Little Bones: A totally addictive crime thriller

by Patricia Gibney

  ‘She seemed okay whenever I met her,’ he said.

  ‘You’ve met her?’

  ‘Of course. Joyce and Nathan were friends of ours. We’ve had them round for dinner. Isn’t that right, darling?’

  Lottie glanced at his wife, who kept her head down, studying her hands on her lap.

  ‘When was the last time they were here for dinner?’

  ‘A few weeks ago, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Something like that.’ She didn’t look up.

  What was she missing here? Lottie looked over at Boyd, and he raised one shoulder. He wasn’t sure either.

  ‘What’s Nathan like?’ she asked.

  ‘Grand fellow,’ Dylan said.

  ‘Sinéad?’ Lottie lowered her head, forcing the other woman to look up at her.

  ‘He … Nathan’s a good man.’ Sinéad stood suddenly, gripped her arms around her waist.

  ‘How did you all become friends?’ Lottie said.

  Dylan said, ‘I met him at the gym and we got talking. Realised then that Sinéad was minding Evan a few days a week. After that we met up for a pint now and again. I invited them for dinner. Sinéad and Joyce hit it off.’

  ‘How long ago was this first dinner party?’

  He shrugged. ‘Last summer. We had a barbecue.’

  ‘And neither of you noticed any odd dynamic between Nathan and Joyce?’

  ‘They were a pleasant couple and we became friendly with them as we got to know them,’ Dylan said. ‘I don’t see how this is helping you find Evan.’

  Lottie turned to Sinéad. ‘When Nathan didn’t return your call, what did you think was going on?’

  ‘Nothing. I mean, I knew he was abroad. Joyce had told me that. And when she didn’t answer, I tried his phone. That’s all.’

  ‘Do you think Nathan could have abducted Evan?’ Boyd said.

  ‘God, no, why would he do that?’ Sinéad paled and looked horrified.

  Why indeed? Lottie felt they were being stonewalled and she knew she was losing valuable time in the search for the little boy. ‘So neither Joyce nor Nathan gave you any cause for concern?’

  ‘None at all,’ Dylan said.

  ‘Is Nathan a regular at Sheefin Park gym? I believe you go three times a week,’ Lottie said.

  ‘Three times a week and the odd Saturday. But I haven’t seen Nathan there in a while. He drives a lot. I can ask around if you—’

  ‘Won’t be necessary. We’ll follow it up, thanks.’

  ‘If that’s all, I have to make it to a client consultation.’

  ‘Sure,’ Lottie said, and stepped towards the door.

  Boyd opened it but didn’t move into the hall. ‘Was it usual for Evan to be left here after hours?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Sinéad said.

  ‘Had there been other occasions when Joyce didn’t pick him up at the allotted time and you had to call Nathan?’

  Lottie noticed a bright flush creep up Sinéad’s pale face. Dylan placed an arm around his wife’s shoulders and pulled her to his chest.

  ‘I think that’s enough for now. You’re upsetting my wife.’

  ‘Answer the question, Sinéad.’

  The woman looked up from beneath her long lashes, eyes watery. ‘Once before. Around Halloween last year. The next day she told me that she got held up at work, but she didn’t ring or anything. Luckily Nathan was home and he came for Evan. Joyce never even apologised.’

  ‘I suppose she thought because we were friends she could take advantage,’ Dylan said, ‘but I soon let her know that this is Sinéad’s business and she had to respect it.’

  There went that friendship, Lottie thought. ‘Okay. Is there anything else unusual you can share with us?’

  ‘Nothing I can think of at the moment,’ Sinéad muttered.

  ‘If you do think of anything else, let me know. I will most likely need to question you both again at a later date.’

  ‘We will help you in any way we can,’ Dylan said, his fingers now white from gripping Sinéad’s shoulder.

  ‘That’s good. We need everyone to cooperate so we can bring this little boy home alive.’

  ‘Oh God,’ Sinéad cried, burying her face in her hands.

  ‘Another thing. There’s no evidence of the front door being damaged or the lock interfered with. How could someone have gained access to your house?’ She looked from one to the other. Sinéad shook her head, clutching her elbows, but Dylan seemed uneasy, dropping his eyes.

  Sinéad said, ‘Tell them.’

  ‘Dylan?’ Lottie pressed.

  ‘I didn’t think it was important,’ he said.

  Dear God in heaven. Lottie braced herself for whatever stupidity was coming her way. ‘You better tell me.’

  ‘When I got back to my locker at the gym last night, the door was open. But I’m sure I locked it, or maybe I forgot.’

  ‘Anything missing?’

  ‘I only keep three keys on my key ring. The car, the office and the house key. And now I’m realising the significance of it …’

  ‘Spit it out, Dylan.’

  He took a key ring from his pocket. There were only two keys on it.

  ‘My front door key is missing.’

  ‘You should have informed us immediately.’ Bloody hell, another headache. They’d have to check out everyone who was at the gym last night. Scrutinise the security footage – that was if they even had cameras in the changing rooms. Probably not.

  ‘I didn’t notice until we got back to the house this morning after your forensic guys had finished. Sinéad had to use her key. Mine was gone.’

  ‘Could you have lost it anywhere else before or after the gym?’

  ‘It’s possible, but I didn’t notice it was gone because after my session my phone exploded with Sinéad’s calls.’

  ‘Did you notice anyone different at the gym last night?’

  ‘It was just the usual crowd. I’m sorry.’

  ‘That’s okay.’

  The couple retreated into each other’s arms.

  ‘One more thing,’ Lottie said, turning back, feeling like Columbo. ‘Do either of you recognise the name Frank Maher? He’s in his eighties, lives down by the harbour. Used to own Joyce’s car.’

  Sinéad remained silent, her head buried in her husband’s shoulder, but Lottie could have sworn Dylan’s smooth face twitched.

  ‘Can’t say that we do,’ he said.

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  Lottie knew that was all she would get from him, for now.

  46

  Back at the office, Lottie sat at her desk trying to clear the headache that was pounding in her forehead. If someone had stolen Dylan Foley’s front door key and used it to gain access to his home, that proved Evan had been abducted. It was also clear, if that was the scenario, that planning was involved. The abductor had been aware that neither Joyce nor Nathan was around, and had known Dylan Foley’s movements. Unless it was Nathan himself who had been involved in the boy’s disappearance.

  She buried her head in her hands.

  Boyd appeared around the door with a bottle of water and two paracetamol. ‘You need these, and then you need to eat.’

  ‘I need a strong drink.’

  ‘Come on, Lottie.’

  She took the pills and swallowed half the water.

  Screwing on the cap, she said, ‘We haven’t one hint as to where Joyce and Evan are. A stolen key. A car that once belonged to an old man. And then we have the Foleys. What were those shenanigans all about? Was there something going on between Sinéad and Nathan? She looked fairly shifty or am I reading too fecking much into people who are just uncomfortable in my presence?’

  ‘You need to relax.’

  ‘God, Boyd. We haven’t one clue as to who murdered Isabel Gallagher. Nobody out in that arsehole of nowhere has cameras; it’s like a fucking free-for-all in the countryside. They don’t even lock their doors, for fuck’s sake. House-to-house enquiries brought us nothing ba
r the price of a cow at mart. No weapon found at her home. Nothing from DNA yet. Kevin Doran is the invisible man. It’s all going backwards and I’m turning into a basket case.’

  ‘Take a breath.’

  ‘Don’t tell me to take a bloody breath. I need a break in these cases. One tiny bastard clue. That little boy could be dead, is probably dead, because we can’t sort an arse from an elbow. Help me out here, Boyd.’

  ‘Perhaps you should call in reinforcements. Split the two investigations. There’s little to tie them together except the fact that Isabel had arranged a meeting with Sinéad Foley yesterday morning.’

  ‘Isabel had a razor blade in her hand and one was found in Joyce’s car and another in her hallway.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘Boyd, I’m tired, but I know the two women are connected. At Isabel’s post-mortem I saw with my own eyes the cuts to her feet and thigh. Probably made with a razor blade. Maybe I’m stretching credibility, but there’s a thread there that I just can’t catch. Yet.’

  She drank more water and wiped dribbles from her chin.

  ‘We have to find Evan.’ She looked over at him. ‘You should write up that Foley interview. See if you can pick holes in what they said, and confirm Dylan’s whereabouts last night. Check with the gym; get their security footage if they have any cameras. Also I want any footage you can find from the surrounding businesses or whatever is located there. I need names of members and a list of who was on the premises while Dylan was there. Talk to everyone. And find out when Nathan works out there.’

  ‘Who’s to say the key didn’t disappear earlier in the day?’

  ‘Don’t even go there.’

  ‘Righto.’

  He whipped the door shut behind him and Lottie let out a sigh of relief. She wanted to savour the quiet of her office for a few moments. It didn’t last long before Kirby bustled in the door.

  ‘Boss, there’s a woman downstairs. You should have a word with her.’

  ‘Should I now? Kirby, I’m drowning in work as it is.’ She waved her hand over the mountain of budget reports, overtime claims and court files, and the growing pile of door-to-door reports with nothing to tell her where Evan was. ‘If she can’t tell me anything about either the Gallagher case or the Breslin case, I don’t want to see her.’

  ‘She says she has something important to show you. Asked for you specifically. There’s something about her. I don’t know what it is, but I really think you need to talk to her.’

  Her headache refused to ease. She drained the remaining water.

  ‘Oh for God’s sake, Kirby, where is she?’

  * * *

  The room off the reception area wasn’t much bigger than a pantry, and it was like a mini furnace when Lottie entered.

  She squeezed in behind the desk and appraised the visitor. Aged somewhere between twenty and forty, she was swimming in a full-length black parka. Her hair was an untidy mess at the nape of her neck, her forehead indented with deeply ingrained furrows, puddled with perspiration. Her eyes were pools of something Lottie couldn’t decipher. Pain or fear? One or the other, if not both.

  ‘You can take off your coat if you like,’ Lottie said. ‘It’s hot in here.’

  ‘All right.’ The woman struggled to tug the sleeves down before letting the coat rest around her waist.

  Lottie scanned the name on the form. ‘Dervla, you wanted to see me? I’m told you have something to show me.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have come.’ Dervla made to stand, but was restrained by her jacket.

  ‘You’re here, so you must have a good reason. I won’t bite. How can I help you?’ If only her damn headache would disappear.

  ‘I’m afraid.’

  The eyes widened, dark and worried. Crow’s feet ingrained around them from way too much stress for one so young. But now that Lottie looked at her, the woman might be nearer the forty mark. It was hard to pin down her age.

  ‘Why are you afraid?’

  A shrug. A sniff. A hand rummaged for her pocket but came up empty. ‘It’s all so weird and I know I shouldn’t have come, but I didn’t want it in my home any more. It follows me around, you see.’

  God preserve me, Lottie implored. The thought was interrupted by images of what she’d do to Kirby for landing her with this woman.

  ‘What follows you? Something in your home or out in the street?’

  ‘It was in the fridge. All night. I couldn’t sleep properly. And when I did fall asleep, I had nightmares about it.’

  Sweet Jesus, help. ‘Oh, and what is this thing in your refrigerator?’

  ‘A bone.’

  ‘A bone?’

  ‘I knew you’d think I was loopy.’

  ‘Not at all.’ Lottie kept her fake smile in place, but it was beginning to hurt worse than her headache.

  ‘I found it yesterday. On the hill. I brought it home and put it in a bag. But I think I should have left it where it was. It’s bad luck to disturb the dead.’

  ‘What hill would that be?’

  ‘Misneach.’

  ‘I didn’t think the public were allowed there. Isn’t it a sacred site?’

  ‘It’s more open nowadays. For hikers and hill walkers. Oh, and there’s the Sun God festival.’

  Lottie hadn’t time for this. ‘This bone you took, it has you worried, has it?’

  ‘Yeah. I think … no, I’m sure it’s human.’ Dervla rolled up the sleeves of her shirt as a bead of perspiration dribbled between wild eyebrows.

  ‘How can you be sure?’

  A shrug. ‘Just know.’

  ‘Is it still in your refrigerator?’

  Dervla dug around in her pocket and eventually extracted a freezer bag. She laid it reverently on the desk between them.

  ‘It’s very small,’ Lottie said, examining the bone through the plastic. ‘It could be from an animal.’

  But she knew. She knew just by looking at it that it had come from a very small human. It was far too weathered to belong to Evan.

  ‘It’s like it came from a little child.’ Dervla swallowed a loud sob. ‘Shit, I’m sorry. It has me rattled.’

  ‘That’s understandable. You did the right thing bringing it to me.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Of course you did. I’ll send it to the lab for examination. After that, I’ll know exactly what I’m dealing with.’

  ‘There’s more.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘More bones. I went back up the hill. This morning. Dug around a bit. It was so small. A tiny skull.’

  ‘A skull? Did you take that too?’

  ‘God, no. I felt guilty enough taking the bone. I’ll have nothing but bad luck for disturbing a grave site.’

  ‘Dervla, I need you to tell me exactly where you found these bones.’

  Dervla ran her sleeve under her nose and sniffed loudly. ‘It’s hard to explain. I’d have to bring you up there to show you the exact spot, and I … I’m not sure I ever want to go there again.’ She looked up into Lottie’s eyes. ‘Too many bad memories.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’ll get someone to take the details of where you made the discovery and you can leave the rest to us.’

  ‘When it was just the one bone, the first time I was there, I thought maybe the sheep had just dragged it from somewhere else, but—’

  ‘We’ll deal with all that. I’ll have the site examined and get this bone tested and dated.’

  ‘It could be ancient, couldn’t it?’

  ‘It could be.’ But Lottie knew it wasn’t that ancient at all.

  Dervla took a few deep breaths, her face puce in the airless room. She fanned a hand in front of her nose.

  ‘I think you need some air,’ Lottie said.

  She placed the bag with the bone in an evidence bag she found in the desk drawer, then sealed and dated it, adding her signature with a flourish.

  A phone buzzed somewhere in the depths of Dervla’s coat.

  ‘You can answer that out in reception. It’s airi
er there. I’ll get someone to take a full statement from you.’

  ‘Thanks. You’re very kind.’

  ‘Just doing my job.’

  As the young woman rolled her sleeves back down, Lottie caught sight of a zigzag pattern of healed cuts on her left forearm. Just like a bed of eels.

  47

  Frank Maher rubbed Bosco’s neck, wrapping his fingers around the dog’s soft coat. He’d pulled a chair over to the stove and was stirring a pot of soup with his other hand.

  ‘Oxtail, lad,’ he said to the dog. ‘My favourite.’

  Bosco moaned in agreement.

  The front door opened and shut.

  ‘Hello, missy. I was trying to ring you. Damn phone. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.’

  ‘Ah, don’t worry, Uncle Frank. I heard it but couldn’t answer it. How are you doing today?’

  ‘Sit down there and I’ll make us a cup of tea.’

  ‘No, you have your soup. I don’t need tea. I’ll be having my dinner soon.’

  ‘How was your day?’

  ‘Same old, same old. How was yours.’

  ‘Same old, same old.’ Frank stopped stirring. ‘No, something different happened. That’s why I was ringing you. Two detectives were here asking questions.’

  ‘Really? What did they want?’

  Frank watched his niece as she moved the newspapers from one side of the table to the other.

  ‘They were asking about my old car, the one you sold for me.’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘It must have been used in a robbery or something. Bastard who bought it never registered it in his own name. Put it in some dummy company name. Are you okay, lovey? You’ve gone white in the face.’

  ‘If you don’t need anything from the shop, I’ll be off. Have to cook my dinner. I had a busy day today and I’m tired.’

  ‘Oh, and what were you doing? Hill walking again?’

  ‘Are you okay if I leave?’

  ‘I’m fine, lovey, but I’m worried about you. Maybe you should have a word with Kevin.’

  ‘Kevin?’ She shot up out of the chair like she’d been fired from a cannon. ‘Why on earth would I want to talk to him? I’m so over all that. I’m off. Ring if you need anything.’