The Nameless Dead by Brian McGilloway Page A

seen what he was looking for but couldn’t quite reach it. Pulling his trouser legs up a little, he took a tentative
step towards the mound, then a second. Leaning slightly forwards, he stretched to reach the bag. He straightened, took the stick and reached with it, twisting the stick as he fished for purchase on
the bag. Finally, he leant a little too far and fell forward, having to use both hands, with only limited success, to prevent himself falling face-first onto the mound of effluent. Having decided
he had already got himself dirty he took a final step forwards and lifted the bag.
    For a second he seemed to struggle to understand why the bag was illuminated. Then he turned to where we stood, torches shining on him and his find.
    ‘Weren’t you ever told drugs would land you in a heap of shit?’ I asked him.

Monday, 29 October

Chapter Sixteen
    ‘I understand you allowed a suspect to sit in a cell for three hours last night covered in excrement.’
    I had hardly made it onto Islandmore the following morning, when Superintendent Patterson arrived. The Commission had started early, having managed to get the new machinery delivered as a matter
of priority. Millar was hopeful, he said, that they might have some luck in the search for Cleary by the end of the day.
    The progress was slow and methodical. The digger operator scraped across the surface of the site where they were digging, lifting soil to a depth of four inches or so at a time. This soil was
then deposited to his right-hand side, clear of the flagged spot the dog handler had marked two days previous. Jonas then sifted through the clay, looking for bone fragments, or anything which
might indicate the presence of a corpse.
    ‘He was found with enough drugs to supply the town for a week. We’ve charged him already; he’s out on bail.’
    ‘There’ll be complaints,’ Patterson continued. ‘His lawyer has already been in touch with the local papers.’
    ‘Do you think he’ll get much sympathy? A dealer crawls through shit to get his stash and is caught in the process? Plus, who’d want to buy from him now, wondering if the goods
they’ve just bought came via the U-bend?’
    I could tell from the tone of his voice that Patterson was not that annoyed.
    ‘It’s hardly the result of the year, mind you.’
    ‘But enough to convince Vincent Morrison that we’re still watching him.’
    ‘I don’t think you leave him any room for doubt about that,’ he muttered. Then he added irritably, ‘What’s happening with the son’s case?’ He nodded
towards the dig site.
    ‘We know Cleary was seen at Jimmy Callan’s house on the evening of his death.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘Callan was the father of—’
    ‘Dominic Callan,’ Patterson said. ‘I remember. Is he their main suspect?’
    ‘At the minute I thinks he’s their only suspect. Cleary was at his house at 8 p.m. but died in the early hours. They still haven’t recovered his phone or the contents of his
wallet. Hendry tells me they’re running a reconstruction this evening; I’ll probably cut across and offer some help.’
    Patterson nodded. ‘Get this whole business cleared up ahead of the 2nd. The last thing we need is this all still boiling on when we get as far as that commemoration thing.’
    ‘I’ll do my best.’
    Once things were running smoothly with the dig, I excused myself, claiming I had paperwork to catch up on. In reality, I spent most of that morning with Joe McCready working
our way through the list of names John Reddin had given me. Patterson had made it clear he didn’t want me to follow up on the dead child, but I also knew that, with the two bridges down by
the time the child was buried, whoever had brought her onto the island would have needed a boat. And, as Reddin had suggested, only net men and smugglers would have run boats at that point on the
river. If one of them hadn’t been the boat man, they might at least know who had been. I was acutely aware that the