Blood Sisters Read Online Free Page A

wrong about that, sir,’ said Katie. She stood up and said, ‘Okay, then, I’ll take Horgan and Dooley with me. I imagine you’ve sent out a patrol car already?’
    ‘Three altogether. Two from here and one from Carrigaline. And Bill Phinner’s sending out a technical team. I want to get those cliffs cordoned off as soon as possible. When word of this gets around there’s going to be the usual crowd of rubberneckers and we don’t want any of them taking the high dive off the top.’
    When Chief Superintendent MacCostagáin had left, Katie tried to sip her ginger tea, but it was scalding hot and she had to leave it. She hadn’t eaten this morning because she had been so sick, so she was pleased that she had at least made herself a cold chicken and soda bread sandwich, the leftovers from last night’s supper. She took the foil packet out of her desk drawer and put it into her satchel.

4
    The rain had passed over by the time Katie reached Nohaval Cove, although the wind was still strong, and she tugged up the hood of her duffel coat as she climbed towards the grassy edge of the cliffs. Detectives Horgan and Dooley followed close behind her, their raincoats noisily flapping.
    Three gardaí were knocking metal stakes into the ground and unrolling blue and white crime scene tape, while five more were standing around talking to an ISPCA officer and two technicians in white Tyvek suits. They were all stamping their feet and jigging up and down to keep warm, so that they looked as if they were performing an old-style step dance.
    Two officers had managed to drive their Land Cruiser close to the path that led down to the beach, but everybody else had parked in a line along the muddy farm track – two patrol cars, a blue animal rescue ambulance, an estate car and a van from the Technical Bureau, and three cars which Katie recognized as belonging to news reporters. There was no sign yet of a TV outside broadcast van.
    As she approached, the guards all stopped jigging and respectfully stepped back, while Sergeant Kevin O’Farrell came forward to greet her. He was a big, blocky man, with bright sandy hair and a red face that always seemed to be close to bursting.
    ‘Glad you could make it out here, ma’am,’ he told her. ‘The press over there, they’ve been coming at me with all kinds of awkward questions, like do I think that Travellers were responsible for tossing these horses off the cliff.’
    ‘Okay, and what did you say?’ Katie asked him.
    ‘I’ve told them no comment just at the moment. The last time I talked to the press about Travellers was when they ran that sulky race up the main Mallow Road, and I got myself corped for what I said about that.’
    ‘Oh yes, I remember,’ said Katie. ‘You must never forget, sergeant, that everything the Travellers do is traditional. Traditional fighting, traditional shoplifting, traditional trespass. I don’t know if throwing horses off the top of cliffs is traditional, but I expect we’ll find out soon enough. Is this the inspector from the ISPCA?’
    ‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Sergeant O’Farrell. He beckoned the inspector to come forward – a small, neat man with a dark-brown beard. He had the gentlest brown eyes that Katie had ever seen, almost Jesus-like, and she could easily imagine him gathering abandoned puppies in his arms or leading broken-down donkeys into peaceful fields.
    ‘Tadhg Meaney,’ he said, taking off his glove and holding out his hand. ‘Normally I’m based at the Victor Dowling Equine Rescue Centre at Dromsligo. Kenneth Kearney called me this morning and asked me to come down here. It’s appalling – totally shocking. I’ve never seen anything like this in my entire nine years of working for the ISPCA. Never.’
    ‘I was told one horse was still alive,’ said Katie.
    ‘Barely. I doubt if it would have survived another twelve hours. I shot it. Quickest way.’
    ‘Do you want to take us down to the beach so that we can have a