Page 147 of Her Last Walk Home

‘I couldn’t see. It was almost gone round the corner by the time I looked out.’

‘But it was definitely a taxi?’

A shrug. ‘It had the sign.’

‘Okay, thanks.’

Lottie went back to Boyd. ‘Wherever Diana went, she didn’t go voluntarily. The witness heard screams. There’s no CCTV outhere, so that’s a dead end. I think we should pay Irene Dunbar a visit.’

‘You think she is involved? Or that Diana went there?’

‘Not necessarily. But I want to ask about that old fire at Cuan. Gordon Collins’s house burned down, and now this holiday let. Our murderer could have started out as an arsonist.’

Her voice authoritative, verging on domineering, Lottie marched past Mona. ‘Open the door.’

There was no stalling or protestations this time. Lottie, followed by Boyd, rushed into Irene Dunbar’s office.

The woman jumped, hand to her heart. ‘What’s going on?’

‘You tell me.’

‘I’ve no idea what?—’

‘Enough.’ Lottie slapped the photo found in Aneta’s possessions down on the desk. ‘I want to know the names of everyone in that photo.’

‘It… looks ancient.’

‘Try thirty years old.’

Irene fell back into her chair. ‘What do you know about it?’

‘I said?—’

‘Okay, okay.’ She picked up the photo. ‘Some people just want to dig up the past when it’s best left buried.’

‘Who do you mean?’

‘Aneta. She kept digging and wouldn’t give up.’

‘Did you know who she was?’

‘Not at first, but she couldn’t deny her looks. She was the image of her… when she was young.’

This confused Lottie for a second. ‘Who? Her mother? Who was her mother?’

Irene dodged the question. ‘There were shades of her father in there too. The ruthlessness. The doggedness.’

‘You mean Gordon Collins?’

‘You know about it then.’

‘Just that he was her father,’ Lottie conceded.

‘Ask him about it.’

‘I can’t. His house was burned down and he’s having an operation.’

‘God Almighty. Is he okay?’

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