Page 65 of Her Last Walk Home

‘Yeah! She’s getting me a football kit.’

‘I’m not sure she’ll get to the shops.’ Niamh’s WhatsApp photos had all been taken in pubs.

‘She promised,’ Davy whined, splashing the milk everywhere.

‘Eat up and I’ll get you settled with something on Netflix. How aboutSpongeBob?’

‘Hate it.’

‘I better put some calamine lotion on those spots. Are they itchy?’

‘Don’t want lotion.’

Davy let his spoon fall into the cereal and stomped up the stairs like a baby elephant. It reminded George of when he and Shannon were little. She was usually the one doing the stomping while he tried to keep the peace with their harried mother. Shannon had always been the one to let the side down. George was fed up being the good guy. There would be a massive row when she arrived home.

He put the bowl and spoon in the sink. He’d deal with his sister soon. She had outstayed her welcome. It was time for her to find a place of her own. A place where she could upset no one but herself.

49

Tiredness was eating into her bones and every muscle felt like it was being gnawed by a rat. Lottie switched off the engine and got out of the car.

Shading her eyes from the watery early-morning sun with her hand, she looked around. The field to her left was awash with crows, as if a black blanket had been thrown across the waterlogged earth. She said hello to the couple of gardaí who had arrived before her.

Garda Lei was tying crime-scene tape to a tree protruding from the ditch. He turned round as she approached.

‘Oh, Inspector, you got here quickly. Another nightmare. I really don’t know what?—’

‘What have we got?’

‘Female. Deceased, God help her. It’s awful. Some people… What’s the world coming to at all?’

‘Garda Lei?’ She had to stop him or he would go off on so many tangents you’d need a map to get him back on track.

‘I believe she was murdered.’

‘What makes you reach that conclusion?

‘Bloodstained clothing. She may have been stabbed. Plus she was dumped in a field. No coat or shoes. Hardly natural causes, if you ask me. Not that I?—’

‘Who discovered the body?’

‘A farmer. He was herding cows into the field because he had to repair their barn. He’d already opened the gate when he noticed the bird activity. He was quick-thinking, to give him his due, kept the cows back while he went to investigate. Thought it might be a fox or badger ravaged by a dog but turned out to be much worse. That’s what he said when he phoned it in.’

She surveyed the adjoining field through squinting eyes. The birds seemed to be lying in wait for a second chance at the body. ‘I’ll have a look now, so.’

‘You’ll need wellingtons. Have you got any?’

‘No, but feck it, I have to see what we’re dealing with. Any missing person reports?’

‘Nothing new that I’ve heard, but I’ll check back at the station. SOCOs have been alerted. You might want to call the pathologist yourself, or will I do that?’

‘I’ll call her. Finish up with that tape and put up a secondary cordon, maybe halfway down the road. Do both ends when more reinforcements arrive. Only authorised personnel allowed entry. And keep an eye out for drones. We need a tent over her too.’

‘All in hand.’

She slipped a pair of protective gloves on over her cold fingers. The body wasn’t far from the edge of the ditch that lined the road. Similar to how Laura Nolan’s body had been left. But this location in the townland of Drinock was around five kilometres from the outskirts of Ragmullin. Fields all around, with the town on the horizon. Through the morning mist the town’s cathedral spires spiked the sky in the distance. If she was dealing with the same killer, did the choice of location meansomething to him? And how did he transport the bodies? There were no tyre tracks in the wet grass beneath her feet.

The body was covered with a sheet of plastic.

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