Hidden ( CSI Reilly Steel #3) (28 page)

Missing Country: Ireland

Case Number: IIRGSmk24

Circumstances: Grace Gorman is missing from her home at 23 Marley Court, Rathfarnham, Co. Dublin since 14
th
of August 1997. When last seen she was wearing blue denim jeans, a white ‘Boyzone’ embossed T-shirt and brown suede boots, and a silver necklace with a distinctive star-shaped pendant hanging from it.

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The low level of detail was striking, and while Reilly knew that this was a basic information sheet, and more details would be found in the rest of the sizable file, she had expected more.

She read on through the remaining details under the
Age Progression CGI image. 

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Gender: Female

Height: 5’ 3
” (160cm) approx

Weight: 125 lbs (56.7 kg) approx

Build: Teenager

Hair Color: Sandy

Eye Color: Blue

[1 line break]

As Reilly started to leaf though the assorted documents she began to get a clearer image of what
had happened. She read the report of the officer who’d called to the family home after Grace had failed to return from a friend’s house on an August evening that summer.

The statement from Gorman’s wife Joan, who was described by the officer as ‘distraught’
, reported that she’d allowed her daughter go to a friend’s house that afternoon, expecting her back by six p.m.

The officer had gone on to describe how Joan had phoned the friend
’s house and spoken to her mother, only to be told that Grace had left at five p.m. The statement had been taken at eight p.m., three hours after Grace had last been accounted for.

The initial report listed Gorman himself as ‘absent for work reasons but en-route home
.’

Reilly could imagine the panic
: no mobile phones to keep in touch, a husband desperately trying to make his way home from a job somewhere.

And all the while
, she couldn’t help imagining a fresh faced, blue-eyed teenage girl, wondering what was happening around her, not realizing her life and the lives of those around her would never be the same again.

There was a lot of activity over
the first couple of days of Grace’s disappearance. Senior members of the Missing Persons Bureau, which had been set up only five years earlier, had become involved almost immediately and a nationwide campaign had been launched with ads in newspapers as well as appeals for information on the main evening news.

Reilly leafed through more documentation, copies of ads from the paper, details of numerous
so-called leads that had ended up going nowhere. The case even featured on
Crimecall
, a national TV show seeking information from the general public. The programme had re-enacted Grace’s last known movements in the hope of jogging somebody’s memory. Reilly could sense the frustration from the file – dead ends and false hope. Multiple leads being chased up fruitlessly. The Irish authorities had been quick to link up with international counterparts in case she had absconded or been taken abroad but to no avail.

She
read through several interviews with Grace’s friends, which seemed to paint her in the same light as Lucy had: a happy, loving girl with absolutely no reason to run and every reason to stay. 

There was a transcribed interview with a ‘boyfriend’ whom the parent
s had evidently known little about, but her friends had spoken of.

Fifteen-year-old Darren Keating was interviewed twice, and it seemed was high on the investigating team
’s suspect list. He had a weak alibi, but had remained steadfast in his own defense that he had not seen Grace much since the school holidays and that they had just ‘shifted’ a couple of times. Reilly guessed that ‘shifted’ was a local term for ‘snog’ rather than anything more intimate.

Keating
’s involvement had eventually been dismissed when two friends and a surveillance camera placed him in an amusement arcade at the time of Grace’s disappearance.

Leaving the file aside,
Reilly got up and went to the coffee machine, lost in thought.

She wondered
what, if anything, she could bring to this case but she had made a promise to Lucy and she intended to keep it.

T
here was no physical evidence, in fact there was little evidence of any sort. Grace Gorman had vanished into thin air, and the investigation that followed for years afterwards was broadly based on appeals for help from somebody who might know something. The person or persons who might have were clearly not willing to help, and until they were, the trail was cold.

Returning to her desk, coffee in hand, she resolved to temporarily put aside thoughts of poor Grace Gorman and tried for the moment to turn her attention back to the investigation she
could
bring something to.

She was still thinking
about what she’d seen at the entrance to the property in Wicklow and was almost certain that the place was indeed the location Conn had described.

She was also thinking about the generator
, and specifically the traces of paraffin and petrol they’d found on both girls. The running of generators on this fuel combination would have been very common years ago but was unusual now. Which meant that the generator was old. It had certainly looked it and, given its age, she guessed that such apparatus was notoriously unreliable, and would need specialist attention when it came to servicing or repairs.

Turning to her computer, she brought up a list of relevant mechanical engineering companies throughout the
Wicklow/Dublin area. It was a long directory, and Reilly’s to-do list was even longer, but she had a sneaking suspicion the answer lied in it.

Chapter 27

Later that afternoon,
Chris and Kennedy pulled up to the large hangar-sized building just outside Blessington. The gates were open and a van was parked outside.

Getting out of the
car, they made their way to the reception hatch, trying to avoid the spilled oil and puddles on the way.

‘Lakeside Engineering?’ Kennedy asked loudly to the overall
-clad figure inside.

‘Yep, what can I do you for?’ The voice was jocular, easygoing.
‘Mick Wilson.’

‘Detectives Delaney and Kennedy from Harcourt Street
station.’

Wilson’s
face changed immediately. ‘Never a good start to a morning … what’s going on?’ 

‘We just wanted to ask you a question connected to an ongoing enquiry. We believe you hold the service contract for a generator near Roundwood
, owned by one David McAllister?’

‘
Oh right, somebody phoned this morning about that. Yeah, we’ve been looking after that antique for years. Dan is the man to talk to about that, he usually does the callouts for it. Was out there several times last year as I recall. Ended up custom making parts for it; it’s so old.’ There was a brief pause.  ‘Like I said, it’s ancient and well past needing replacement, but your man wouldn’t hear of it. So if anything’s gone wrong with it …’

‘
No, it’s nothing like that,’ Chris put in quickly. ‘We’d just like to talk to your service engineer about what he might have seen while he was out there.’

Wilson
shook his head. ‘A weird place. Been up there myself in the past. All those fences and cameras. Always wondered what was going on, thought it might be some kind of government place or something.’

Kennedy looked at his watch.  ‘What time does
Dan get in at?’

‘He’s supposed to be in five minutes ago
, so I’d expect him in another ten, at least.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘You know what young lads are like these days.’

‘Right.’ Chris stepped inside the workshop. There was a long bench running down the middle of the floor, laden with generators and motors in various stages of disassembly. He could see the questions in Wilson
’s face. ‘Don’t worry. I meant what I said. He hasn’t done anything wrong.’

The owner
looked relieved. ‘Oh good. He’s a nice kid, works hard. It’s not easy getting help these days – not anyone worthwhile, anyway.’ He led the detectives through the workshop towards the back.

‘Ah, speak of the devil ...’

A young man of about twenty-five walked through the front door with a backpack slung over one shoulder.  

‘
Dan, these two gentlemen want to have a chat with you about that place up near Roundwood with the old Briggs & Stratton,’ Wilson told him. ‘They’re detectives.’

The engineer’s
face automatically reddened, and Chris glanced sideways at Kennedy to see if he, too, had caught the reaction.

‘
Oh … right yeah, that place. What do you want to know?’ he stammered as he laid his bag down on the bench.

‘
We are currently investigating some suspicious activity in the surrounding area, and would be grateful for your assistance. What can you tell us about your time there?’

Dan
looked like he’d been punched in the stomach.

‘
Look, it was a mistake, all right?’ he blustered. ‘I didn’t want to get involved and things just … got out of hand.’

What the …? Chris was completely taken aback by
man’s reaction.

His boss frowned.
‘Involved in what? What’s going on?’

‘Mr Wilson, do you think we might have a minute with Dan alone?’ Kennedy said.

‘
Sure, call if you need me,’ he said reluctantly, before retreating outside.

The engineer
stepped out from behind the bench and placed his hands deep into his pockets. 

‘So s
pit it out,’ Kennedy demanded. ‘What happened up there?’

‘
Look, she said she was eighteen, OK? I believed her, she looked it… and acted much older … I didn’t want to get involved, I have a girlfriend and a daughter …’ He looked crestfallen. ‘She won’t find out, will she? My girlfriend, I mean,’ he added, his head still bowed.

All of this was so unexpected that Chris wasn’t sure how to proceed. What girl was he talking about? 
‘That depends on you. Tell us everything. And start at the beginning.’

‘
I only started doing servicing out there about two years ago after Jimmy left. I thought it was strange at first, all the security, and rules.’

‘
Rules?’

‘
Yeah. Like there was a certain way things had to be done. I’d have to be there at twelve o’clock on the button, he opens the outside gate but that’s as far as I get. I do my work on the generator, and then I leave.’

‘
He – you mean the owner?’

‘
I suppose. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist, if you know what I mean. I know he’s some weird artist type; he’d sometimes have statues and things on pallets inside the gate. He told me he sculpted them himself when I asked him – pretty cool, they were.’

‘
So you go in, work on the generator. How does he know when you’re ready to leave?’

‘
There’s a bell on the inside gates,’ explained Dan.  ‘I ring that then he opens the outer gates again.’

‘
So what about this “mistake” then?’ Chris prompted, not wanting to give him too much time to pick his words.

A look of shame crossed
the engineer’s face. ‘That genny should have been long retired, it wasn’t designed to run multiple power outlets, especially not on that fuel combination. Last summer I ended up having to call nearly every other week after it shut down completely, then had to make up some parts here and install them because Mick wasn’t able to source new ones.’

Dan
gazed around the yard, gathering his thoughts.  ‘I told your man that it would be cheaper and quicker to just replace the stupid thing, but he wouldn't hear of it. He seemed a decent sort but a bit of a hippy type – I reckoned he just wouldn’t spent the cash on a new one.’

He paused for breath. ‘
So anyway, a couple of times I’m out there I can hear a couple of kids whispering in the bushes beside the gate.’

The hair on the back of Chris’s neck stood up and he glanced
discreetly at Kennedy. ‘Kids? You’re sure?’

Dan
shrugged. ‘Yeah. I figured there was a family living there. But the kids wouldn’t talk back when I spoke to them, so I ignored them until one day she got brave and started talking to me.’

Was
he referring to Sarah? Desperate as he was to get to the point, Chris decided to let Dan ramble on. They needed to let him tell his own story.

‘
Anyway, to cut a long story short, she was nice, a little bit shy, always asking me questions, but she would never answer mine. I didn’t mind, she was cute and it was someone to talk to while I worked. Sometimes she’d ask if I wanted to hear her sing which was a little weird, and at first I thought she might be a bit … you know… s
pecial
.’ He said the last word in a low whisper.