The Broken Shore Read Online Free PDF Page B

serious look.
    “It looks good Liam, and I’m sure the ACC would have appreciated it.”
    “Aye, if she’d ever seen it, hey.”
    After a few more jokey comments they fell silent again. The only sound was four men eating and drinking until they’d finished their meal. As coffee was served, Craig started again.
    “Liam, find out Lissy Trainor’s movements in the last few days. Does she have a boyfriend? Who does she mix with? Who saw her last and where? You know the form. Ask Davy to chase up background when you have something for him to research. And her e-mail and phone accounts.”
    Andy interjected. “You and I can start with the ’83 case, Marc. I’ll get a copy of the file.”
    Craig glanced at his watch. “OK, let’s meet at the hotel at five o’clock for a debrief. I’ll be on my mobile till then. And if Melanie Trainor contacts any of you let me know right away. The sooner we can speak to her, the sooner we can find out why someone might have wanted her daughter dead.”
    ***
    Annette looked around the open plan office and smiled. She was in charge and she liked it. Well, not really in charge, but it was a pleasant illusion until Craig or Liam’s phone call shattered it. She yawned, tired of the file in front of her and strolled over to Nicky’s desk, indicating the percolator and switching it on at her nod. She arranged three cups and saucers as she waited for it to boil. Saucers; how long had it been since they’d used them, except for guests? Mugs had become the default when Liam was around. Nicky smiled in approval and reached into her bottom drawer, withdrawing a packet of special biscuits and arranging them daintily on a plate.
    Davy smiled at the girly ritual. While the cat’s away, the mice will use napkins. He looked up from his horseshoe of computers and shut down the report he was working on, loping over to join them. Just then a fair-haired young man pushed his way quietly through the floor’s double-doors. Annette recognised him immediately and waved, beckoning him over to Nicky’s desk.
    “Hello Jake, you must be psychic, the kettle’s just boiled.”
    The others smiled in greeting then Davy pulled up another chair and Jake McLean joined his new team for Saturday afternoon tea.
    ***
    “It was a nasty case in’83, all right. Veronica Jarvis was beaten and strangled, then buried up to her neck in sand. In exactly the same place as Lissy Trainor.”
    “The similarities are hard to ignore.”
    Andy leaned back against the desk and turned a page in the file. “There are some differences, though.”
    “Such as?”
    “Lissy Trainor wasn’t beaten and she was completely covered in sand, whereas Jarvis’ head was left exposed. Nothing showed of Lissy until the sand got eroded, and her hand was nearest the surface.”
    Craig shook his head. “The Atlantic could have eroded the sand in both cases. I’ll get Davy to check the tides now and in ‘83. But the beating might be significant.”
    “The lack of it you mean.”
    Craig nodded in acknowledgement then frowned. “Beatings were more usual back then, especially in punishment killings.”
    “You mean because Veronica Jarvis was suspected of being an informer she would have been treated worse?”
    “Yes. The paramilitaries weren’t known for their gentle ways. But that’s another thing. The IRA didn’t claim it.”
    Andy shrugged, puzzled. “Maybe because it was a girl? They thought it would make them look bad?”
    Craig smiled at his naiveté. The IRA had killed plenty of women; there was no chivalry in terrorism.
    “They weren’t gentlemen, Andy. They killed women as well. No, Ronni Jarvis might have been beaten but I don’t think the IRA committed her murder, no matter what the records say.”
    “Who then?”
    Craig shook his head. “That’s what we need to find out. But first of all we need to talk to the man the jury blamed.”
    ***
    Melanie Trainor stared unseeing into the fire, lit earlier than usual in an attempt