Page 140 of Hidden Daughters

‘Maybe you were “forced” to do that too?’ Imelda sneered.

‘Shut up, you little bitch,’ he snarled. ‘You have ruined me all over again. You and your stupid documentary.’

‘You don’t have to worry about that now,’ Lottie lied. ‘Imelda has lost all her research and recordings.’

‘I did not—’ Imelda shut up quickly when she realised Lottie’s ploy.

‘Where is it?’ Hayes asked, having caught her words before she’d stopped.

When Imelda next spoke, Lottie was glad the woman could think on her feet.

‘Mickey Fox took it and burned it, along with all the convent records.’

‘How would you even know that?’ Robert asked.

‘I was there. After he was murdered.’

‘Are you sure you didn’t murder him?’ His voice rose in a shriek.

He’d asked the question that had been simmering within Lottie all this time. She sensed Imelda was not an innocent in all that had happened. But had she been the facilitator or the perpetrator? That was the burning question of the day.

THE PAST

Mary Elizabeth was in so much pain she could not even utter her own name. When the old nun came for her, she was sure she was being brought to a doctor, being aware enough to know she needed medical attention. She also knew she would never see her baby and might just die of heartbreak before any internal wounds killed her.

She’d seen the black car before. And the man who drove it. The chaplain. Was he tasked with bringing her to the doctor? She slid into the back seat. There were two other girls there. They were timid, silent.

He slammed the door and started the engine. ‘Keep your mouths shut. I don’t want to hear any moaning, not now, and definitely not afterwards.’

She could not remain silent. ‘Where are you taking us? Is it to Knockraw?’

‘What did I say about silence?’

‘You are a man of God and this is a mortal sin.’

He did not reply, and Mary Elizabeth knew she had needled him. The pain in her abdomen abated slightly and she took this as a sign she was right to ask questions.

‘Why are you doing this?’

‘I have to.’ His voice was barely audible above the rattle of the engine. ‘He makes me.’

‘God is making you?’

‘No, the devil himself.’

She had no answer to that and lapsed into silence.

When the car pulled up at the back door to Knockraw, she felt a stab of pain sear through her body. She wondered if it was physical, or telepathic for what was to come. She had no time to think about it because she was dragged out of the car and in through the door to hell.

80

The coffee tasted as good as it smelled. Boyd took a good gulp in an effort to remain calm now that Detective Sergeant Mooney had returned.

‘Thanks, Grace,’ Mooney said, cradling his mug. ‘You don’t know how badly I need this.’

‘Just say what you’ve come to say,’ Bryan said irritably.

‘Then you can leave us in peace,’ Grace added.

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