Page 93 of The Altar Girls

‘It hasn’t been published yet, Detective. It has to be passed by the super and then the press office before—’

‘I’m not going public with it,’ he interjected. ‘I might know who it is.’ He repeated his credentials, read out his email address, asked for it be sent to him immediately and hung up.

After an agonising five-minute wait, his computer pinged. Taking a deep breath, telling himself that it couldn’t be Jackie, he clicked the email open.

His breath caught in the back of his throat. He thought he would be sick.

‘Christ Almighty,’ he said, slapping a hand to his mouth.

‘What’s up?’ McKeown lifted his head from his work.

‘It’s her.’

McKeown’s chair slid across the floor, and Boyd felt air on his neck as the detective leaned over to see what had alarmed him.

‘That looks like a death mask photofit.’

‘It’s Jackie.’

‘Your ex-wife? She’s dead? What about your son?’

Boyd heard McKeown’s voice as if it was fading down a tunnel. He grabbed the phone and called the Ballina station again.

‘Don’t release that photofit. I know who it is. I’m on my way there now.’ He hung up without listening to the objections.

All reports had said the woman was alone in the car. Nothing to say otherwise, so where was his son?

He tapped the number again, on autopilot now. ‘You need to drag the river. An eight-year-old boy is missing.’

‘I’m sorry, sir, but no one else has been found. There was no evidence in the car of anyone other than the driver, never mind a child. No child seat or that.’

‘Get the sub-aqua teams there. I’ll join you in an hour.’ He hung up again.

‘It’ll take you longer than an hour to get there,’ McKeown said. ‘Even without the bad weather.’

Boyd ignored the warning and grabbed his keys and coat, adrenaline rather than common sense propelling him. ‘They need to drag that river. No car seat? That’s not evidence she was alone. Jackie wasn’t one to worry about safety. She was in bed with the criminal underworld in Spain. She stole my son away from me and I have to find him.’

McKeown put a hand on his arm, stalling him. ‘You have to tell the boss. We have two murdered children. You can’t just up and leave us in the middle of all this. You’ll lose your job.’

‘If I don’t go, I could lose my son. For ever.’ He had to get to Ballina, and no protestations from McKeown or anyone else were going to stop him. ‘If she asks, tell her where I’ve gone and I’ll suffer the consequences. I’m going to find out what the hell Jackie was doing up in the north-west, and then I will find my son.’

57

Sinead Healy had recorded her piece for the news, and even though Superintendent Farrell had given a press briefing, there was nothing new to report.

Having no news wasn’t what made her grind her teeth and clench her fists, though – she was trying to combat the feeling of being on edge. Julian Bradley scared the shit out of her. Was he a killer, and was that the reason he aligned himself to broken homes and abused children? To get close to the most vulnerable, namely children.

She thought of her ten-year-old daughter, Annie, at home with Carol, and was consumed with guilt. She had an urge to rush home and hug her. Then common sense prevailed. Annie was safe. Sinead had a story to follow and she needed a new angle. Where would she get it?

Walking away from the garda station, she spied two cars coming up Bishop Street. One sped by her and skidded into the yard behind the station. The other turned up by the community centre towards the cathedral.

Now might be the time to have a word with the volunteers. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, she thought as she pinged her car locked and made her way on foot.

* * *

Garda Martina Brennan was feeling sorry for Isaac Kiernan. With little Jacob asleep upstairs, they’d chatted for ages and he’d filled her in on how his faith in his wife’s innocence had changed to the suspicion that Ruth might have been physically abusing their two girls.

‘I never believed it,’ he said, ‘and when Bradley arrived again with his accusations, standing on my door like the Gestapo, I lashed out. So yes, I was guilty of assault. But I think my sentence far outweighed the crime.’

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