Page 17 of The Guilty Girl

‘What was this argument about?’ Lottie glanced at Martina Brennan, pleased to see the young garda taking copious notes compared to her own minuscule offering.

‘I … I don’t know. I was out in the garden and they were inside. The music stopped suddenly and I heard them shouting. But then the music started up again and that was it.’

‘Did you go inside to investigate what was going on?’

‘I could hardly stand up by then, so I stayed where I was. On the garden sofa.’

‘What time was this?’

‘I don’t know.’ Ivy twirled a tendril of hair around her finger. ‘My head is killing me. I really need to go home and lie down.’

‘Soon. What happened after that loud argument?’

Her bottom lip covered her top one as her eyes filled with tears again. ‘I can’t remember. I think Lucy came back outside. She was looking at something on her phone, but she wouldn’t show it to me when I asked. After that it’s a blur. Can I go now?’

‘Were you supposed to sleep there last night?’

‘No. Lucy’s parents were due home from Spain, and she’d arranged for the cleaner to come first thing this morning.’

‘What time did you leave?’

‘Late. I was there for the pizzas, so sometime after they were delivered.’

‘How did you get home?’

‘Erm … not sure. A taxi, maybe. Sorry, I was totally out of it.’

‘Can you try to remember when the party actually ended?’ Lottie pressed for a more definitive answer.

‘It was late. Maybe two or three-ish?’

‘Why do you think it was two or three?’

‘I don’t know for sure, but Lucy booked the DJ until two, so it was after that, okay?’

‘Who was the DJ?’

Ivy looked up and Lottie noticed a different expression on the girl’s face. It was like something had skittered across her eyes and her mouth had flatlined. Silence.

‘Well, do you know his name?’ Lottie prodded.

‘Richie something or other. Don’t know anything else about him, only that the music he played was pure shite.’

There was something else there. Lottie sensed an undercurrent but couldn’t put her finger on it. Before she could ask anything else, Ivy continued.

‘How … how did Lucy die?’

‘I’m sorry, but I can’t reveal that just yet.’

‘But someone killed her?’

‘All I can say is that we are treating her death as suspicious.’

‘Poor Lucy.’ Tears filled Ivy’s eyes and she sniffed loudly.

‘Do you know of anyone who would harm your friend?’

Ivy tugged at her lip with a pink-polished nail. ‘I don’t know. Lucy is … was very popular, but there’s always jealous bitches around, isn’t there? Especially because she was good-looking, and so brainy. And she had loads of money. She only had to ask her dad and he bought her whatever she wanted. She loved being spoiled by her dad.’ A long pause. ‘Hannah Byrne was the odd one out.’

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