Page 78 of The Guilty Girl

‘Surely they would have been aware that someone else might find the body. I take your point, though. There’s no harm in keeping it in mind as we press forward.’

Lottie racked her brain to see what else needed doing, but she knew she was only delaying the inevitable conversation with McKeown. She couldn’t put it off any longer.

‘Right, that’s it for today. Detective McKeown, my office.’

36

Sitting heavily on her chair, Lottie scowled as she waited for McKeown. He was taking his damn time. She wanted to ring Boyd to find out if he’d learned anything at his end. She needed to know what Albert and Mary had been doing in Malaga that was so important they’d left their daughter home alone for three weeks.

Before she could make the call, McKeown strode in with his iPad, all business. Fuck him.

‘Take a seat,’ she said with a fake sweet smile. She could see he wasn’t buying it.

‘Thanks.’

‘What have you to tell me that I don’t already know?’

‘What do you know?’ He raised an eyebrow.

‘I’m asking the questions.’ She unfurled her clenched fists and placed her hands on the desk, out of trouble. ‘Tell me what you learned from Sean.’

McKeown scrolled his screen, then looked up with forced seriousness. ‘I established that your son left the party shortly after midnight. You picked him up. He found it hard to sleep. Warm cider at fault, he said. He denied having taken any drugs.’

‘Fair enough.’

‘During the night, he realised he’d left his new jacket at Lucy’s. Because he couldn’t sleep worrying about it, he left home around four a.m. He’s not sure of the exact time. He walked the mile or so back to the party house.’

‘I’m sure the party was long over by then.’ She couldn’t wait to get home to Sean, because she was itching to wring his neck. Metaphorically speaking. Why hadn’t he told her this?

‘The door was open. He assumed everyone had left because there was no sign of anyone around. Not at that stage.’

Lottie braced herself for the mic drop she felt he was building up to. He was in his element. A sly grin curved his lips as he delivered his news.

‘He entered the living room where he’d last seen his jacket and stumbled into the crime scene.’

‘He should have told me.’ Lottie was glad she was sitting; she felt weak.

‘Said he forgot all about looking for his jacket then because he heard someone coming down the stairs. He fled to the kitchen, where he noticed drops of blood. He must have your nosy gene, because he went up the back stairs and found Lucy’s body.’

A wave of nausea surged from her stomach and she held a hand to her mouth. ‘Good God. You’re telling me my son stumbled on Lucy’s body and never reported it?’

‘Yep.’

‘This is a nightmare.’ Then a thought struck her. ‘The killer could still have been on the premises at that stage.’

‘That depends on one simple fact.’

‘What might that be?’

‘That your son is not the murderer.’ Another sly grin slid across his face and she wanted to slap it off. Then she remembered the knife that Gráinne had found in Sean’s pocket. It wasn’t the murder weapon because the blade was too short, but it was a mercy McKeown didn’t know about it or he’d milk it for all it was worth.

She tried to keep the conversation professional while a migraine threatened to explode. ‘You said Sean heard someone coming down the stairs. If that person was the murderer, it ties in with the rough time of death Jane gave me.’

‘He thinks he heard two people talking.’

‘Thanks for not revealing this to the whole team,’ she said grudgingly. He could have made a holy show of her.

‘You do realise, Inspector, that I’ve had to log Sean’s interview.’

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