The Lost Child (Detective Lottie Parker #3)(32)

‘There’s another incident report here.’ Boyd read from the screen. ‘A car found burned out early this morning, at Lough Cullion car park.’

‘Could it be Marian Russell’s car?’

‘Don’t know.’

‘Find out. Then get everyone in for a team meeting.’



* * *



The incident room was packed within half an hour. No sign of Superintendent Corrigan. Good.

‘Let’s get this house fire out of the way,’ Lottie said. ‘Kirby, enlighten us.’

‘Cottage fire. Chief fire officer thinks it’s malicious. One dead male. Dental records will be needed to identify him. The second male is in hospital. Badly burned and minus a few fingers.’

‘Minus a few fingers? Explain?’

‘That’s all we were told.’

‘Do you think someone tried to burn the men out of the house?’ Lottie asked.

‘Hard to know until SOCOs have a look.’

Lynch said, ‘We suspect it might have been a grow house. Strong smell of cannabis above the stench of burning.’

‘Interesting. Maybe they owed money, or were skimming. Hope we haven’t got a drug feud about to explode in Ragmullin. Put someone on the injured man’s ward. Just in case.’

‘At this rate, we should all relocate to the hospital,’ Kirby said.

Lottie thought for a moment. ‘We have reports of a car burned out in the car park at Lough Cullion. It could be Marian’s. We’ll know later on.’

‘Or it could’ve been used by the scum who burned down the cottage,’ Lynch offered.

‘Why aren’t you at Kelly’s?’ Lottie said. ‘You need to relieve Garda O’Donoghue.’

‘Can’t someone else do it?’ Lynch folded her arms defiantly.

‘The FLO is still off sick,’ Lottie reminded her. She flinched as Lynch swiped her bag from the floor, cracking the strap against the desk. ‘Wait until we’re finished here, but then you’ll have to go. And remember, you’re still part of this team.’

‘Right so,’ Lynch said.

‘I need Emma watched for her own protection. Until we find out what actually happened to her mother. I’m going to have another look around the Russell house. Boyd, come with me. Kirby, find out what you can about that house fire and the occupants and investigate the car. Then we can hand it over to another team.’

‘Okay,’ Kirby said.

‘And draw up a list of Tessa Ball’s friends and interview them. Did you trace her last movements?’

‘Working on it.’

‘Do it. Also, find out if Tessa had anything to do with Belfield and Ball, Solicitors. And follow up on the gun we found at her apartment yesterday. Am I talking to myself?’

Boyd stood up. ‘Report is in on Tessa Ball’s phone. The final activity was a call she received at 21.07 on the night she was murdered.’

‘And?’ Lottie asked.

‘It was from Marian Russell.’





Twenty-Nine





SOCOs had already been all over the Russell house, and Lottie had checked around the night of the murder, but now she wanted to have another look, in daylight. It was a converted two-storey farmhouse. A narrow hallway led to the extension, which housed the kitchen. Before the kitchen, a door opened into an anonymous-looking rectangular sitting room. Brown leather three-piece suite and a long coffee table.

‘Minimalistic, isn’t it?’ Lottie said.

‘Bit bare, all right,’ Boyd said, stepping onto the teak timber floor.

Lottie moved towards the iron-framed mirror hanging over the fireplace. She looked at her reflection before quickly turning to lift a couple of paperbacks from the coffee table. John Connolly novels. Beside the books, a mug containing an inch of cold coffee displayed evidence of the SOCOs’ handiwork. A half-eaten biscuit lay beside an open packet of cookies. Traces of life, halted mid-cycle.

‘Emma said she came in here because her mother was working in the kitchen. And then Natasha called and asked her over to her house.’ Lottie opened the door of the stove insert. ‘It’s very clean, isn’t it?’

‘Compared to the carnage in the kitchen, yeah.’

Leaving the lounge, they headed up the stairs. Four rooms. One obviously belonged to Emma.

‘Typical teenager,’ Lottie said, and closed the door on the mess. It didn’t seem right to search the girl’s things. She’d been through enough already, with more heartache to come.

The next room seemed to be a guest bedroom, followed by a bathroom. In the master bedroom, Lottie inspected the contents of the wardrobe, checking the pockets of the jackets. Nothing.

The bottom two drawers of the dressing table held T-shirts and underwear. Opening the top drawer, Lottie observed sterling silver and costume necklaces with matching earrings.

‘I don’t think this was a burglary,’ she said.

Boyd was standing at the window, looking out. ‘Nice piece of land.’

Lottie closed the drawers. She joined him at the window and pointed down into the yard. ‘What’s that behind the shed?’

‘Looks like an oil tank.’

‘Don’t think so. They use solid fuel,’ she said, recalling the fire in the sitting room.