Page 142 of Final Betrayal

‘I don’t think the girls made a mistake that night. I think they did see Conor Dowling.’

‘That was agreed at trial.’

‘Yes. But what if he had committed a different crime, and that’s why he never gave an alibi for the Thompson assault and robbery?’

‘What are you getting at?’

‘I think Dowling had something to do with the body in the tunnel. That’s where he was running from. Not from Thompson’s. He came up through a tunnel. Either the one we were at earlier, or one nearby.’

‘So did he kill our victims or not?’

‘Whoever killed Amy and Penny had knowledge of the tunnels. From McKeown’s work on the CCTV, we can deduce that the murderer used a tunnel to either hide, make a getaway or stash the murder weapon.’

‘So who would know about it?’

‘Tony Keegan. He’s worked for Gill for twenty years. He had to know. He’s friends with Dowling, who may have told him.’

‘So you think Keegan beat up and robbed his future wife’s stepfather?’ McKeown said.

Lottie threw down the notebook and wrenched the heels of her hands into her eyes. None of this was bringing her any closer to her daughters’ whereabouts, but she was convinced the original Thompson case held the key. She just had to find it.

‘First things first. Give me Megan Price’s address. I’m going to see if Kirby is there. Then we’ll bring Dowling and Keegan back in. Boyd, you’re with me.’

SIXTY-ONE

Kirby’s car was in the drive. Lottie stood with Boyd and listened. A train chugged in the distance, traffic buzzed on the bypass a few kilometres away, a swing in someone’s garden squealed in the rising night wind. Normality in the midst of confusion, she thought.

Rain fell steadily as she approached the house. No lights blazed and no one opened the door.

‘The garage door is open,’ Boyd said.

Lottie pushed past him and stared. The door was indeed slightly ajar.

‘Should we wait for backup?’

‘I’m waiting for no one.’

The door scraped on the bare concrete floor as she pushed it inwards. The interior was lit dimly by the red glow from a light on a fridge freezer. A bench with tools lined one wall. She shone her torch around searching for a light switch, but couldn’t see one, though a fluorescent tube hung from the ceiling on a chain. Returning her attention to the bench, she caught sight of the glint of metal shards.

‘Boyd, look.’

‘It’s a workbench.’

‘I know, but those shavings are similar to what I saw in Conor Dowling’s shed.’ She continued shining the light up and down the area in front of her until the beam illuminated an unusual circular piece of equipment. ‘What do you think that’s for?’

Boyd just shrugged and turned up his mouth.

Even in her anxiety to find Kirby and her daughters, Lottie remembered her training and tugged on gloves. Running her finger along the inside edge of the circle, she said, ‘This is what was used to make the coins found at the murder scenes. And it came from Conor Dowling’s house.’

A groan alerted her senses.

‘What’s that?’ she whispered.

Boyd had heard it too. He rushed to the internal door and pushed it. He found a switch and light fell into the garage. ‘In here.’

Lottie followed him. On the floor of what looked like a utility room lay Kirby.

‘Shit, are you okay?’ Boyd knelt down beside the prone figure.

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