Page 111 of Hidden Daughters

Ann had heard he’d been murdered. ‘Did you kill him for them?’

‘Me? Good God, no. But someone got to him. I think he was burning the records at his caravan and then he was… attacked. I fled.’

‘But there were hundreds, if not thousands of women who were thrown in the convent and forgotten about. Do you really think they are all going to be killed?’

‘No, not all. Only those who were present the day a little girl was murdered.’

Ann held her breath, shocked that Imelda had learned of the tragedy. She didn’t want to reveal her personal knowledge of that terrible event. Not yet.

‘A lot of girls and babies died in there. Mainly from neglect and torture. Some of those deaths could be classed as manslaughter, if not murder. So who are you referring to?’

‘You know exactly who I’m talking about. A little girl the nuns renamed Gabriel.’

Ann inhaled so suddenly she thought she might pass out. ‘How do you know who was there that day?’

‘It was logged. Those who were working in the laundry room. Whoever visited the convent. All that.’

She had no memory of anyone keeping a note of events. ‘Who made the log?’

‘A young novice named Assumpta Feeney.’

‘That’s the name of the woman who was murdered in the cottage you were renting.’ The fear returned in waves. Had Imelda killed Assumpta?

‘I know what you’re thinking, but I did not kill her.’

‘You were renting the place and then you disappeared. Makes you look guilty as hell.’

Imelda slammed her fist on the dashboard. ‘No, no, no. You have to listen to me. Assumpta knew who locked the little girl in the machine.’

‘And who was it?’

‘A man called Robert Hayes.’

Ann felt the air release from her body. So Imelda knew.

She leaned back in the seat. Then she got out of the car, the atmosphere suddenly stifling in the confined space.

The sea looked so peaceful while she was churning around inside. It was all too much. Too much in a short space of time. She’d been transported back to the horror and she knew she had no choice but to face it. Stand up to it. First of all, though, she needed to discover everything Imelda Conroy knew and what she was after.

66

Kirby had driven out to the priest’s house near Moycullen. The crime-scene tape was in place and the house was well guarded. The SOCOs’ van was in the driveway and he visualised the work they were doing inside. Would Robert Hayes return to the scene of the crime? Probably not. He was more than likely off hunting for his next victim.

He looked at the printout that Mooney had given him. It contained only broad details of the murders. He reversed the car, made a three-point turn and headed for O’Shaughnessy’s house.

He arrived just as a man came flying out the back door, landing on his back on the paved yard. He stood quickly, dusted himself down and pointed an accusing finger at the man standing in the doorway.

‘This is not the last of it, O’Shaughnessy,’ he yelled, gesticulating wildly. ‘I’m going to have you arrested. For assault. For murder.’

He turned and jumped into a shining white SUV and sped off down the narrow lane.

Kirby approached as Grace joined Bryan at the door. A black and white dog ran around in circles.

‘You’re back, Detective Kirby,’ she said.

‘Heel, Tess,’ Bryan said, then turned to Kirby. ‘You’re the guy from Ragmullin, are you?’

‘Yep, that’s me. And I’d murder a cup of tea.’ Then he felt his cheeks flare. ‘Sorry. Wrong turn of phrase there.’

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