Page 126 of Three Widows

Lottie’s nose quickly became accustomed to the rancid odour, and she placed a finger on the woman’s throat, leaning down to hear if there was any breath.

A faint pulse.

‘She’s alive! Ambulance. Paramedics. Quick! Now!’

‘Who is it?’ Boyd said after he’d shouted back for Garda Lei to radio for the required assistance. The SOCOs had retreated to give them space.

‘It’s not Helena or Orla. It must be Amy Corcoran. Give me your jacket.’

She took it from him and covered the woman’s nakedness. Her intention was to give her heat. She knew she was committing the ultimate sin of contaminating evidence, but her first aim was to save a life.

‘Her eyes…?’ Boyd whispered.

‘No blood there.’ She carefully lifted one eyelid. ‘Thank God. We need the paramedics! We can’t let her die. And keep Kirby out of here.’

‘Too late.’ Her burly detective seemed to shrink within the beam of light as he dropped to his knees beside her.

‘Is it…?’ She was unable to continue.

‘It’s Amy,’ he whispered.

‘Please leave her to me, Kirby. I’ll take care of her, but you need to leave.’

He reached out a gloved hand and touched Amy’s brow. Then he raised himself from the floor, leaning on Lottie’s shoulder. He squeezed it, and was gone.

‘Kirby,’ she called after him. ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’

* * *

Lynch was pissed off at being left behind while the others got to do active jobs outside. She had to shake off her annoyance, though, because women were missing and women were being murdered. She had to do what she could by trawling through the mounds of information on her desk. If she was diligent, she just might find the needle in the proverbial haystack.

Martina Brennan was busy with Tyler Keating’s file but looked up when Lynch banged her keyboard.

‘We’re missing something vital,’ Lynch said, frustration marking each word.

‘Tell me, what did Detective Boyd say about Kathleen Foley and Amy Corcoran?’

‘Kathleen fostered Amy as a child, and apparently Helena was insanely jealous.’

‘Could Helena be behind all this?’

‘Well, according to her mother,’ Lynch said, ‘Helena invented a son and a dog and a dead husband. Kathleen claims she might have been suffering abandonment issues following her biological father’s lack of interest and the death of her stepdad.’

‘I can’t see how having abandonment issues could lead to the murder of innocent women. But let’s keep an open mind.’

Lynch began at her keyboard again and documented everything she knew so far about Helena McCaul. She hadn’t taken on the Foley name when her mother had married. Kathleen Foley had told Boyd that Helena’s stepfather had never formally adopted her.

According to Kathleen, her daughter suffered delusions. But was that actually true? They only had the mother’s word for it. Something wasn’t sitting right with all this. Something was staring her in the face. Something she just could not see. Damn.

She went to the incident room and stared at the photos of the dead and missing women, plus Tyler Keating. Then she looked at the photos they’d added that morning of the main people of interest. Frankie Bardon, Owen Dalton, Luke Bray. Kirby had added the last guy because he worked with Amy and had allegedly harassed her at work.

That caused her to remember that she still had to follow up with Bowen Solicitors about the reason Amy had left the firm. And what about this Luke guy? She searched through her pile of notes to see if he had been interviewed. She knew Kirby had spoken to him but she couldn’t find his name anywhere. Maybe she’d missed it. But it was more likely that Kirby had failed to write it up.

79

McKeown didn’t waste any time faffing about with introductions.

‘I want a word, Mr Bray. Outside. Now.’