Page 157 of The Guilty Girl

‘Can you get them?’

‘No problem at all.’ Rita trod over to the door and yelled into the hall. ‘Ivy! Oscar! Get in here.’ She marched back into the room. ‘Have you got kids, Inspector?’

‘Three.’

‘It’s a huge responsibility, isn’t it?’ She turned to Lynch. ‘You look too young to have any.’

Lynch was saved by the door swinging inwards, thumping against the wall.

A sullen-faced Oscar stomped in, followed by Ivy still holding her nail polish but without the cupcake. They plonked themselves on the couch. Ivy folded her arms.

Lottie watched the boy as he picked at the skin around his left thumb. Where Ivy was full of bravado, her brother appeared nervous.

‘Oscar, you know you will be charged with assaulting me?’ Lottie touched the back of her head, unsurprised to see blood on her fingers.

Standing with her back to the fireplace, Rita seemed to grow taller with indignation. ‘You mean … the blood … your head? No way. My boy may be a bit of a troublemaker, but he’d never do that.’

‘A bit?’ Ivy snorted.

‘The fact is,’ Lottie said, ‘I was assaulted by your son earlier today.’

A stern mask fell over Rita’s happy face. ‘What proof do you have?’

‘I was there. He was there. A colleague of mine was also present.’

‘He was outside,’ Oscar muttered. ‘Look at my wrists. He had no right to tie me up.’

Rita’s eyes turned cold, her body rigid. ‘This conversation is over.’

‘We also need to talk to Ivy about Lucy,’ Lynch said softly. ‘There’s nothing to be concerned about.’

‘On condition you don’t accuse my girl of anything.’ Rita squeezed onto the couch beside her progeny.

Lottie took the CCTV image from her bag. ‘Ivy, we checked the CCTV in this area. It shows you exiting a van at 4.35 on Saturday morning. The driver also got out.’ She was thankful for McKeown’s expertise.

Ivy grew rigid and silent.

‘Ivy, how do you know Richie Harrison?’

‘I don’t know him as such. Just that he’s a DJ.’ Ivy looked like a rabbit in the headlights.

‘That’s enough,’ Rita said.

Lottie ignored her and turned her attention to Oscar. ‘Do you know Richie Harrison?’

He dipped his head with a shake.

Ignoring an increasingly agitated Rita, she said, ‘Oscar, I need you to tell me exactly what happened today at your hideout in the army barracks.’

‘Nothing happened.’

‘Did you stab Sharon Flood?’

‘I never touched her,’ he insisted, still not looking at her.

Rita’s jaw dropped. Lottie hurried on.

‘Do you know who did?’

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