Page 11 of The Trap by Catherine
Angela was a civilian—they were supposed to be calledGarda staffthese days, but whenever she used that term she felt like she was trying to make herself sound better, like the teenager on the petrol-station forecourt who’ll fill up your car for you claiming he’s afuel injection technician—and part of her job was to take calls like this so the actual guards wouldn’t have to be bothered by them.
“Can I ask what this is in relation to?”
“A missing person,” the woman said. She left a dramatic pause before adding, “I may have some physical evidence.”
Physical evidence. Someone had been watching too much TV. Angela rolled her eyes a second time and thought,And so it begins.
At pre-shift that morning, Don—Detective Sergeant Donal Byrne, the head of the MPU—had warned them that with potentially big news coming out of Operation Tide, the investigation into the missing women, the cranks would soon follow suit. People would suddenly be seeing the women everywhere, or remembering seeing them months ago, or accusing their neighbor of having all the women buried in his back garden because, you know, the timing of him laying down those new patio slabs was abitof a coincidence, now, don’t you think?
What the general crackpot population didn’t understand was that the MPU had nothing to do with all that. They were an in-house service, providing back-room support to Gardaí at stations around the country and liaising with (translation:bitching about??) Interpol. They dealt with people whose locations were unknown, not cases where something criminal had clearly happened. Most of their job was just keeping track of things, maintaining records.
“If you have any information that you feel may assist an active investigation,” Angela said, “you need to report it to your local station or call the—”
“I’vetriedthat,” the woman interrupted. “Several times.” There was a rush of air on the line as she exhaled in frustration. “Look,Angela, if you won’t help me, my next call will be to her family, and I’d really rather not have to do that. But I’m prepared to, if you’re not prepared to doyour job.”
Angela looked at the carrot batons and wondered if this was the universe’s way of punishing her for not eating them.
“I brought it with me,” the woman said. “I can just leave it here. But before I do, I want some assurances that someone is actually going todo somethingabout it.”
Angela hesitated. She shouldn’t encourage this, but...
“You have what with you?”
The woman muttered what sounded like a string of mild swear words and then said, “My name is Rosemary Barry-Hayes,” as if she was being forced to explain a simple concept for the hundredth time. “I volunteer three days a week in a charity shop on George’s Street. I was sorting through donations when I found a handbag with a wallet, keys, and a card in an envelope inside. A greeting card. The name on everything was Kerry Long. Kerry as in the county. I looked her up online thinking I’d try to contact her and tell her we have her things, and that’s when I found out that she’s missing. I’ve been calling and calling about this, and no one seems...”
Angela tuned out. She’d typedKerry Longinto Google and was scanning the search results. She could’ve searched for it on PULSE, but searches were monitored, and she’d prefer to know what she was dealing with before she set off any alarms higher up.
At the top of the page was a link to a brief article on The-Paper.ie from around three and a half years ago.
Gardaí seek public’s assistance in finding missing Wexford woman
27 January 2019, 4:13 p.m.
gardaíare seekingthe public’s assistance in tracing the whereabouts of a woman missing from Enniscorthy, Co. Wexford.
23-year-old Kerry Long has been missing since Thursday. Kerry is described as being 5 feet 5 inches tall, with a slim build, blonde hair, and blue eyes. She was last seen wearing black trousers, a white shirt, and a beige trench-coat.
Anyone with information is asked to contact the Garda Confidential Line on 1800 666 111 or any Garda station.
Standard low-risk missing person fare. The accompanying photo showed a smiling twenty-something in a champagne-pink strapless gown, holding a bouquet.
Angela returned to the search results, looking for amissing Enniscorthy woman found safe and wellcompanion piece, but there was none.
Her impression was that this was an elective leave-taking. An adult was technically missing because their loved ones didn’t know where they were, but there was no evidence or indication that they had come to harm. Personal items surfacing in a charity shop years after the fact wouldn’t change that, but Angela couldn’t in good conscience send the woman who’d found them back on to the street when her plan was to start bothering the family about it.
“Stay there,” she said into the phone. “I’ll come down.”
When she stood up, Don called to her from the back of the room. “What’s that all about?”
She relayed what the woman had said. “It’s safer to go and get the stuff off her, isn’t it? Keep the peace.”
Don nodded. “What did you say the name was again?”
“Of the missing person? Kerry Long.”
“Kerry Long,” he repeated, like he was trying the words out for size. Then he waved a hand, dismissing her.
Angela took the stairs, feeling pious for choosing to descend two flights when she could have taken the lift.
