Red Ribbons (22 page)

O’CONNOR REACHED TALLAGHT GARDA STATION AT exactly five o’clock, just as the early evening news came on his car radio.

‘Shit, shit and more shit.’ O’Connor knew that whatever about asking the public to remain calm, that was one thing Nolan was not going to be. He was going to be dragged over hot coals, there was no two ways about it. He needed a cigarette before going in. He lit up, sucking the nicotine in hard and quickly, without pleasure, before finally stumping it out and heading reluctantly inside.

The Incident Room was even more packed than the last time – after the discovery of Amelia Spain’s body, the guys from Crumlin were now involved. At the top table, Nolan looked like a man who was ready to commit murder himself and Donoghue, seated to his right, looked equally as pissed off.

Donoghue got the session underway. ‘Right, starting with you Pringle, any more on that car from the canal? Our killer needs to be getting from A to B, and he ain’t flying.’

‘We have a second witness who saw the Carina, didn’t get registration number either, but we have a year – 1994. We’re running checks on tyre markings and paint used on that particular year and model.’

‘Good, let’s go with it. Get a picture of the make and model out, who knows what it might bring in. No county details for the registration?’

‘No, just the year.’

‘Right, McCann, I want everybody interviewed on the estate where Amelia Spain lived, or anywhere that young girl went. The guys from Crumlin will work with you,’ he nodded to the crew seated up the front. ‘If you need DI Hyland or any of the others from Harcourt Square to row in, just ask O’Connor.’

‘On it,’ McCann said with a curt nod.

‘Now, O’Connor, what had Morrison to say about the second girl?’

‘He’s doing the postmortem now, but preliminary examination shows the killing was similar but different. The rigor wasn’t forced this time, but that was most probably because of the speed of the burial. The girl was killed by asphyxiation most likely, same as Caroline, but this time a ligature was used, looks like a narrow cable of some kind, no rope marks. No blows to the head, but bruising to face and wrists.’

‘And your profiler, what’s she come up with?’

‘The killer is a watcher. Hanley’s working on an area under the bridge in Harold’s Cross, opposite the first girl’s family home. Looks like he may have been friendly with her beforehand, the techs are looking for prints from a book of poetry he could have given her.’

‘Poetry? A cultured killer. Fucking fantastic. Just what I wanted to hear.’

‘We’ll run whatever prints we get through AFIS and, if there’s a match, we’ll find it.’ O’Connor hoped that the Automatic Fingerprint Identification system would find a match – they needed a break, and quickly. He continued, ‘Also Jessica Barry has opened up. She’s putting a photofit together with DS Campbell.’

‘Good, glad the security’s been increased on the girl. I want that photofit as of yesterday.’ Donoghue put O’Connor’s name down against that particular task as well. ‘Anything else?’

‘McCann and Hyland have spoken to Matt Long, the farmer who owns the site where the first girl was found.’

Chief Superintendent Nolan looked around the room for Hyland and found him at the back. ‘Well, Hyland, what stories did the old man have from his sick bed?’

‘Said he saw a guy hanging around his old family place, the ruins near the burial site.’

‘And that was okay with him, an obliging farmer, is he?’

‘He thought he was one of those hillwalkers. Both times he saw him was over the weekend, says the guy was very smart looking, not the kind you’d find milking cows.’

‘Age?’

‘Couldn’t be sure, his sight isn’t too great.’

‘Brilliant. Right, get what you can out of him and if it bears any resemblance to the fit Jessica Barry is putting together, I want to know about it. O’Connor, I assume you’re running a check on all hillwalking clubs.’

‘Yes, and on the second swimming pool in Crumlin where Amelia went swimming. Both girls were excellent swimmers.’

‘Grand,’ Nolan said, nodding, ‘this web is getting itself a lot of legs, but I don’t want anything missed. DI Donoghue was asking you about your profiler; other than the leads picked up at Caroline’s home, what else?’

‘Kate narrowed the search area for the second missing girl, which saved us a shitload of time.’

‘Good, you know how I hate to waste taxpayers’ money.’

‘She believes him to be a loner, very particular, capable of keeping a calm head. Someone who can gain people’s trust easily, he won’t appear threatening. The ritual burials are personal to him, but she thinks the disparity between the two locations and the speed by which he made his move on Amelia means, as I said before, that he considered her a loose end. Either way, bottom line, he is capable of killing again, so he’ll look elsewhere now.’

‘When do we get her first report?’

‘This evening.’

‘Right, make sure Donoghue and I see it the moment you have it. And that Innes guy, what’s the story with him?’

‘Rock solid alibi for both abductions. CCIU have asked us to back off, they have their own operation running on him, and some of his friends.’

‘And other sex offenders in the Dublin area and beyond?’

‘I have the list, but none of them operate anyting like this guy. Dr Pearson doesn’t think his motivation is sexual.’

‘No? What’s her theory then?’

‘Probably best to wait for her report, but our man would have had ample opportunity with Amelia, if that had been his intention.’

‘I thought you said Ms Pearson figured Amelia to be a loose end? Maybe he was, as she said, particular? Gunning, where are you?’

‘Here, sir.’ Gunning put his hand up from the side.

‘I want more pressure applied outside. If there’s no match against the ribbons and everything else at home, we’ll need to push on Interpol searches.’

‘I’m on it, Boss, they’ll be getting a reality check from me no matter what their preferred language might be.’

‘Good – that okay with you, O’Connor?’

‘Sure.’ O’Connor wanted to punch DI Gunning in the face and remove any notion he had of being the star pupil. He should have got the boot in earlier about him missing the site opposite Caroline Devine’s house. He wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.

Nolan was still on a roll. ‘I assume you’ve run checks on any possible visiting paedophiles O’Connor?’

O’Connor was even quicker to respond this time. ‘Yes, Boss, nothing concrete in as yet, but we’re pressing every possibility; any link or potential link, we’ll see it.’

‘Toxicology reports on the first girl back in yet?’

This time O’Connor was pleased to have a definitive answer. ‘No drugs or any other substances were found in the victim’s system. If Caroline got into a car with someone, she did so of her own free will. That would back up Dr Pearson’s assessment that he gains their trust. All other trace evidence was in line with deposits from the burial site, nothing more.’

‘Right, while I think of it, O’Connor, get Rohan to tell those press guys to back off. If I see ‘Mr
goddamn
Invisible’ in print one more time, I’ll be even more bloody annoyed than I am already.’

Donoghue did the wrap up. ‘Right, you heard the boss. Gunning, push the Interpol searches, you know how slow they can be to come in. O’Connor, I’ll want to know what Hanley comes up with from the canal, that book of poetry, and Ms Pearson’s report when you get it. We’ll run a public appeal later this evening with the photofit from the Barry girl, and a visual of the Carina. It may not be his, but he’s getting from place to place, meaning he can move anywhere countywide, and if Dr Pearson is correct, this guy isn’t waiting on us for his next move. I don’t need to remind you all, there’s a computer in every police station in the country connected to the Pulse database. I want everyone out there using it. This place is filling up in here, and there’s only one of him. I don’t need to state the obvious.’

I CAN TELL DR EBBS IS TAKEN ABACK, AS IF HE NEEDS time to digest what I’ve just said. It’s in the way his head moves and his fingers tighten on his pen. He stares at me as if he might get some answers from my silence. Getting up from his chair, he walks around the room, slowly at first, then with more vigour.

‘So, if Amy was dead before you set fire to the caravan, why did you do it?’

‘Set the caravan on fire?’

‘Yes.’

‘I would think that’s obvious.’

‘Not really.’

‘Because, Dr Ebbs, I saw no point in living.’

He opens the file, flicks back through the case notes again.

‘You were dragged from the fire by an Oliver Gilmartin?’

‘Yes, the caretaker of the caravan park.’ I remember Gilmartin, and his big mouth. All bravado he was, talking about how he thought at first the fire was set by vandals, looking at me, all smug that he was some kind of hero of the hour. I’d only seen his caravan once. The day we arrived at the site, Joe had dragged me in to sign some goddamn registration book.

‘Ellie, are you listening to me?’

‘What?’

‘Ellie, the morning of the fire, it says here Oliver Gilmartin tried to get Amy out as well, but he couldn’t reach her after the gas explosion.’

‘People said a lot of things.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like I was depressed, like I was crazy, that I’d wanted to end my own life, wanted to take my child with me.’

‘And why would they say all that if it isn’t true?’

‘I don’t know, all I know is I’m the only one who saw him, the man who killed my daughter. No one believed me about him. There was nothing of Amy left after the fire, nothing but her bones, and they said very little.’

‘Ellie, according to the file
you
said a lot of things afterwards, much of which proved incorrect.’

‘There are still bits I can’t remember clearly.’ My voice sounds weak.

‘Well there would have been trauma, there is no denying that.’

I wish he would stop flicking through that file.

‘I don’t know what I was back then.’

‘You say when you got back to the caravan, Amy was already dead.’

‘Yes.’

‘So how do you know this mystery man killed her?’

‘She spoke about him.’

‘What did she say?’

‘I didn’t think anything of it. I thought he was just one of the kids from the caravan park. But afterwards, I remembered her telling me about how the two of them had gone exploring. She even tried to show me where.’

‘And you thought of this when you found Amy?’

‘No, not immediately. Immediately, I had other things on my mind.’

I feel annoyed. I know I should put an end to this.

‘Ellie?’

‘Can I go now? I don’t want to talk any more.’

‘Sorry, just bear with me a little longer. I know it’s difficult.’

‘It’s all in the file, why don’t you just read it again and let me go.’

‘When you found her, you said that you thought she was sleeping?’

‘Yes, she looked so calm, innocent. Everything about her seemed perfect. I had only opened the bedroom door to make sure she was still asleep. It was then I noticed them.’

‘What?’

‘At first I thought they were of no importance.’

‘What were of no importance?’

‘The ribbons, the ones on her plaits.’

‘What about them?’

‘They were wrong, they weren’t the way she wore them. It was because of the ribbons that I looked closer; if not, I might have closed the door and just assumed she was asleep.’

‘So you went over to her.’

‘Yes, that’s when I knew. When I touched her, her face was cold. Have you ever seen a dead person, Dr Ebbs?’

‘Yes, Ellie, I have.’

‘Her face was that grey colour of death.’

‘And you were absolutely sure she was dead?’

‘Yes.’

‘But you didn’t think to raise the alarm?’

‘What for? I just wanted to be with her. Maybe I wasn’t thinking straight.’ I pause. ‘But I do remember how she was lying.’

‘How was she lying?’

‘It was so strange. It took me a while to work out why.’

‘Why did you think it was strange, Ellie?’

‘Because she looked like a statue.’

‘A statue?’

‘Yeah, a statue of an angel.’

‘Why do you say that?’

‘It was her hands, they were joined as if she was praying and her body was all curled up, her knees looked like she was kneeling.’

‘What you’ve just said about the ribbons, and how Amy was lying, you’ve never mentioned this before?’

‘I had my reasons.’ He flicks through the file again and my head starts to ache. ‘Don’t you get it, Dr Ebbs? None of it matters. She’s dead. My daughter is dead. Those words on the page, ‘AMY’ – ‘DEAD’ – ‘WEXFORD’, that’s all that matters.’

He stops, and when he speaks his voice is gentle. ‘Nor have you mentioned anything since.’

‘Since?’

He looks straight at me. ‘Since you’ve been here.’

I hold his gaze. ‘No one else has ever asked.’

HIS BEDROOM IN MEADOW VIEW WAS SPARSE: A SINGLE BED, a solid-oak two-drawer locker picked up at an auction in Rathmines, a portable television, a music centre at the wall opposite the end of the bed, and one small window looking out onto the street. It was a place to sleep and unwind; taking time out was important to him. Everyone needed to close the door at some point, mentally shut out the world.