Page 121 of The Guilty Girl
‘Did you notice it on any other photos?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Keep at it. Good work, Maria.’
Lynch beamed. ‘I’ll send the image to Gary’s team. They should be able to enhance it.’
‘Anything else of interest on this Finsta?’
‘I’ve only just found it.’
‘Okay. Any developments with that email that was sent to Lucy?’
‘Not yet.’
‘Albert was to forward the threatening email he received.’ She filled Lynch in as she checked her phone for it. ‘Nothing.’
She’d give him an hour and then, grieving father or not, she was going after Albert McAllister.
* * *
When Lottie drifted away to bring Lucy’s phone to Gary, Lynch got back to business. She parked the job of trawling Lucy’s social media and instead concentrated on finding out more about Terry Starr. She accessed his Instagram account. It consisted of boxing tips and triumphs. She kept digging and was rewarded when she found he too had a Finsta account. She made a call to the tech team, and within five minutes she had access.
Terry Starr hadn’t posted as much as Lucy had on Finsta, and Lynch scrolled through his photos scrutinising each image.
Was she imagining it? Seeing something that wasn’t there? Was her tired brain concocting a scenario from her imagination? No, she thought, it was there on the screen. About ninety per cent of the images she’d looked at so far were of teenage girls. And they all looked younger than eighteen.
If Terry had been a pop star or a famous footballer, it might have made more sense, but boxing? She didn’t know what to think.
She scratched her head with the end of her Bic pen and glanced around the office for someone to nab. She needed a brain to pick. Kirby had returned from town and appeared to be half asleep at his desk as he mechanically dipped his hand in and out of a McDonald’s carton.
‘Kirby, come here and take a look at this.’
‘Give me a minute. There’s a piece of chicken stuck in my teeth.’ He was working at it with the corner of a sheet of paper.
Lynch glared.
He held up his hand in surrender and slouched over to her desk. As he leaned over her shoulder, she wondered when he’d last had a shower.
‘What age does that girl look?’ she asked.
‘There’s a lot of girls there. Give me a hint.’
‘For the love of God!’ She zoomed in and bit her lip.
‘Oh,’ Kirby said.
‘Oh is right.’ She stared at the young girl to the right of the image of Terry surrounded by a posse of teenagers. ‘She looks about thirteen, don’t you think?’
‘What site is that on?’
Lynch explained Finsta once again. ‘I’ll have to dig deeper.’
‘This is sick, you know.’
‘The more I delve into this case, the more it makes me want to throw up. And vital pieces of the jigsaw are missing.’
Kirby laid a hand on her shoulder before returning to his depleted box of cold nuggets and fries, digging in like it was a condemned man’s last meal.