Page 112 of The Altar Girls

‘Hey, Sam,’ she said as she pulled over a chair and sat beside him.

‘You here for a shoulder to cry on?’ he asked.

She should be annoyed, but she laughed, a little too high. ‘What are you? A mind-reader?’

He palmed his phone and faced her. ‘Want to get out of here?’

‘Sure.’

As he stood, the desk phone shrieked.

‘Don’t answer it,’ she said. ‘You’ve worked as many hours as I have and it’s way too much.’

He answered the phone. She watched his face as he said, ‘I’m on my way.’

‘What is it?’

‘It’s Sinead Healy. She’s in hospital following a car accident.’

‘The reporter? Why have you to go? It’s a job for traffic.’

‘Yeah, but she was reporting about the murdered girls. It might be connected.’

‘I doubt it. You said it was a car accident, not a hit.’ Martina couldn’t help rolling her eyes.

He blew out a ball of exasperated air. ‘You can come with me if you like. There’s something I want to ask you.’

‘If it’s about another night on my couch, it’ll cost you more than one glass of wine.’ She grinned, and he smiled. Damn, she was supposed to be over him, but here she was feeling like a bloody teenager.

McKeown had one arm pushed into his jacket sleeve when his mobile skittered across the desk, vibrating with a call. Martina glimpsed the name on the screen. Shit. He caught the phone and answered, putting space between them by moving to the other side of the office.

‘Hey there,’ he said. ‘Didn’t expect to hear from you.’ He waited a few beats. ‘Really? That’s great. I’ve… a witness to interview, but let me see…’ He glanced at the time. ‘I can be home in a couple of hours…’

Martina left McKeown to his call with his forgiving wife and was out in the cold before she could change her mind. A drink on her own, so. She had more than one sorrow to drown.

69

Bone-weary and hungry, Lottie sat in the incident room with Kirby and Lynch.

‘Any sign of Alfie?’ Lottie asked, accepting a mini Mars bar from Kirby.

‘There are two sets of footprints around the side of the cathedral leading away from the toilets,’ he said. ‘They veer up towards the old boys’ school. After that… nada.’

‘Was there evidence of a car there?’ Lottie sat forward.

‘Plenty, but nothing to indicate whose or what type.’

‘Where’s McKeown? He needs to get the traffic cam footage and check the CCTV in the area.’

‘He headed over to the hospital. Sinead Healy was in a car accident.’

That made Lottie sit up. ‘Suspicious?’

‘Traffic think she lost control at the top of the Dublin bridge. Car made a dog’s dinner of the bridge. She’s lucky she didn’t end up in the canal. There were witnesses who say she missed the lights changing, her wing was clipped and she lost control of the car.’

‘Why is McKeown needed? It’s not a detective’s job to take statements at a road accident.’

Kirby shrugged.

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