The Lost Child (Detective Lottie Parker #3)(82)

‘Stan sent Tessa here instead,’ Kitty continued. ‘The screams. The screeches that young woman howled when she saw Tessa walk into this room. I can tell you, I still hear them when I go to bed at night. The lights flickered and the fire almost died in the grate. It was like the devil himself had entered my house and all the inhabitants of hell were on his heels.’

‘Jesus,’ Boyd said.

‘No, there was no Jesus nor God here that evening. Only evil. I can tell you this… Carrie was terrified of Tessa Ball. So terrified, she flung herself off that couch, crawled to the fire and tried to throw herself into it.’

Lottie watched Kitty intently, hanging on her every word.

‘What did Tessa do?’

‘Tessa was so cold hearted it’s a wonder she didn’t douse the fire with her words alone. She walked over there,’ Kitty pointed to the fireplace, ‘lifted the poker and threatened to beat the baby out of Carrie if she didn’t get up on her feet.’

Lottie tried to imagine the then thirty-five-year-old Tessa Ball turning into this demonic individual as painted by Kitty. A woman who in later years kept a prayer to St Anthony pinned to her bedside locker with a Bible resting atop. ‘Did you try to help?’

‘I was as terrified as poor Carrie. I helped her up, her babies straining to escape her womb. She screamed and Tessa dragged her out to her car. That was the last I ever saw of her.’

‘Surely, as a concerned citizen, you should have reported the incident to the authorities?’

‘Authorities? Young lady, this was the early seventies. Everyone was in everyone else’s pocket. The priests and nuns ruled the roost. The guards were as twisted as the priests and the health boards had crooked people in every organisation you could think of. That girl was destined for a mother-and-baby home, or the asylum. I don’t know which was the lesser of the two evils, but she ended up in the asylum.’

‘I heard she was released at one stage, and committed again after trying to burn down a house.’

‘Mmm… I heard that too. But I don’t know the story behind it.’ She folded her arms, twitched her nose and set her mouth in a straight line. ‘I only know that when Stan came home that day and I told him what had happened, he told me to forget all about it. Never repeat it to a sinner, he said. And I never did. I’m only telling you because Stan is no longer around to know and now Tessa is dead too. And you’re not a sinner, are you, Inspector? So no harm done.’

Kitty leaned over and, with the aid of a walking stick, stood up, still doubled over. Lottie wondered if perhaps the old lady had paid with her health for not helping the young woman who had come to her door seeking refuge.

‘I still don’t understand why Carrie came all the way out here in the bad weather you’ve described. Why would she do that?’

‘I ask myself that question quite often. And I don’t like the answer I come up with.’

‘And what answer is that?’

‘That perhaps my Stan was one of those men who took advantage of her.’

‘Surely not,’ Lottie said.

‘This was a town of secrets. Open secrets. People knew everything and said nothing.’

Lottie knew only too well how the town worked. And she didn’t like it one bit.

‘I felt sorry for Carrie that day,’ Kitty said, her voice cracking. ‘Mainly because of her helplessness, but also because of her fear. But she made her own bed, as they say, and she had to lie in it, even if it did turn out to be in a padded cell in the asylum.’

‘I heard that one of her children was placed in the asylum too. I didn’t think that could happen.’

‘I know nothing about that.’ Kitty shuddered and gripped the mantelpiece for support. ‘But those were different times. Back then, children who were not wanted were put in any damn place an adult pleased.’

Lottie put out her hand to steady the old woman, who brushed away the help and flicked a long plastic flint. As the newspaper in the grate ignited, sparks shot out and a flame took hold. Another snarl of wind sent more soot trickling down the chimney. A gust appeared to shake the house to its roots. Should she ask the question or let it die? It would fester if she didn’t ask.

‘One last question,’ she said. ‘You mentioned Tessa was in cahoots with a guard. What were they involved in?’

‘Let me think.’ Picking up the poker, Kitty thrust it into the grate, moving the logs about. ‘The two of them eventually signed Carrie’s life away.’

Holding her breath for a moment, Lottie exhaled as she said, ‘What was his name?’

‘Detective Inspector Parker, are you sure you want me to answer that question?’ Two crystal eyes shot a look at her.

‘Yes,’ Lottie said.

‘I think you already know the answer,’ Kitty said and replaced the poker in the companion set. ‘Sometimes knowing is worse than not knowing. Can you understand that?’

‘I’m not sure, Kitty. I’m honestly not sure of anything.’

‘Well then, my dear, I think I’ve said all that I’m going to say. I’ll show you out.’





Seventy-Two





Detective Larry Kirby sucked hard on his e-cigarette, wishing he had never started the thing. A cigar, a nice fat Cuban. Yeah, that would be nice. He thought of Mick O’Dowd and how he had given him one the morning of the fire.