The Nameless Dead Read Free Page A

the name,
pronouncing both the ‘n’ and the ‘m’.
    ‘It’s pronounced Crawaa . Tra na Cnamha means the Beach of Bones,’ I translated. ‘But I’ve never heard the name being used for Islandmore.’
    ‘In the eighteenth century, locals called the island Innis na Cnamha. We found it on an old Donegal fishing map in the Linenhall Library in Belfast. It was the name, Isle of Bones, that
alerted us to the probability that there might be a cillin on the site,’ he explained, again speaking to Mary Collins.
    She nodded. Sean glanced across at her quizzically.
    ‘We’d only got that name when you told us about the map you were sent. We’ve worked as quickly as we can. And, again, if the same person sent you the map as contacted us, it
suggests that he or she is feeling incredibly guilty about what happened. Thirty-five years on.’
    ‘And that’s the best we can expect? That whoever did it feels a bit guilty? My heart bleeds.’
    ‘That’s enough, Sean,’ Mary Collins said. ‘These men are doing their best. They’ll bring Declan home. That’s all I want now.’
    ‘It’s not what I want,’ Sean Cleary said, his voice breaking slightly. He was a big man when he stood, just under six foot, though, I suspected, edging near sixteen stone.
Despite being in his mid-thirties, though, his voice and manner were a teenager’s. ‘That’s not justice. It’s not good enough.’
    ‘It’s all we can do.’
    ‘Well, it’s not good enough for me,’ he snapped, standing and leaving the room.
    Mary Collins stood with that, extending her hand to Millar.
    ‘I apologize for Sean. You’re doing very good work, Mr Millar,’ she said. ‘You don’t know how important it is. Thank you.’
    ‘We’ll work as fast as we can,’ Millar assured her.
    She nodded, though the increasing glinting in her eyes suggested she could not trust herself to speak further without tears.
    ‘When will the post-mortem be held on the baby?’ I asked, when we got back into the car. ‘I’ll want to get things moving.’
    Millar stared across at me, his seat belt still gripped in his hand.
    ‘You can’t investigate it, Inspector.’
    ‘But if the PM shows the child was murdered—’
    ‘Even if,’ Millar interrupted. ‘The same rules apply as I mentioned to the son in there. Any evidence uncovered in a dig for the Disappeared can’t be used to prosecute a
case, nor can it be investigated or forensically tested. Those are the rules.’
    ‘But the baby isn’t part of the Declan Cleary killing.’
    ‘That’s not the point. It was uncovered as part of our dig; it can’t be investigated.’
    ‘Someone killed a baby. The rules need to be bent a little.’
    ‘No. We rely on people coming to us with information precisely because they know they can do so without fear of prosecution. Considering the proximity of the sites, and the depth the
infant was buried at, theoretically there’s the possibility of a connection between the two. If it became known that we were allowing investigations into old killings, our sources would dry
up. We’d recover nobody.’
    ‘But this is different.’
    He clicked the seatbelt into place. ‘You can’t investigate the baby, Inspector. That’s the law.’

Chapter Four
    By the time I got home, Debbie had dinner ready. Following the accident which had injured our daughter, Penny, a year previous, I’d tried to spend more time at home,
stopping off at meal times to see the kids. If I was running late, Debs would hold off on dinner until I was home.
    As we sat in the living room after dinner, I mentioned the find we had made on the island and Millar’s warning that I could not follow it up.
    ‘The forensics guy they had with them thinks it was a newborn,’ I concluded.
    ‘That’s horrible,’ Debbie said. She was sitting on the sofa, watching the news. Penny lay sprawled beside her, her head on Debbie’s lap, while she played a game on her
iPod. As Debbie spoke, she ruffled the soft