‘He assaulted me!’ Lottie tried to stem her growing frustration. Everything in this case was sending her in increasingly dizzying circles.
‘You need to make an official statement. Oscar is a minor. We have to be careful how we handle it.’
‘Right.’ Lottie exhaled loudly. ‘He had a bicycle chain. Is it with forensics? It might have been used to beat Jake.’
‘It’s been sent for examination.’
‘Okay. I want to interview both Oscar and Ivy again. Check that they’re at home, then bring the car round the front. Any sign of Terry Starr or the McAllisters?’
‘Starr’s Range Rover went through the toll bridge earlier today. I checked with the Brook Hotel manager, and their CCTV shows both McAllisters leaving with a man who fits Starr’s description. McKeown is looking for them on whatever CCTV he can get his hands on.’
‘Ragmullin is a town, not a city. Find them.’
‘The CCTV is rubbish, though. Did you know your wound is still bleeding? It might need stitches.’
‘I’ll wear a hat.’
‘Sure you will.’ Lynch laughed as she walked off.
Downstairs, Lottie found a T-shirt balled up on the floor of her locker. It didn’t smell too bad. At least there was no blood on it. She cleaned the wound as best she could with water from a dripping tap, screeching as it stung like hell, then flicked out the T-shirt, tugged it over her head and blazed up the stairs. She flew straight into the superintendent. Oh shite!
‘Ah, Superintendent Farrell, there you are. I was looking everywhere for you.’
‘Here I am is right. You’ve been avoiding me?’
‘Not at all, just busy. Actually, I’m on my way out to interview a suspect. I’ll call into your office later.’ She made to sidestep, but the superintendent grabbed her arm.
‘Not so fast. I requested a full report into your son’s involvement in the McAllister murder case. I told you if you couldn’t give me a genuine response you’d be off the case.’
‘Did you? Gosh, I—’
‘Don’t act all innocent. That ploy might have worked with my predecessors, but it doesn’t wash with me. My office.’
‘Please, give me half an hour. I’ve the murders almost solved.’ Lottie hoped the lie didn’t show on her face. She had no idea how long she needed, but Farrell might buy half an hour. And she’d already broken one promise today; another wouldn’t make much difference.
‘You have no notion of being in my office in thirty minutes. I want … Is that blood?’
‘Shit, yeah. I got belted with a bicycle chain. I’d better go to A&E and get stitches before I faint.’
Farrell shook her head in defeat. ‘Do that, then my office.’
‘Sure thing. Thanks.’
Lottie scooted around the super and took the stairs two at a time, almost falling over her feet in her haste. This was her last chance to come good. She had to make it count.
Just as she was making her escape, McKeown called her back.
‘Hit bingo on the CCTV. We checked the footage for the night of Lucy’s murder around the homes of some of our main players. You’ll want to see this.’
Lottie took the image from him and smiled. At last!
‘You’re a star. Thanks.’
Outside, Lynch had the engine idling.
‘You have the address?’ Lottie flung herself into the passenger seat.
‘Yeah, but you forgot your hat.’