The Lost Child (Detective Lottie Parker #3)(4)

‘It’s dark and wet. Why would she let her child walk home?’

‘Emma Russell is seventeen years old.’ Lottie quenched the butt between her fingertips and handed it to Boyd. He placed both butts into the cigarette packet. She added, ‘We need to find Marian Russell.’

‘Kirby’s working on it.’

‘Let’s have a look around the back yard.’

‘I’ll get McGlynn to switch on the outside light.’ He headed inside.

The rain eased slightly but still Lottie found herself sloshing in and out of puddles as she made her way around the gable of the house. The building seemed to be a converted farmhouse, but the farm was long gone. A wide hedgerow provided the boundary as far as she could see, which in the dark wasn’t far.

As she stepped into the yard, the external wall light blinked on, filling the space with an amber hue.

‘Oh my God,’ she said.

Boyd came out of the back door. ‘What did you find?’

On the ground just outside the door lay a baseball bat, blood draining from it in the rain. Beside it was an old-fashioned black leather handbag, with an open brass clasp on top, its contents spilled out onto the paving stones.

‘The weapon,’ Boyd said. ‘Someone was in a hurry.’

‘And if this isn’t Marian’s handbag, it must belong to the victim inside.’

Lottie crouched down and with gloved fingers carefully turned over a plastic card lying on the saturated ground.

‘Blood donor card. Tessa Ball,’ she said. The name sparked a recognition nerve somewhere in her brain. But at the same time, she was convinced she had never met Tessa Ball.

‘What are you doing to my crime scene?’ McGlynn stood in the open doorway, towering over her. ‘Don’t touch a thing. I need everything photographed first.’ He shouted for a tent to be erected.

‘Okay, okay.’ Lottie stood up. ‘Keep your knickers on,’ she added in a whisper.

As McGlynn approached, she sidestepped him and followed Boyd back to the front of the house.

‘We need to speak to Emma,’ she said.

‘You need to slow down,’ Boyd replied.

‘I will, when I find whoever killed that old woman.’





Four





Emma Russell’s hair hung long and limp over her shoulders. Lottie watched Emma’s eyes following her through plain-framed spectacles. A woman stood behind the girl’s chair.

‘Bernie Kelly,’ the woman said. ‘Please sit down.’

‘Thanks for taking care of Emma,’ Lottie said, sitting on the couch. She introduced herself and Boyd and said, ‘As soon as I can organise it, I’ll assign a family liaison officer. Are you okay to have a chat with us, Emma?’

Emma sat forward on the armchair, her arms hanging between her denim-clad legs, twisting a tissue round and round her fingers. She nodded.

The sitting room was small and sad, stuffed with furniture and ornaments. A coal fire blazed in the open hearth, and it seemed to Lottie as if its heat was pulling the walls in on top of them. An oil diffuser did little to lighten the smell of smoke.

‘I know you’ve had an awful shock,’ she said, ‘but it’s important for us to talk to you as soon as we can.’

‘Okay,’ Emma whispered.

‘First off, do you know a woman called Tessa Ball?’ Lottie asked. Within the last fifteen minutes they had positively identified the victim from the driver’s licence found in the handbag. And the registration plates proved the car in the drive belonged to her too.

‘She’s my granny,’ Emma said, raising her head.

‘Your granny?’ Lottie turned to Boyd. He sat forward.

‘Oh my God!’ Emma gasped. ‘That was her, wasn’t it? Lying like that… on the kitchen floor. Who would do such a thing?’

‘I’m so sorry. I didn’t know,’ Lottie said, mentally kicking herself. ‘Can you tell me what you saw?’

‘I… I don’t really know.’ Tears slipped down Emma’s cheeks. She removed her spectacles and wiped the glass with a piece of the torn tissue, then shrugged Bernie’s hand from her shoulder.

‘Are you sure you’re okay to discuss this? I’m sorry if it seems harsh, but we need to act immediately.’ Lottie felt Boyd nudge her in the ribs. She inched away from him, but there was nowhere to go.

‘You need to find my mum.’

‘We have people out looking for her. Do you have any idea where she might be?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Okay. Emma, I need your help to establish what happened.’

Emma looked up, eyes wide. ‘I don’t know anything.’

‘Tell me about your evening. Start at the beginning.’

‘Do we have to do this now?’ Bernie asked, her hand landing lightly on Emma’s shoulder once again.

‘I’m doing everything possible to find out what happened to your grandmother and to find your mother.’ Lottie directed her answer to Emma. ‘You might remember something you think is inconsequential, but it may in fact help us. You okay with that?’ She lowered her head, trying to see the girl’s eyes.

Emma spoke haltingly. ‘I came straight home after school and went to my room. Did my homework. I heard Mum come in from work around five. She called me for dinner at six. We had lasagne. The ready-made kind. Horrible crap, but I ate it, to keep her happy. She said she needed to work on her stupid course. I took the hint, made a cup of coffee and sat in the sitting room for a few minutes before Natasha rang me and I came over here. Watched the telly. That’s all I did.’