tattoos. As he slid the pictures across the table, Rasher pulled a pair of glasses from the pocket of his cardigan, and perched them on the end of his nose.
The hand that reached out for the photographs was huge, with big swollen knuckles, and tattoos snaked down his arms to appear at his wrists when his sleeves slid up. He said nothing, simply studied them, one after the other, back and forth. Finally he set them down, then sipped at an open bottle of Lucozade that sat on the table in front of them He peered over the top of his glasses at Chris and Kennedy.
‘Amateur,’ he said eventually. ‘But a bloody good one.’
The detectives leaned forward, waiting for him to continue.
‘What type of ink did he use?’
‘Pig’s blood and soot,’ Chris informed him, recalling the information on the GFU report, ‘and some kind of alcohol.’
‘Yeah, that’s what gives it that lovely warm color – the wings almost seem to glow through the skin, don’t they?’
‘How does someone learn to do that?’ Chris asked him. ‘Or go about making his own ink?’
‘Could have apprenticed at a tattoo parlour for a while, but just as likely to have learned it in the navy, or as a merchant sailor, maybe. As for the ink, well, that’s easy enough; you can buy it at any stationer. As long as it’s sterile, it’s as good as any other.’
‘Have you ever seen this particular work or design before?’
Rasher shook his head. ‘No, definitely not. I’d recognize it if I had – it’s very distinctive, not to mention he’s a lefty, like myself, and in this game, we’re like hen’s teeth.’ He took his glasses off and slipped them back into his pocket. ‘Sorry I can’t tell you more.’
Chris looked at the photo for a moment. ‘One more question.’
‘Fire away.’
‘Any idea why someone would get a tattoo like that?’ He paused. ‘Especially a woman. It’s so big…’
Rasher slurped as he finished his drink, setting the bottle down. ‘I get what you’re saying. Nowadays getting a tattoo is just a fashion, but it used to mean something.’ He flexed his swollen knuckles. ‘They originated as a way of signifying your tribe, your clan. Around these parts there are only two reasons to get an elaborate tattoo – other than those crappy Oriental things that the kids go for. I mean a proper, symbolic, tattoo.’
‘Like what?’ Kennedy asked.
‘Well, one is a celebration – the birth of a child, getting married, winning a competition, stuff like that.’
‘And the other?’
‘To show you belong, that you’re part of something.’ The big man tapped a stubby finger at the photos still lying on the table. ‘Those tattoos, those wings? A tattoo like that is all about being a part of something.’
Chapter 13
ANGEL CULT IN WICKLOW HILLS
Gardai are currently investigating a bizarre case involving redheaded tattooed young women. The so-far unidentified women were each found with mysterious angel wings tattooed on their backs.
The discovery of a recent hit-and-run victim found with such a tattoo has been linked to another unsolved death of nine years. In both cases the dead woman had the same design tattooed onto her back.
Authorities are now trying to figure out the girls’ identities and are working on the theory that they may both have been part of a cult which brands its members, and is potentially located in the Wicklow/Dublin mountains close to where the bodies were found.
Anyone who recognizes the angel-wing tattoo (pictured above) should contact the newspaper directly at this email address …
[1 line break]
Reilly felt herself slump upon reading the article. Whenever the press got involved in a case like this it added complications and caused untold headaches. Not only did they have to spend time answering questions and run the gauntlet of photographers when they were out in the field but, there was the added pressure from Chief
The hand that reached out for the photographs was huge, with big swollen knuckles, and tattoos snaked down his arms to appear at his wrists when his sleeves slid up. He said nothing, simply studied them, one after the other, back and forth. Finally he set them down, then sipped at an open bottle of Lucozade that sat on the table in front of them He peered over the top of his glasses at Chris and Kennedy.
‘Amateur,’ he said eventually. ‘But a bloody good one.’
The detectives leaned forward, waiting for him to continue.
‘What type of ink did he use?’
‘Pig’s blood and soot,’ Chris informed him, recalling the information on the GFU report, ‘and some kind of alcohol.’
‘Yeah, that’s what gives it that lovely warm color – the wings almost seem to glow through the skin, don’t they?’
‘How does someone learn to do that?’ Chris asked him. ‘Or go about making his own ink?’
‘Could have apprenticed at a tattoo parlour for a while, but just as likely to have learned it in the navy, or as a merchant sailor, maybe. As for the ink, well, that’s easy enough; you can buy it at any stationer. As long as it’s sterile, it’s as good as any other.’
‘Have you ever seen this particular work or design before?’
Rasher shook his head. ‘No, definitely not. I’d recognize it if I had – it’s very distinctive, not to mention he’s a lefty, like myself, and in this game, we’re like hen’s teeth.’ He took his glasses off and slipped them back into his pocket. ‘Sorry I can’t tell you more.’
Chris looked at the photo for a moment. ‘One more question.’
‘Fire away.’
‘Any idea why someone would get a tattoo like that?’ He paused. ‘Especially a woman. It’s so big…’
Rasher slurped as he finished his drink, setting the bottle down. ‘I get what you’re saying. Nowadays getting a tattoo is just a fashion, but it used to mean something.’ He flexed his swollen knuckles. ‘They originated as a way of signifying your tribe, your clan. Around these parts there are only two reasons to get an elaborate tattoo – other than those crappy Oriental things that the kids go for. I mean a proper, symbolic, tattoo.’
‘Like what?’ Kennedy asked.
‘Well, one is a celebration – the birth of a child, getting married, winning a competition, stuff like that.’
‘And the other?’
‘To show you belong, that you’re part of something.’ The big man tapped a stubby finger at the photos still lying on the table. ‘Those tattoos, those wings? A tattoo like that is all about being a part of something.’
Chapter 13
ANGEL CULT IN WICKLOW HILLS
Gardai are currently investigating a bizarre case involving redheaded tattooed young women. The so-far unidentified women were each found with mysterious angel wings tattooed on their backs.
The discovery of a recent hit-and-run victim found with such a tattoo has been linked to another unsolved death of nine years. In both cases the dead woman had the same design tattooed onto her back.
Authorities are now trying to figure out the girls’ identities and are working on the theory that they may both have been part of a cult which brands its members, and is potentially located in the Wicklow/Dublin mountains close to where the bodies were found.
Anyone who recognizes the angel-wing tattoo (pictured above) should contact the newspaper directly at this email address …
[1 line break]
Reilly felt herself slump upon reading the article. Whenever the press got involved in a case like this it added complications and caused untold headaches. Not only did they have to spend time answering questions and run the gauntlet of photographers when they were out in the field but, there was the added pressure from Chief
Similar Books
