCOs’ mess, as well as various office and housing blocks. Without adequate personnel because of the short notice, she had to be strategic in her approach.

Along with Kirby and a uniformed garda, she herself took the cookhouse. Changing her earlier plan, she now directed Lynch to go with Garda Lei to the NCOs’ mess, while McKeown and Garda Brennan would take the neighbouring block.

‘Proceed with caution,’ she advised.

The cookhouse was directly inside the main gate. Any activity here wouldn’t have been noticed by the SOCOs who had been working further down the complex. The building was the newest on the site and boasted floor-to-ceiling plate-glass windows, now boarded up. The lock on the side door was busted, and holding a finger to her lips, she stepped inside.

It was dull but not dark, a sliver of light penetrating the boarded windows. Tables and chairs were stacked at the end wall, the space before her bare.

‘Is that a light?’ she whispered to Kirby, pointing to the swing doors leading to the kitchen. A fractured streak spilled out beneath them.

‘Yeah,’ he said.

She crept forward holding her gun.

She was expecting the doors to be stiff from lack of use, and was surprised when they opened easily. The stainless-steel appliances were black with soot, and there were the remains of a burned-out fire on the floor. The drug gang kids, she suspected. Beyond the appliances was what she assumed was a large pantry.

Beckoning the others to follow, she stealthily approached the pantry door. She had no idea what she would find inside.

The door creaked inwards and she stepped inside, weapon pointed. She recoiled at the strong odour of urine, and then she gasped.