No Safe Place(Detective Lottie Parker #4)(87)

‘As you may know, he had surgery yesterday. There’s no point bothering him with this.’

‘How is he?’ Lottie said.

McMahon chewed his bottom lip. ‘I don’t know. Perhaps you could give Mrs Corrigan a call? When you get time, that is. Don’t mention this cock-up.’

‘What? Right, sir, but—’

‘Was there something you wanted to add?’

‘Is there any chance of extra support from another division?’

‘Where is Detective Lynch?’

‘She’s ill at the moment.’

‘I’ll see what I can do. In the meantime, get uniforms up to speed. Involve every last detective that works at this station. I want answers. Do you hear?’

Nods were accompanied by a blinding silence.

‘Am I talking to myself? I want answers and I want them now, and the only way you’re going to get them, you dozy lot, is by action. Get out of here.’

‘We need to inform the O’Donnells,’ Lottie said. ‘Before the media get wind of it.’

‘Do it. Because I can guarantee that once the media find out, they will push us into a full-on force ten gale.’





Seventy-Five





‘Back so soon?’ Donal O’Donnell led the two detectives into his home.

‘Are your sons around?’

‘They left shortly after you.’

‘Do you think you could ask them to come back again?’

Donal appeared to shudder as he lowered himself onto a chair. ‘This is it then. The bad news I’ve dreaded every day since my little woman went missing. You can tell me. I’ll tell the boys.’

Two watery eyes stared up at her and Lottie tried not to avert her own. She was about to crush any remaining hope from the bones of Donal O’Donnell. The kettle whistled and steam rose behind him.

‘Better switch that off, love. It’ll keep boiling for another two minutes if you don’t.’

‘Do you want a cup of something?’

‘No. I’m okay. Sit down.’

She hated breaking bad news to anyone. But this … this was going to kill the old man. ‘You’re right, Mr O’Donnell, I do have bad news.’

‘Well you’re hardly here to tell me I won the lottery, are you?’

‘No, I’m not. It’s about your Lynn.’

He began refolding the newspaper along the creases where he had folded it previously. ‘What about my girl. You find her? I’m guessing she’s not alive, or she’d be skipping in the door behind you.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t be sorry. You didn’t know her. She was my baby. Now I can finally grieve for her.’

‘Are you sure you’re okay?’

‘Holy God!’ The old man stood up suddenly and stretched his arms out wide, like he was welcoming the son of God down on top of him. Or ridding himself of Lucifer, the devil. Lottie had to stop herself squirming. ‘The evil that stalks this land is living right here,’ he shouted. ‘Under this very roof.’

‘Hey, steady on,’ Boyd said.

‘Sit down, please,’ Lottie said.

‘Piss off, the pair of you.’

‘Do you want to know about Lynn?’ Lottie asked.

‘She’s dead. What else can you tell me to ease my pain? Her bones are bare and naked of life. That’s all that’s left after all this time. I don’t need you to tell me. I know.’

‘That’s not exactly the case,’ Lottie said slowly. ‘You see, Mr O’Donnell, the thing is, we believe your daughter was alive up to at least two weeks ago.’

The transformation was instantaneous. Donal O’Donnell fell to the floor. A loud wail shattered the silence left in the wake of Lottie’s words. Then it was quiet.



* * *



Matt Mullin eyed his mother from under his long lashes. She had her arms folded, leaning against his open bedroom door.

‘I can’t cover for you any longer, Matt. They know you’re here. Please, tell me what you’ve done. I might be able to help you.’

He closed his eyes and curled into the wall, like he used to do when he was nine. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

‘If you won’t talk to me, call your therapist. Are you taking your medication?’

‘Go away. I want to sleep.’

‘You were out all night. Where were you?’

Her voice screeched through his skull like chalk on a board.

‘Will you shut up with the questions. My head is ready to burst.’

‘Did you do something bad, Matt?’

He blew out a breath, opened his eyes and sat up in bed. A pungent sourness swarmed about him. Was it coming from his body, or from her? Cradling the pillow to his chest, he looked over at the woman who’d given birth to him; who had loved and tended to him all his life. And he hated every bone in her body. She was a stranger. All he’d ever wanted was Elizabeth and she hadn’t wanted him.

Throwing the pillow to the floor, he pulled on his shoes and walked by his mother, nudging her angrily with his shoulder as he passed.

‘Matt? Matt! Where are you going?’