Page 141 of The Altar Girls

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While trying to make sense of the fact that Father Maguire had confirmed what Jacinta Nally had said, that the rosary may have belonged to his mother, Lottie spied Garda Lei slipping and sliding down the path behind the church.

He came to a stop by her side. ‘I didn’t find anything to help us. The path leads through a lane towards a few housing estates.’

She turned to Father Maguire. ‘Jacinta told me you stopped her son on his bike around here one day. Is that true?’

‘I think that’s when I first got talking to him.’

‘He lives in the centre of town. Why would he be riding his bike around here?’

‘Not much scope for cycling in town. Though we’re only a three- or four-minute walk from Main Street, it’s like being in the countryside.’ He gestured at the trees that lined the circumference of the church grounds. ‘No matter what you think of him, I doubt he’s a bad kid.’

‘Tell that to Ruth Kiernan.’

‘He just wants to be grown up. The death of his baby brother went hard on him.’

She still hadn’t got a handle on why Alfie had gone off with little Bethany. She had to park that and concentrate on the murders.

The rosary could be a false lead, though her gut was telling her it might be key to finding the killer. That’s if the killer wasn’t already standing at her shoulder. She also had to consider that Jacinta Nally worked in the Dream Care nursing home where Maguire’s mother was resident. And she needed to figure out what the priest was hiding about Alfie.

Father Maguire was fidgety, shuffling his car keys through his fingers. ‘I need to go.’

‘I want to talk to your mother. I’ll drive. Come with me.’ She turned to Garda Lei. ‘You too.’

The priest looked weary but didn’t protest. She didn’t give him much choice. They all bundled into her car, Lei in the back, turning up his nose at the mess. Maguire seemed unbothered as he deftly moved the fast-food wrappers to one side with his foot and lifted a bundle of paperwork from the seat. Lottie took it and handed it back to Lei.

They travelled in silence, which was a miracle because Lei usually never shut up. Maybe it was being so close to the priest, or maybe he was trying to figure out what was going on. Me and you both, Lottie thought.

She put her foot to the floor once she got on the dual carriageway, which was fully gritted and clear of snow and ice. Within fifteen minutes they were walking through the doors of the nursing home.

They found Phyllis Maguire seated where she’d been the other day, dressed in a pink cashmere cardigan, a Foxford blanket lying loose over her knees. A string of yellowing pearls made her neck look thinner than it was, accentuating her years.

‘Mammy, you’ve met Inspector Parker,’ Father Maguire said once he’d planted a chaste kiss on his mother’s cheek. ‘And this is Garda Lei.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ Lei said, offering his hand, which was ignored.

Maguire pulled over a few chairs.

‘I hope you don’t mind us crowding around you,’ Lottie said.

‘I like the company. It gets boring here all day, though they do their best. And Keith is great. He visits most days.’

Lottie suspected that Phyllis’s emphasis was a rebuke to her son.

‘I wanted to ask you about a rosary, if you wouldn’t mind looking at a photo for me?’

‘Show me.’

Lottie turned her phone around and handed it over. There was a tremor in the older lady’s hand as she took it. She clutched it tightly and brought it close to her face.

‘Can you make the picture bigger? I’d like to see the medallion.’

Lottie moved in beside her and zoomed the photo. ‘Any better?’

‘Yes thank you.’ Phyllis squinted. ‘That was my rosary.’

‘How can you be sure?’

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