Can Anybody Help Me? (10 page)

‘Physical description?'

‘Black.'

Quigley raised his eyebrows and Claire sighed deeply.

‘No, seriously, that's nearly all we got out of him. Black, wearing jeans and a brown bomber jacket. Short hair. Stocky build. Didn't appear to be in a hurry, didn't appear nervous. Berry has pretty much admitted he took the money and ran,
the apartment had been vacant for ages and the owner was “desperate”—'

‘And we're talking to him?'

‘He's in Cork, two of the local lads already took a statement. Claims Berry handled everything, he just handed over the keys and his bank details. Alibi checks out. His baby daughter is being christened tomorrow, but he's coming up straight after. He sounded pretty shaken, according to Flynn. Not the news you want, is it? That someone has been found dead in your place.'

‘And you're happy with this chap Berry's statement?'

‘Not really.'

Claire frowned, and the Superintendent looked at her closely. ‘There's something … I don't know. He was talking away, then he shut up, asked for the solicitor. That's fair enough, he had the right. And then he gave a pretty full description of the fella, but … I don't know.'

She stifled a yawn and Quigley looked more closely at her.

‘It's been a long day. Sleep on it. I believe the identification is confirmed?'

‘As good as.'

The full post-mortem results wouldn't be available for a few hours yet, but the clothes and wallet found at the scene along with the woman's estimated size and age made her an exact match for Miriam Twohy, who had been missing from her home in Ballyawlann for the previous fortnight. Her parents were due at the mortuary the following morning to confirm the guards' suspicions. It was a horrific end to their search, and she could only hope that they would get some comfort from the fact that their daughter had been found.

There would certainly be no peace when the family discovered how she died.

Quigley was speaking again and she struggled to focus.

‘Keep me updated. I'll leave Flynn with you if that works?'

She nodded. Annoying hair or not, Flynn had proved himself to be an adept phone banger and she'd be happy enough to have him by her side.

‘Get some rest, so.'

He muttered the words as if unsure whether to say them, but Claire appreciated the sentiment. She stood up from the chair, utterly exhausted. Suddenly even the thought of getting herself into her car and home was too much for her and she concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other as she left the superintendent's office and walked slowly through the banks of desks and computer monitors that led to the exit door. All she could think of was sinking into a hot bath and praying Matt had thrown dinner together. But before she could reach the door, Flynn was at her side.

‘I thought you should know we got another call from that computer lady?'

‘Who?'

Tiredness made her sound grumpy and Claire regretted her tone as Flynn flushed before continuing.

‘The woman who said she knew Miriam Twohy from the internet? Well she called back to say she'd been mistaken. Her friend has turned up apparently. Wasn't the same woman after all.'

‘Grand. Whatever.'

Claire nodded and continued the long tramp through the almost deserted station and out towards the car park. She
hadn't time for housewives and their fantasies right now. A young mother was dead and she wasn't happy with how things were proceeding. Ramblings on cyberspace were one thing. This death was real.

aRRRGH

It was mostly darkness now. Some light, when she managed to open her eyes. Colour, speech, movement. All caused her pain. Darkness was easier. And in the blackness the thoughts swirled like dust mites, settling for a moment before drifting away
.

She tried to make an effort when they spoke to her. Nobody wore white coats in here, and she found that confusing. No doubt it was supposed to help, make the patients feel more comfortable, that sort of foolishness. You couldn't call anyone Doctor or Nurse either, just Jason and Courtney, and that dark-skinned girl whose name she couldn't pronounce. Then again, you weren't supposed to call them dark-skinned now either, were you? She could never remember the new words. Her head hurt just thinking about them
.

At least he allowed her to speak her mind. He'd been to see her twice now, or was it three times? No matter. He was going to get what he wanted. And then, hopefully, so was she
.

Pain. Pain came, drifted for a while, and then bit and held. She had had pain before. It's a girl. A daughter. Brightness and hope. And then sadness. Now, more pain. In the darkness, she whispered her daughter's name. He'd told her that she'd see her soon. So that was the thought she held onto
.

ROUTINE FOR TINY BABY?