Page 71 of The Altar Girls

As Boyd drove back to Ragmullin, Lottie asked the questions that had been going around in her head.

‘Where did the killer get the robes?’

‘If they’re choir robes, Father Maguire had ample stock in the cathedral.’

‘I get that, but if it isn’t him…’

‘Are you nurturing a soft spot for him like you had for Father Joe?’

‘Stop it, Boyd. This is totally different. Father Joe helped me out on that investigation, but I can’t help feeling Maguire is consumed by secrets.’

‘Might be because of his birth.’

She shook her head. ‘He mentioned that from the off. Didn’t hold back. Doesn’t seem embarrassed by it. No, it’s not that. Jacinta Nally, Alfie’s mother, said the priest gave Naomi a lift home from choir at least once.’

‘That’s not a crime.’

‘I know, but it means he was alone with the child without a chaperone. That’s not right.’

‘You don’t know the circumstances, and he was doing a good deed.’

‘He’s hiding something and I intend to find out what that is.’

‘No better woman, but it might have nothing to do with the murders.’

‘If not, I can cross it off.’ She pondered for a moment. ‘Where are the girls’ school bags and clothing? Both were wearing only their underwear beneath the robes.’

‘I don’t know, but if the robes are nothing to do with the choir, what are they?’

‘What are you getting at?’

‘I was at a funeral of a child in the west years ago. Old-fashioned people. Rather than dress the little boy in his football gear or his best clothes, they had him in a shroud.’

‘Dear God! In this day and age?’ She twisted to look at him to see if he was serious. He was.

‘It was years ago,’ he emphasised. ‘But the robes on the girls nagged at me. I think they could be shrouds.’

‘But we also have the hymn sheets, which point to the choir. We need to pick up Maguire to interrogate him.’

‘You mean interview him?’

‘No, I intend to interrogate him!’

The weather was baltic and Lottie shivered like a falling leaf as she walked into the community centre. Boyd remained by the door, phone in hand, checking the news app. He hadn’t mentioned Sergio so far today, though she knew the boy was on his mind all the time. She had run out of suggestions and things to say about his missing son, so she decided on saying nothing.

Her mind was consumed with questions about the investigation. They needed more than the DNA, which could be explained, to get a search warrant for Father Maguire’s living quarters.

Same for his car. Jacinta said she’d seen him give Naomi a lift from choir practice, so there would be a reason for the girl’s DNA to be in the vehicle, but maybe not in the boot. Naomi’s body had been found behind the cathedral, so there might have been no need for her to be in the car, but Willow had been left at St Patrick’s across town and she’d had to be transported there. Then it struck her that maybe Willow had been taken there first and her body just wasn’t discovered until after Naomi’s had been found. Was that what’d happened? When Jane completed her post-mortem, perhaps more information would be revealed.

The warmth inside the community centre flushed her freezing face, but her hands remained numb as she tugged at her gloves, having to bite the tips to get them off. A small group of people were chatting as they stacked the tables and counters with non-perishable foodstuffs. She counted five people. The priests and three older ladies. Her snow-sodden boots squelched as she made her way across the laminate floor. The talking ceased. Heads turned. Their faces lost their animation and masks of seriousness deepened their expressions.

Father Maguire approached her, his hands sheathed in clear disposable gloves. Interesting.

‘What can we do for you, Inspector?’ His eyes were tired-looking, ringed with dark circles.

‘I’d like a word, please. At the station.’

‘Am I under arrest?’

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