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Chapters (69)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. Prologue
  5. Chapter One
  6. Chapter Two
  7. Chapter Three
  8. Chapter Four
  9. Chapter Five
  10. Chapter Six
  11. Chapter Seven
  12. Chapter Eight
  13. Chapter Nine
  14. Chapter Ten
  15. Chapter Eleven
  16. Chapter Twelve
  17. Chapter Thirteen
  18. Chapter Fourteen
  19. Chapter Fifteen
  20. Chapter Sixteen
  21. Chapter Seventeen
  22. Chapter Eighteen
  23. Chapter Nineteen
  24. Chapter Twenty
  25. Chapter Twenty-One
  26. Chapter Twenty-Two
  27. Chapter Twenty-Three
  28. Chapter Twenty-Four
  29. Chapter Twenty-Five
  30. Chapter Twenty-Six
  31. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  32. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  33. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  34. Chapter Thirty
  35. Chapter Thirty-One
  36. Chapter Thirty-Two
  37. Chapter Thirty-Three
  38. Chapter Thirty-Four
  39. Chapter Thirty-Five
  40. Chapter Thirty-Six
  41. Chapter Thirty-Seven
  42. Chapter Thirty-Eight
  43. Chapter Thirty-Nine
  44. Chapter Forty
  45. Chapter Forty-One
  46. Chapter Forty-Two
  47. Chapter Forty-Three
  48. Chapter Forty-Four
  49. Chapter Forty-Five
  50. Chapter Forty-Six
  51. Chapter Forty-Seven
  52. Chapter Forty-Eight
  53. Chapter Forty-Nine
  54. Chapter Fifty
  55. Chapter Fifty-One
  56. Chapter Fifty-Two
  57. Chapter Fifty-Three
  58. Chapter Fifty-Four
  59. Chapter Fifty-Five
  60. Chapter Fifty-Six
  61. Epilogue
  62. Prologue
  63. Chapter One
  64. Acknowledgements
  65. Credits
  66. More from Claire Allan …
  67. About the Author
  68. Also by Claire Allan
  69. 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?’