Page 107 of The Guilty Girl

‘He flatly denied drug use.’

‘Did you take that at face value?’

‘I believed him. He’s clean. And if you knew Terry you’d believe him too. He gives his time and energy to his sport, even helps the youngsters.’

‘And you got this email from someone in Spain?’

‘I thought so. I went over there to check with my business associates. I wanted to look them in the eye and see their reactions.’

‘Why didn’t you report the matter to the gardaí? We have people who could have traced the sender.’ Though she wasn’t so sure about that. Gary was still having trouble with Lucy’s mystery email.

‘I was warned not to go to the guards.’

‘Right. Did you pay up?’

‘No. It takes time to access that amount of money.’

‘So you left your seventeen-year-old daughter at home for three weeks with a threat hanging over you? From what I’ve heard, you doted on Lucy, so that makes no sense to me.’ She shook her head emphatically. Albert’s actions defied logic.

‘The threat was not against my family; it was a threat to my business. They said they’d post the claim on the internet, and once something is online, people judge you without bothering to discover the facts. Mud sticks. It sticks for ever, even after everything is proven to be incorrect.’

‘I want to see that email.’

‘I’ll forward it to you.’

‘I want it in the next hour. You should have informed me of this threat yesterday.’

Albert buried his face in his hands, sobbing loudly. ‘My baby girl is dead, and now I don’t know if it’s because I’m a thick-headed bastard whose pride in my work was stronger than my loyalty to my family. You have to find out who killed her.’

His tears made Lottie uncomfortable. She felt in her gut that he still wasn’t giving her the whole picture. But with him so upset, there was no point in continuing the conversation.

Too little too late, my friend, she thought. Too little too late.

50

She left the incoherent Albert fruitlessly trying to stem a dam of guilt.

She found it hard to believe that someone would resort to killing his daughter rather than following through on their threat to expose him. It didn’t make sense. Techie Gary had better come good with tracing the sender of the emails.

At the McAllister house, Gráinne Nixon was outside by the hot tub.

Breathing in the fresh air, Lottie walked through to the garden, pulling on gloves. The area was expansive. Perfectly cut grass beneath the recent mess. The shrubs lining the perimeter might have been trimmed with nail scissors they were so precisely pruned. Could Cormac O’Flaherty be that gifted?

Even though the air was cleaner than inside, there was no mistaking that the party had spilled outside. Glass, crisps, peanuts and pizza crusts crunched underfoot as she circled the hot tub to face the lead SOCO.

‘Where exactly did you find Lucy’s phone?’ she asked.

‘Behind that hedge.’ Gráinne pointed towards the symmetrical greenery at the left of the tub.

Inspecting the area, Lottie noted how thoroughly the woman had performed her task. Dry earth had been brushed away from the roots of the bushes.

‘Was it buried?’

‘Not as such. It was in a little bit, face down like it had been flung or hidden there. I had photos taken before I removed it.’

‘Where is it now?’

‘Inside. Bagged and tagged.’