Page 64 of The Guilty Girl

‘I made a sandwich and brought it up to my room. I was starving.’

‘And after you ate your sandwich?’

‘What are you getting at?’ The tapping resumed.

McKeown paced up and down in front of the fireplace. The kid was nervous about something. ‘How did you get to the party?’

‘I walked.’

‘Alone?’

‘I was with two friends. Nigel and Barry. You can check with them.’

‘I will. So you abandoned your friends and went home with Mammy. Were they annoyed with you?’

‘Why would my friends be annoyed? They’re not seven years old.’

‘What time did they leave?’

‘How would I know?’

‘Maybe they were still there when Lucy was murdered.’

‘They weren’t, she was killed later on.’

McKeown stopped pacing and stared at Sean, whose cheeks had suddenly flared. ‘Sean, how do you know when she was killed?’

‘I … I … don’t know.’

‘It seems to me that you do. Tell me before your mother finds out from someone else.’

‘Oh shit.’ Sean sat down on the lumpy-looking couch. ‘Shouldn’t I have an adult with me for this?’

‘I can phone your mother if you want.’

He shook his head. ‘I went back.’

McKeown lit on him. ‘Back where?’

‘To Lucy’s. I’d gone home without my new leather jacket. I couldn’t sleep because I was sure Mam would go mental if she found out I’d left it behind. So I walked back to Lucy’s. There was no one around. The door was open. And I saw her … I saw her body. Oh God, she was dead.’

McKeown ran a hand over his shaved head, working hard to keep his jaw from dropping. Despite his aim to make Lottie look foolish, he felt sympathy for the boy. He sat on an armchair and folded his arms.

‘Sean, you’d better tell me everything.’

31

Kirby sourced the registration number for Richie Harrison’s van from the National Vehicle and Driver File and circulated it. A report came in from Garda Furey stating that he’d logged the same vehicle attempting to gain entry to the McAllister property earlier in the day.

Kirby relayed the news to Lottie. ‘Furey says Harrison’s wife started having contractions so he escorted them to the hospital. I phoned the hospital and Brontë Harrison is still there for observation. Wouldn’t tell me anything else.’

‘Good work. Let’s see what Mr Harrison has to say for himself.’

* * *

Lottie unbuckled her seat belt outside Harrison’s house. Sarah Robson’s revelations were still cartwheeling around her brain. Noel Glennon had catapulted to the top of the suspect list, but Hannah was the one with the bloody hands. And she was sure Sarah knew more. A clear head was needed to work it out.

‘How is McKeown’s team getting on with interviewing the partygoers?’