‘What is it? Where did you find it?’
‘On Willow’s body.’
Zara looked up with startled eyes. ‘But why? It doesn’t make sense.’
‘Very little makes sense this early in an investigation. Do you recognise it? Has it any meaning for you?’
Backing away from the image, Zara said, ‘I don’t even know what it is.’
‘We believe it’s a rosary.’
‘But why would… why would someone put that with my daughter?’
‘I don’t know.’
Zara turned her head away. ‘My poor Willow.’
‘You mentioned Connolly’s Funeral Home. Do you know Maurice Connolly? The undertaker?’
‘He did my mother’s funeral years ago.’
‘He would have had a lot of funerals since then, so perhaps that would account for him not remembering you.’
‘I’d have thought he would remember. I made quite a fuss at the time.’
‘Why was that?’
Zara allowed a soft smile onto her mournful lips. ‘I insisted on a wicker casket. It’s better for the environment, and cheaper. He said he’d never heard of such a thing. He tried to pawn me off with a hideous dark oak thing. But I stuck to my guns, and he sourced what I wanted.’
‘I’ll see if that nudges his memory then.’
‘Why? Is it important?’
‘Just eliminating—’
‘Did he do it? That horrible man. Did he kill my girl?’ Her voice rose and her daughter awoke with a start. Zara’s eyes widened with distress and she stared at Harper as if she didn’t know what to do with her. Eventually she caressed the child’s hair.
‘We have no formal suspects at this time. We’re just tracking the girls’ movements after they left the school gate. But there was a snowstorm at the time, so we aren’t finding much to go on.’
‘But you asked about the undertaker. Did Willow go into his place? Oh God. Coffins and bodies and my child… Did he kill her? That Connolly man?’
‘Zara, you’re jumping to conclusions. I have to ask questions and some of those will be hard for you, but most are just me being thorough. Do you understand?’
‘What I don’t understand is how my little girl was missing for nearly twenty-four hours and you couldn’t find her!’ The tears flowed then.
‘I’m sorry, but two children are dead and it’s my job to find who took their lives away from them. I’m truly sorry for your loss, Zara.’
‘I don’t need your apologies.’ She lifted Harper off her knee and moved towards Lottie, fire lighting up her eyes. ‘I need you to find my daughter’s killer.’
There was nothing more to say.
The two detectives left the grieving mother. They had her daughter’s post-mortem to get to.
47
Willow’s post-mortem was well under way by the time they arrived. Jane’s eyes were downturned and her mouth probably the same, Lottie thought, even though her mask covered it.
‘There is water in her lungs,’ the pathologist said.