The Lost Child (Detective Lottie Parker #3)(50)

‘If they were boisterous, having drug parties and the like,’ Boyd said, ‘they might’ve given O’Dowd a reason to burn the cottage himself.’

‘Why didn’t he call us in that case? No need to go to those sort of lengths,’ Lottie said.

‘Did he give a formal statement?’ Lynch asked.

‘He’s coming in today.’

‘Back to motive,’ Boyd said. ‘The only person linking the murder of Tessa Ball and the murder of the man at the cottage is Lorcan Brady. A tenuous link, based on hearsay.’

‘It’s all we’ve got, except for Arthur Russell,’ Lottie said. ‘I think they should be treated as separate investigations. For now.’

‘Right so.’ Boyd shrugged, folded his arms and said no more. Everyone turned to look at him. Lottie silently fumed. He was playing silly buggers with her team.

‘I think—’ he began.

‘I think,’ Lottie interrupted. She waited until his voice drained to a whisper. Two can play your game. ‘I think we tread carefully around both incidents until we know we can tie them together. We need to firmly plant Arthur Russell at the scene of Tessa Ball’s murder. We have a jacket found at the house that has been sent for forensic analysis. Possibly Arthur’s. The murder weapon has his fingerprints. Motive? Money? Drugs?

‘Kirby, figure out why Tessa signed over her house to Marian and if it has any significance to this investigation. We need to establish if Tessa was the primary target or was unfortunate enough to have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. We know Marian phoned her mother that night. Was it friendly, or under coercion? Whatever it was, it resulted in Tessa calling round.’ Lottie paused to catch her breath. ‘Once Marian is out of her induced coma, we’ll see what she can tell us.’

‘She won’t be able—’ Boyd said.

‘To talk,’ Lottie said. ‘I know. But I’m sure she can still write. Was anything discovered on her laptop or phone?’

Rustling through a file on his knee, Kirby extracted a printout. ‘Confirms the call to her mother at 21.07. That was the only call she made that day other than to Emma. Historical calls throw up nothing significant either. No reports of a partner in her life.’

‘What was she studying?’ Lottie asked.

‘Social studies and genealogy. Online course. The hard drive is corrupt from the smashing the laptop got, but we’ve sent it off to see if anything can be salvaged.’

‘Contact whoever is running the course.’

‘I did. The tutor is holidaying in Australia and the girl I spoke with wasn’t very helpful. She thought the course had finished.’

‘Dead end there, so.’ Lottie thought for a moment. The case had to do with either family or drugs. ‘Kirby, check with the land registry to find the owner of that cottage.’

‘Will do, boss.’

‘The knitting club. Any leads there?’

Shuffling uneasily on his chair, Kirby frowned, put away one file and took up another. ‘Jesus, boss, a group of little old ladies clicking away with needles and wool. Not my cup of tea at all.’

Lottie smiled. ‘Interesting interviews, were they?’

‘I could tell you everything from how to cure a cold to where the Pope was born.’

Everyone laughed and Lottie felt some of the tension ease from the room. ‘Anything about Tessa?’

‘Not a bad word from anyone. You’d think she was a saint.’

‘Maybe she was,’ Boyd offered.

Lottie scowled.

Kirby said, ‘Except maybe for one woman.’ He slid his finger down a list and then took his notebook from his breast pocket. ‘Here it is. Kitty Belfield. She started to say something – not about Tessa; about the fire at the cottage. Said, and I quote, “It’s not the first time a fire in Ragmullin ruined a family”, end quote. She clammed up once the room went silent with them all earwigging.’

‘Belfield?’ Lottie mused. ‘Belfield and Ball were a firm of solicitors at one time. Speak with this Kitty Belfield again. Without an audience.’

‘Will do.’ Kirby rose, taking his e-cigarette from his trouser pocket followed by the stub of a fat cigar. He seemed to consider both before putting the electronic device back and heading out.

‘Are you all clear on what you’ve to do?’

‘As mud,’ Boyd muttered.

‘Do you have something to add?’ Lottie didn’t want to lose the support of her team. Not now, when someone was sneaking behind her back to Superintendent Corrigan.

‘No. It’s all good.’

‘A word, Detective Boyd,’ Lottie said as the group moved chairs out of the way, making for the door.

When the room was empty, she sat on an abandoned chair and looked up at Boyd lounging near the door, hands in pockets, one foot up against the wall.

‘You know you don’t have to be a complete arsehole,’ she said. ‘That was totally disruptive behaviour.’

Boyd said nothing.

She hated apologising. Particularly to Boyd. Especially since she had been in the wrong. But she was right about one thing. He was being an absolute pain.

‘Right. I’m sorry for accusing you about the email. I was out of line,’ she said.

He still said nothing.