Chapters (69)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Chapter Thirty-Three
- Chapter Thirty-Four
- Chapter Thirty-Five
- Chapter Thirty-Six
- Chapter Thirty-Seven
- Chapter Thirty-Eight
- Chapter Thirty-Nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-One
- Chapter Forty-Two
- Chapter Forty-Three
- Chapter Forty-Four
- Chapter Forty-Five
- Chapter Forty-Six
- Chapter Forty-Seven
- Chapter Forty-Eight
- Chapter Forty-Nine
- Chapter Fifty
- Chapter Fifty-One
- Chapter Fifty-Two
- Chapter Fifty-Three
- Chapter Fifty-Four
- Chapter Fifty-Five
- Chapter Fifty-Six
- Epilogue
- Prologue
- Chapter One
- Acknowledgements
- Credits
- More from Claire Allan …
- About the Author
- Also by Claire Allan
- About the Publisher
I didn’t see her again after that until the day of her funeral, when I saw a little white coffin being carried into the chapel.
I spend an hour making notes, snapping photos of the relevant pages on my phone and searching through boxes of negatives for the relevant original images from the time. By then the chill in the archive room has become too much and I need a coffee.
I’m walking back to my desk, when the door to the editor’s office opens and I hear my name being called.
‘Ingrid,’ Ryan says from behind his desk as I walk in. ‘Sit down.’
I take a seat for a minute or two while Ryan taps at his computer, sending emails or proofing pages or possibly just scanning Twitter. Anything to keep me waiting, to remind me that he is my boss. Eventually, he looks up.
‘You’ve been researching the Kelly Doherty anniversary story?’ he says.
I nod. ‘I have. And I’ve put the feelers out to see if Jamesy Harte will talk to us. He’s not come back to Derry, by all accounts, but I’ve been able to track down one of his cousins, who made positive noises. I’m sure as his campaign to clear his name grows, Harte’ll want to talk. Something about him … well, it never added up to me. It would be interesting to hear his side of things.’
Ryan sits back and steeples his fingers together in an exaggerated ‘I’m thinking’ pose. ‘The thing is, Ingrid, I don’t think we want to be seen to be backing Jamesy Harte in any way. He was convicted and he served his time. The law says he was guilty and I think digging too deep into that … well, it won’t make us popular.’
‘It’s not like you to shy away from a big story,’ I tell him, and it’s true. It’s one of the reasons I have stayed at The Chronicle for so long – Ryan’s willingness to push for answers, no matter how uncomfortable the questions.
‘I’m not shying away from anything, Ingrid,’ he says, his tone harsh. ‘Cover the story by all means. A measured anniversary piece. But I don’t think we should be coming down on the side of a convicted child killer.’
‘Even if he claims he’s innocent? There’s a growing body of evidence …’ I begin. ‘I’ve only started to look into it, but there seems to be something in what Jamesy is saying. This could be huge. What if there has been a huge miscarriage of justice here, Ryan? Don’t we want to be on the right side of championing that?’