The door shoved inwards as McKeown entered waving a printout. ‘I found where Helena’s car went.’
Lottie turned with Kirby and Lynch to watch him march up to the board.
‘ANPR at the M4 toll caught it travelling to Dublin yesterday evening. And it passed through again this morning at two a.m.’
‘And where is it now?’
‘Caught it on the bridge at Millie’s garage heading downtown this morning. I checked all the traffic cams and figured it had returned to the council car park beside Herbal Heaven. I’ve just scanned that footage. It’s there. Parked by an end wall.’
‘And the women?’
‘I haven’t gone down to look yet.’
‘Why are you still here then?’
McKeown flushed up to his scalp. ‘Right. I’ll go now.’
‘I’ll go with you.’ Lottie grabbed her bag. ‘Keep teasing it out on the board. Something will click. And Kirby, do more digging on that Luke Bray. Lynch, see if there’s anything in Bardon or Dalton’s lives we need to know about. But before you do anything, find bloody Boyd for me.’
Lottie and McKeown approached Helena’s car cautiously and tugged on gloves. She had tried calling Boyd on the short drive to the car park, but he hadn’t picked up. Reining in her frustration, she peered in through the windscreen with McKeown at her shoulder.
‘Empty,’ he said.
‘I can see that.’ She moved to the driver’s door. ‘Unlocked.’
She leaned inside. The seats were clear, and though the footwell on the passenger side contained some fast-food wrappers, nothing seemed out of place. Not a shred of rubbish in the back. Was it too clean? She pressed the boot lever. Empty. Not even a spare tyre.
‘Go back over the security footage.’ She pointed to the camera at the entrance. ‘I want to see who drove it in and who got out of it.’
‘Sure.’
‘Let’s have a look around Helena’s shop.’
The shop was right beside the car park, and she was surprised to find the shutters open. She glanced at McKeown, who shrugged.
Inside, the little bell tinkled and she held a hand to her chest in anticipation. What if the killer had taken Helena and had her displayed grotesquely waiting to be found? She heard a sound like a kettle boiling.
‘Wait here,’ she told McKeown. She moved forward.
‘Be with you in a minute.’ The voice came from the door at the back of the little shop, just before a woman stepped out holding a mug. The scent of coffee wafted towards Lottie.
‘Oh, Inspector.’ Orla Keating slopped her drink on the floor. She stepped over the spillage, her white trainers avoiding it, though Lottie saw a splash land on her pink leggings. ‘How can I help you?’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘Helena asked me to open up. She wasn’t feeling well.’
‘And when did she ask you to do that?’
‘Early this morning.’
‘How did you get the keys?’
‘She has spares hidden out the back. Told me where to find them.’ Orla had moved to the counter and seated herself on the stool at the till. Her voice was calm. ‘What is this about?’
‘Were you driving Helena’s car?’
‘When?’