Page 17 of Final Betrayal

‘No. She left maybe twenty minutes later. Could have been longer, I don’t know. I’d had a lot to drink.’

‘And the girls, did they drink much?’

‘A few shots maybe. I wasn’t keeping count.’

‘Any drugs?’

‘Now you’re definitely pushing it.’ Ducky looked up at her and his eyes narrowed. ‘All these questions. Has something happened to them?’

Lottie decided to give him a little information. ‘Amy’s dad says she never came home Saturday night. She didn’t turn up for work yesterday or today.’

‘That’s a bit weird all right. What does Penny say?’

‘We have yet to talk to her.’ Yet to find her, Lottie thought.

‘But you came to me first. Why?’

‘Your name was on the list of contacts that we got from Amy’s dad.’

‘Amy’s very popular. Must be a long list.’

‘Actually, it’s short. Can you give me the names of anyone else who might know where she could be?’

‘Not really. Ask Penny.’

‘I will. When I find her.’ Lottie considered the young man. He wasn’t displaying any signs of concern for the girls. He just seemed nervous. Because she was from the guards, or was it something else? Did he know where they were, or was he usually this calm? ‘Where does Penny work?’

He shrugged. ‘She worked for a while with Amy in the chemist. But I think she got fired or something. The last I heard she was on the dole.’

‘Where does she live?’

‘She has a flat on Columb Street. Don’t know the number. She never invited me. I only visited her at her parents’ house. Try there.’ He gave Lottie the address, and she turned to leave.

‘Thanks for your help. If either of the girls contacts you, this is my number. Call me straight away.’

She handed over her card and escaped out the door. Ducky Reilly seemed to know a whole lot of nothing.

As she made her way towards the car, in which Boyd was now sitting, Lottie heard the rumble of an engine behind her. She stood to one side and a black Mercedes SUV pulled up beside her. The driver’s window whizzed down.

She recognised the man behind the wheel immediately. Cyril Gill was well known in the town. A shyster, her mother had once said. He was a developer and builder.

‘Mr Gill,’ she said, appraising him. He was dressed for an office meeting, not a site visit. Pristine blue shirt with a white collar, and a red silk tie. His face was clean-shaven and his black hair had a hint of grey above his ears. She thought his blue eyes looked jaded, but his face was clear of wrinkles.

He took her card and glanced at it.

‘Detective Inspector Lottie Parker.’ The soft, silken voice immediately put her on her guard. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Having a look around, though it seems I’m not authorised to go on site.’ She wasn’t going to let Ducky sink, not yet.

‘Anything I can help you with?’ His eyes were shifty, and Lottie thought he hadn’t the slightest intention of helping her with anything. Not that she needed help from him.

‘No, it’s fine.’ She drew away from him and headed to her car.

‘Access is strictly by appointment,’ he said, and the window whizzed back up.

She raised her hand in a wave. Back at the car, she sat in beside Boyd.

‘Was that Cyril Gill?’ he said.

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