Hidden ( CSI Reilly Steel #3) Read online

  Reilly swallowed the lump in her throat. ‘Me too. You take care for the moment and I’ll talk to you again soon, OK?’ She patted Dawn Rogers’s hand before heading back to the GFU van.

  Some time afterwards, the tent and supporting concealments were erected.

  A large tent had been set up with one end open to allow the small digger access. The GFU van was parked with its rear doors facing the open end of the tent, with two sets of privacy tarpaulin screens either side of the van. This gave Reilly and Gary enough room for the zinc-lined shell into which they would manouevre the casket once it was out of the ground.

  The press and photographers had to make do with pictures of a white forensic tent and the GFU van which would surely not be graphic enough for the front pages.

  This was enough to satisfy the DOE officer, who retreated to the comfort of his car while he waited to verify the casket number and finish his paperwork.

  Any other police and officials on the scene stood off to the side, leaving room for the mini-digger, which proceeded to peel back the first few layers of soil. A workman with a shovel would carefully uncover the rest.

  ‘So what are you hoping to find once you get her up?’ Kennedy asked, blowing out cigarette smoke, while they waited for the heavy digging to finish.

  ‘Hopefully, a casket in relatively good shape and a corpse that will, at the very least, enable us to confirm ID,’ Reilly said, raising her voice over the churning noise of the excavator.

  And if they were lucky perhaps a few more clues that would help them figure out where she, Sarah and Conn had been held.

  The machine noise stopped.

  They all stood back and waited as one of the workers continued unearthing the layers of soil immediately above the casket. He needed to be more careful than the excavator for fear of damaging anything, but the sound of the shovel scraping through the soil in the falling darkness of the cemetery was still bone-chilling.

  ‘Looks like he’s reached the coffin,’ Chris said, when eventually the worker stopped and shouted something to one of his colleagues above the grave.

  All turned and looked back expectantly into the hole.

  ‘Excuse me, Detectives?’ one of the corporation workers called out. ‘I think you need to come and look at this.’

  ‘Have you found it?’ Kennedy asked.

  The man shook his head. ‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you,’ he said, a little uncomfortably. ‘Come and see. This grave is empty, there’s nothing to find.’

  A little while later, Reilly and the detectives reconvened back at the incident room, trying to make sense of what they’d just discovered.

  Or not. The interment records for the cold case clearly showed the date and time of burial, as well as a casket number. As there was no record of a family member coming forward to claim the body or request removal to a family plot, they could only conclude that the grave had been tampered with. The task of telling Dawn Rogers that her niece had not, after all, been located, and that her visit had been in vain would be awkward to say the least.

  ‘Somebody dug her up,’ Kennedy said, stating the obvious. ‘But who? And more to the point, why?’

  ‘With regard to who at this stage we can only conclude that it’s him,’ Chris replied, referring to the abductor.

  ‘Agreed, but why, and where’s the body now?’

  Chris breathed out deeply. ‘Maybe we’ll find the answer to that when we find Tir Na Nog.’

  Reilly rubbed her eyes. Taking into account the information Conn had given Chris about his former ‘home’, she’d spent the last few hours on Google Earth studying the topography of the area closest to where both dead girls were found, in the hope that she might be able to figure out the location. She talked as she typed on her laptop. ‘I’ve been trying to pinpoint a possible location for Tír na nÓg,’ she said. ‘Reuben set me thinking before when he said that there couldn’t be many places in Wicklow that could be considered anyone’s private heaven on earth.’

  ‘I think he was just being a smart-ass about Wicklow,’ Chris said.

  ‘Of course, but he was also right in a way. And based on the geographical information we already have, the location of the girls’ bodies, and what Conn told us about it being close to a body of water, I’ve narrowed it down to a few possiblities.’

  ‘How many possibilites?’

  She clicked on the mouse, and turned the screen so the others could see. ‘Look, here’s Sarah’s hit-and-run location and …’ She made the area map bigger. ‘The cold-case body was found here.’

  The two detectives followed along as Reilly pointed out the locations.

  ‘I started within a five-mile radius of the accident, where you had the locals canvass for information the first day,’ she explained. ‘Like we said, Sarah was barefoot, so she couldn’t realistically have traveled far.’

  ‘Assuming she did indeed walk to the location.’

  ‘Well, let’s just say for a second that she did walk, irrespective of whether she’ escaped or, like Conn, had been cast out. Her feet were not badly damaged yet her clothing was still wet – not from the drizzle, but from swimming through a water source, hence the algae in her clothes and hair.’ Reilly zoomed into a specific area on the map. ‘So I concentrated on lakes – big enough that you’d have to actually swim across it – which were also close to fertile land, possibly farmland, given what Conn told you about them growing vegetables and raising chickens.’ She zeroed in on the area a little more. ‘This place struck me first.’

  ‘Glen of the Two Lakes,’ Chris mused, as he looked at the screen.

  ‘What?’

  ‘That’s what Glendalough means in English,’ he explained. ‘We used to go there on school trips for geography class. Don’t you remember learning about U-shaped valleys?’ he continued to Kennedy. ‘That place is one of the best examples in the country. Like you said, steep cliffs and a lake, and not only that but the Glendalough area is also teeming with history.’

  ‘So if our guy has a real obsession with Celtic history and mythology, this area would be right up his street.’

  ‘Far from private, though,’ Kennedy pointed out. ‘Up there you’re more likely to encounter a busload of tourists than some kidnapper who is trying to keep kids hidden away.’

  ‘I thought that too.’ Reilly moved the screen again to show a wider cross- section of the surrounding landscape. ‘There are other lakes nearby. Sarah’s feet may not have been badly damaged if, say, she traveled over land like this…’ She circled her finger around some brown and green parts on the screen which indicated grassy areas.

  ‘Then she may well have traveled further than we had considered,’ Chris said.

  ‘Exactly. These lakes are not too isolated, they’re all good-sized, have farmable land close by, and yet are all somewhat remote.’ She clicked on a map icon that switched the screen from the satellite image to a more traditional map which made viewing surrounding roads, rivers and lakes easier.

  ‘So from east to west we have the Roundwood reservoir, Lough Dan, Lough Tay, then the Glendalough lakes before finally the Blessington lakes to the west.’ She used her pen to point to several areas on the map where the lakes were located.

  ‘OK, so which of these do you think is most likely?’ Chris asked, guessing that she had no doubt already considered them all.

  ‘Well, if it were me, and I wanted to keep away from outsiders and at the same time make it difficult for anyone to escape, I’d choose here,’ Reilly said, pointing to a secluded valley surounded by forest and a sheer, unclimbable cliff-face, bordered by a large glacial lake. ‘It’s surrounded by steep rocky slopes, woodland and more interestingly …’ She zoomed in a particular area. ‘…what looks like a patch of strand.’

  Chris stood back. ‘Or as Conn called it, a beach.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘And not just a beach but plenty of rocks and boulders to use to make offerings to this “Balor” fella.’ Kennedy indicated the visib
ly rocky western shore of the lake. ‘Good work, Miss Baywatch. We’ll make a detective out of you yet.’

  ‘Cheers,’ she replied drily.

  ‘Those fields pretty much front onto the lake,’ Chris observed. ‘Farmland?’

  ‘Possibly.’

  He peered closer at the satellite image. ‘It’s difficult to make out, but it looks like there’s a fence or stone wall on this side…’ He traced an outline round the northern end of the property.

  ‘That’s quite a lot of land,’ said Kennedy finally. ‘You’d need a few quid to be able to afford a spread like that.’

  ‘Could be a family-owned place, or maybe this guy gets more than protection for all those sculptures Conn was talking about.’

  Chris took out his phone. ‘I’ll ring the station and get someone chase Land Registry to find out who the owner of that place is.’

  Kennedy nodded. ‘Better check with the locals in that neck of the woods too – see if they know anything about who lives there.’

  He sat back down.

  Reilly stared at them both for a moment. ‘And that’s it? We just wait?’

  ‘Well, what do you suggest?’ Chris replied. ‘We can’t just call the cavalry and go charging up there. You know as well as I do that our hands are tied until we get a better sense of what we’re dealing with. We can maybe have a look around sure, but—’

  ‘Hey, I’m all for protocol, and I know what happens when procedures aren’t followed, but this is different surely. We can’t just sit on our hands when we know there may well be other children being held there.’

  ‘Like Chris said, we’ll go and check it out, have a scoot around the area,’ Kennedy told her. ‘In the meantime, it’s not like the kids are in immediate danger, seeing as Conn seemed to have nothing but good things to say about the place,’

  ‘We’ll just have to tread carefully on this one, Reilly,’ Chris reassured her. ‘First, let us check it out, see how the land lies.’

  ‘Fine,’ she concurred. ‘But if you’re going up there to check it out, I’m coming with you.’

  Chapter 25

  I sat by the water yesterday, simply watching them play. Their laughter rang out, clear as a bell, carried by the wind across the fields from a distant church. Their joy was untempered, unrestrained, no thought of tomorrow, no cares for what might happen in the future – they live in the here and now, in the eternal beauty of youth.

  The days have been difficult since she left us, but they are strong, my little swans, they are slowly recovering, finding their security again in the daily rhythm of life, the tending of the animals, the preparing of the food, the games and songs and laughter that fill their days.

  Today the sun shone, the world smiled upon us, and the children played. What else would they do? What else should they do? Childhood is for playing, for laughing, and that is what they do.

  We have created between us a place that is everything they need and nothing more. What better description of paradise could you find?

  The nights are harder, though – the young ones miss her the most, she was always there, always calm, always the comforting presence when they woke in the night with dreams of dark terror haunting them. At night they fall asleep remembering her, and fear rushes into the void that she left.

  She haunts my dreams too: her radiance, her aura of beauty. I offered her love, safety, security, eternal youth and beauty. What more could she have wanted?

  Kennedy drove hard around another corner on the country roads of Wicklow, picking up speed on a short downhill as the road snaked its way up along the course of one of many streams and rivers.

  They had decided to travel on the N81 which would take them past the Blessington Lakes, and onwards through the Wicklow Gap passing Glendalough on the way.

  Reilly sat in the back, gazing at the passing scenery. As they drove through the Wicklow Gap she was struck by the isolation of the area – dense forests had given way to heather-blanketed boglands, interspersed with varying sized boulders of granite – perfect for offerings to Balor. With Conn’s mention of his captor’s profession in mind, she took note of various rough-hewn Celtic crosses dotted along certain parts of the landscape.

  As the car swept around another corner, a stunning panorama opened up. To the right, a large waterfall plunged toward the valley floor, exposing the earth’s granite heart, while the mountain seemed to soar into the heavens, and Reilly was reminded of Tolkien’s portrayal of Middle Earth in The Lord of the Rings.

  Yes, this was indeed a suitable landscape in which to re-enact a mystical fairytale.

  Kennedy continued to drive as fast as the narrow roads would allow, seemingly oblivious to the surroundings.

  ‘Trying to impress me with your macho cop driving skills?’ Reilly teased.

  ‘Tell me again why she’s here,’ he said to Chris, feigning annoyance. ‘Shouldn’t you be staring into a microscope in your lovely white coat, and leaving the real detective work to the professionals?’

  ‘Well, seeing that it was my real detective work that got us this far, I thought I’d come along for the ride, make sure you don’t arrive here like a bull in a china shop.’

  ‘Yes, subtlety is not his forte,’ Chris said, joining in.

  ‘Thanks, mate, you’re supposed to be on my side,’ Kennedy shot back. ‘Then again I should have known better with you two. I keep saying to Josie we could do with a good day out. When are you two kids going to stop pretending you weren’t made for each other? I don’t think I can handle the tension any longer, and Josie wants a new hat.’

  ‘Very funny, smart arse,’ Chris shot back, while Reilly shook her head and stared uncomfortably out of the window. ‘You’re like a teenager sometimes.’

  ‘That’s what Josie says.’ Kennedy strained his neck to wink at Reilly in the mirror.

  ‘Speaking of the lovely Josie, how is she doing these days?’ Reilly had picked up on Josie’s health issues via the usual office gossip channels. Another detail Chris obviously hadn’t seen fit to share with her.

  Kennedy’s face clouded. ‘She’s OK. Doctor’s sending her for some more tests,’ he said, and by his expression Reilly knew it was a difficult subject and immediately wished she hadn’t brought it up.

  ‘Well, give her my best, won’t you? I haven’t seen her since … Christmas drinks last year, I think it was,’ she said, amazed at how quickly the time had passed.

  ‘Yeah, it’s been a while, and I’ll tell her you were asking for her. Will I also tell her to buy a hat?’ he added, mischievously lightening the mood as he always did when things turned difficult. They drove on past the sugarloaf mountain and turned off at the village of Roundwood, which, according to the sign, was Wicklow’s highest village in terms of altitude. Chris told Reilly about a house the drug squad had raided there a while back in which they’d found eighty grand’s worth of cannabis plants, leading to the inevitable newspaper headline ‘The Highest Village in Ireland.’

  A few miles later the road narrowed and they approched a junction. ‘OK, which way from here?’ Kennedy asked.

  Reilly checked their GPS location on her iPhone.

  ‘Go right. According to the map there’s a forestry road just up here. We might be able to park the car and go on foot from there.’ She pointed up the hill towards a thick pine forest.

  ‘What’s all this about walking? You know I don’t do walking.’

  ‘We know,’ Chris replied drolly. ‘Calm down, we’ll get out at the foresty road and have a look around. You stay in the car and keep in touch with base and see if they’ve come up with anything from the Land Registry,’ he said as the car bounced along the pot-holed surface.

  ‘Sounds fair.’

  When they reached the entrance to the road, Reilly got out of the car and stretched. Then she reached back into the car, pulled out her kitbag and slung it over her shoulder. She wore a dark blue North Face jacket and chunky hiking boots.

  Chris was wearing his usual leather jacket and T
-shirt. He shivered. ‘I feel under-dressed.’

  Reilly pointed towards the stile they had to climb over to get onto the forest path. ‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you; there are only two kinds of weather in the mountains – raining or about to rain.’

  As if to validate her point, it began to drizzle, light drops splashing onto the damp grass. Reilly paused halfway over they stile, and looked back at him. ‘You can always wait in the car with Kennedy, you know…’

  He looked back at the car where his partner was already lighting a cigarette, then peered up at the rain clouds. ‘Actually, I think I’d rather get soaked to the skin.’

  ‘You may well get your wish.’ She climbed easily over the stile and followed the worn path across the field; Chris fell into step beside her.

  From the Google Earth images and soil profile maps they had looked at, it was clear that this particular area was perfectly located for anyone wanting privacy. There was only one track leading in and out, and no other dwellings nearby. The lake, which protected the western side, was only accessible via a rambling path, which skirted the opposite shore of the lake. It was about a half-mile climb in from the road, enough to deter anyone except keen hikers.

  The route was wet and muddy from recent rainfall, and Chris soon found himself sliding about in his slick shoes. Reilly set a fast pace, stomping along in her hiking boots, seemingly oblivious to the mud underfoot or the rain overhead.

  She had the iPhone in a weatherproof holder, but she didn’t need to refer to the GPS – she had a good idea where they was going from her research. The path crossed a rocky field, then skirted another, before crossing a small ditch, half hidden in a thick hedgerow. On the other side of the ditch the land climbed slightly, obscuring their view of the lake until they were almost upon it.

  As they rounded the corner, they heard a rustling in the bushes. Startled, they both stopped and looked at each other. Chris moved past Reilly and edged slowly toward the noise. Before he could react, a man with wild hair and dressed like a mannequin from an outdoor pursuits store strode into the path in front of them.