Page 122 of Final Betrayal

‘We will ask him those questions.’

She cast the light once more over the body leaning against the wall. ‘Should I move it? There might be some evidence behind or under it.’

‘Leave it be. We need to have it forensically examined in situ. You don’t want to damage something that might give us an identity or perhaps provide us with a reason why this poor soul was abandoned here.’

‘You’re right. My head hurts anyway. Come on.’ Her girls were not here. She should be relieved, but it was no consolation. She had no idea where they were.

As she turned to leave, her eye caught the glint of something silver on the ground, just beside the bones of the left hand.

‘Fuck,’ Boyd said.

‘Double fuck,’ Lottie agreed.

FIFTY-FOUR

Lottie’s knees hurt and her ankles screamed for rest as she reached up her hand and allowed Kirby to haul her out of the tunnel. She was glad to be out in the little daylight allowed by the thunderous skies overhead. But there was no relief. Her daughters were still missing.

‘Call in SOCOs,’ she instructed the detective.

‘What did you find?’ he asked.

Boyd hauled himself out beside Lottie. ‘A body. Skeleton really.’

Kirby scratched his drenched head. ‘Left over from the time of the old gaol?’

‘More recent than the nineteenth century, unless they wore Levi’s and checked shirts back then,’ Lottie said. While Kirby got on the phone, she checked her own. Nothing. ‘You sure my number is linked to this device?’

‘Didn’t McKeown fix it up?’ Boyd said.

‘Yeah.’ She shoved the phone back in her pocket and looked around for a car to take her back to the station. She didn’t think her legs could carry her much further.

She spied a squad car at the perimeter and made her way to it as Kirby began the process of erecting a cordon around the tunnel entrance. She twisted the plastic bag containing the two coins in her hand, and wondered what secrets the network of tunnels beneath Ragmullin had yet to yield.

Lottie’s throat felt dry and as sore as the rest of her body, and as she walked towards the interview room, her jeans began to steam.

‘I always knew you were hot, but you are positively steaming,’ Boyd said with a wink.

‘Now is not the time or the place, Boyd. Is Dowling in here?’

‘Ready and waiting. Doc says he’s fine. Not a scratch on him. Unlike the two of us.’

She took off her jacket and rolled it into a ball as McKeown came out of the interview room.

‘Has he said anything?’

‘Other than not to tell his mother, nothing.’

‘Not to tell her what?’

‘I presumed he meant that he was out, though he doesn’t strike me as the type of person to be afraid of his mother.’

‘I’ve met her. I don’t blame him.’

‘That bad, huh?’

‘Bad enough.’ She turned to Boyd. ‘Let’s get cracking. I want to hear what he knows about Katie and Chloe.’

Lottie opened the door and entered the small, suffocating room. The smell of the underground tunnel seemed to trail in with her, or maybe, she thought, it was emanating from Dowling. His elbows were on the table, with one hand propping up his head. His face was washed clean and his hands looked scrubbed. The same filthy clothes hung from his thin frame. He appeared to be asleep, but as she shoved her jacket into a corner, he sat upright.

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