The Lost Child (Detective Lottie Parker #3)(80)

‘Poor girl. Someone beat her up and shoved her into a barrel of water while she was still alive.’

‘And there’s still no sight or sound of O’Dowd?’

‘Nope.’

Lottie told Boyd about the data from Marian’s laptop. ‘So were Tessa and O’Dowd related?’ she wondered.

‘I’ll check their birth certificates,’ he said.

‘We need to start looking at the why of all this, rather than the how. We know everything that has happened and most of how it happened. But we have no idea why.’

‘The drugs angle?’

‘McMahon can work on that. More than likely it has a role somewhere. I just don’t think it’s a major one.’

‘So where do we start?’

She wanted to tell Boyd about her conversation with Buzz Flynn, but she wasn’t sure how he would react.

‘Why was the gun in Tessa’s possession?’

‘What?’ Boyd said.

‘Nothing.’

‘You mentioned the gun.’

‘Thinking out loud again. Why did Tessa have it? The old woman Kirby interviewed seemed to know her. Kitty Belfield. Let’s see if she’s at home. She might have some answers.’ Picking up her jacket from the floor, Lottie headed for the door.

‘Kirby already spoke with her,’ Boyd countered.

She turned, one arm in the sleeve of her jacket.

‘Are you coming or what?’

‘I suppose I am.’





Seventy-One





The drive up to Farranstown House provided a view of the churning black waters of Lough Cullion in the distance.

When she stepped out of the car, Lottie held onto the roof to steady herself against the rising swirl of wind. With waterlogged pebbles crunching beneath her boots, she reached the door of the eighteenth-century country manor ahead of Boyd. She dragged down on the worn piece of twine, ringing the ancient brass bell.

‘This is how the other half lives,’ Boyd whispered as they stood on the cracked concrete step, shielding themselves from the tempest.

‘Looks a bit sad,’ Lottie said, and pulled the string again.

‘I’m coming! I’m coming.’ The door swung inwards and a woman, bent double, her head almost touching her knees, appeared. ‘You youngsters have no patience. None whatsoever.’

Restraining herself from stooping down to the woman’s level, Lottie introduced herself and Boyd.

‘Can we have a few words please, Mrs Belfield?’

‘The name is Kitty. And where is that lovely young man who was here the other day? Did you not bring him with you?’

‘He’s busy,’ Lottie said, realising that Kitty was talking about Kirby.

‘Come in so. He loved my bacon and cabbage. A great chat he was. Don’t get many round here to talk to nowadays. Sorry about the cold. I usually don’t put down a fire until seven.’ She led the way inside.

It was colder inside than out. The wide stone-floored hall, naked of any adornments, gave way to a large high-ceilinged living room. The walls were dressed in hanging tapestries depicting long-ago battles, and the ceiling, decorated with alabaster coving, seemed to creak with the weight of the upper level. Two couches that had once been upholstered in black leather, now stripped to their lining, were the only furniture in front of the vast cast-iron fireplace. A couple of logs sat in the grate with rolled-up sheets of newspaper protruding.

‘Sit down,’ Kitty said. ‘I can’t see you when you’re standing up. Scoliosis of the spine has me crippled. I won’t offer tea, because it isn’t teatime, so let’s be hearing what you have to say for yourselves.’

‘It’s about Tessa Ball,’ Lottie began.

‘Well, it’s hardly about the weather, young lady. What do you want to know about Tessa that you haven’t heard from your friend Larry?’

‘Larry?’ Boyd frowned.

‘Kirby,’ Lottie whispered.

‘Lovely young man – I’d say he’s a right hit with the ladies.’

‘You’d be correct there,’ Boyd said.

‘About Tessa,’ Lottie insisted. ‘We know she worked in partnership with your husband. Was there anything she might have been involved in that could have resulted in her murder?’

‘As a solicitor, Tessa would have dealt with a lot of ordinary folk, but she’d also have dealt with unsavoury characters. I’m sure there’s a list of people out there who were only too glad to hear she’d kicked the bucket.’

‘The files that were stolen from the office. You told Detective… Larry that they related to a case involving a woman called Carrie King who tried to burn down her home. Can you tell me anything else about that?’

Kitty turned up her nose and folded her arms as best she could around her shrunken frame. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything. The words were out of my mouth before I knew what I was saying. He is very disarming, that young man.’

‘We are interested in hearing the story.’

‘There is no story.’

‘Tell me about your husband’s business.’ Lottie tried to sidetrack Kitty before the woman clammed up totally.

‘I wasn’t allowed near the business. My role was to look after this monstrosity of a house. Left to my husband by a grateful client, if you can believe that. Back then, property was currency. I don’t know what type of characters he and Tessa dealt with, but I’m sure criminal elements were involved.’