Page 123 of Final Betrayal

‘Took your time,’ he said.

Boyd switched on the recording equipment and gave the time, date and names of those present.

‘Hey, hold on a minute,’ Dowling said. ‘Is this a formal interview? I’ve done nothing wrong. This is harassment.’

‘Shut the fuck up,’ Lottie said.

‘Inspector.’ Boyd leaned his head to one side, indicating that they were being recorded.

Lottie stretched over the table. Eyeballed Dowling. ‘I don’t give a fiddler’s about you or your harassment. I want to know what you did with my daughters.’

‘I’d give them a good ride if I knew them.’

Lottie had to dig her nails into the palms of her hands so as not to reach out and slap the insolence off his face.

‘Why were you in the tunnel?’

‘Working, like I told you.’

‘On your own.’

‘Yes.’

‘Is that allowed by Health and Safety?’

‘Must be, because that’s what I was at.’

‘What type of work were you doing?’

‘Assessing the tunnel to make sure it wouldn’t collapse when the lift shaft was constructed.’

‘Are you qualified to do that?’

‘Yeah. Ask Tony Keegan. Or Bob Cleary. He’s the foreman, as you know.’

‘Cleary’s dead,’ she said. ‘As is Cyril Gill and a host of your work colleagues.’

‘Bad luck for them and good luck for me so.’

‘I think you ventured into that tunnel because you knew there was a body there.’

He opened his eyes wide. ‘A body? Where?’

Lottie slapped the desk so hard, even Boyd shuddered. ‘Don’t play silly buggers with me, Conor.’

He sniffed and shrugged. As he folded his arms, the smell of must and dampness grew stronger.

‘Answer me,’ she said.

‘Ask a question so.’

‘Who is it?’

‘Who?’

‘The body.’

‘I don’t know.’

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