Red Ribbons by Louise Phillips Read Free Book Online

off, you know the way it is.’
    ‘Lunch?’
    ‘You’re a mind-reader, O’Connor. I’m heading for the Legal Eagle.’
    ‘Mind if I join you?’
    ‘I assume there is more to this than lunch?’
    ‘You assume right.’
    Lunchtime at the Legal Eagle was always hectic, but they got lucky – a corner table came free as they arrived. The pub smelled of roast beef and strong coffee. It was dark coming in from outside, the place packed with city workers amidst the clatter of trays and easy conversation. Once the preliminaries of ordering lunch were dispensed with, O’Connor set about his real task.
    The contents of the envelope he handed to Kate were stark. All the images, except for one – a school photograph of the victim – had been taken at the mountain burial site where the young girl’s body had been found. Working her way through the photographs, Kate was immediately gripped by what she saw. As each of the images revealed itself, she got the sense that everything about her first introduction to this young girl would remain with her, like a recurring bad dream.
    ‘Not pretty,’ he remarked drily.
    ‘They never are, O’Connor.’
    ‘Well, what do you think?’
    ‘I’m guessing this is unofficial?’
    ‘It is for now.’
    ‘These things take time to assess, O’Connor, you know that.’
    ‘Yeah, well, sadly we don’t always have the luxury of time. Rohan is doing his best, but the press is going mad with this thing, even bloody Twitter has gone crazy with it, trending top of the Irish tweets, whatever the hell that means.’
    ‘As I say, there are never any quick answers, Detective Inspector.’
    ‘I know, I know, but gut reaction.’
    ‘Gut reactions can mean jumping to wrong conclusions. Leading you down the garden path isn’t going to help anyone.’
    ‘Kate, I’m asking you off the record. What do you think?’
    Just as she was about to share her thoughts, O’Connor’s mobile rang.
    ‘Sorry, I have to take this. I’ve been waiting for this call.’
    ‘Sure, go right ahead.’
    O’Connor stepped outside, giving her the opportunity to study the images alone. The light in the pub was dull, but the more she looked at the photographs, the more her eyes became accustomed to it. The shots were taken from different angles and at varying ranges: the girl’s body seemed tiny, black clay beneath her nails, her fingers long, wrists narrow, almost doll-like. The tech guys looked to have done their job well. Every square inch of what could have been the victim’s final resting place was covered with white chalk marks and numbered flags. All potential pieces of evidence were noted in the shots, ranging from close-ups to wide angles of the surrounding area – and it would seem O’Connor, as the Senior Investigating Officer, had pushed the boundaries out pretty far when cordoning off the area.
    The terrain was certainly challenging. In the images, she could see the uniformed guards posted at various points to protect the site and the tech guys at work, including Hanley, whom she had met on the Dunmore case. Gone were the days when members of the force could enter a site uninvited, high ranking or not. Now when it came to protection of a crime scene, there was no doubt who called the shots, and Hanley wouldn’t be backward about reminding people.
    In the grave, the girl was still wearing her school uniform – sky-blue cardigan and shirt with a navy pinafore and tie – which Kate recognised from a local school near where she lived. The girl’s body was lying sideways in the foetal position, her hands joined to the front, each of the fingers intertwined, almost as if they were clasped in prayer. The right side of her head, which received the blows, had beenplaced downwards into the soil, the hardened blood matted into her hair, protecting it initially from view. It would have been an arduous process, but photographs of every movement of the body at the ‘seat’ of the find had been taken, and