‘I’m going out to direct the search at Blackberry Lane,’ Swallow announced when Mossop had finished. I want Mick Feore with me as book man and Martin Shanahan as assistant. Send to Kevin Street for Sergeant Doolan to join us out there. We’ll do a conference here at four o’clock.’

Mick Feore was an experienced crime detective who had worked with Swallow as far back as the Phoenix Park murders in 1882. Martin Shanahan had been transferred from uniform duties to assist them. They were part of the team assembled by the legendary Inspector John Mallon that brought five members of the ‘Invincibles’ to the gallows after the assassinations of Britain’s two most senior civil servants.

The role of book man was key in any serious crime investigation. He had to be meticulous in recording every scrap of information. He had to cherish every detail. And he had to have the gift of being able to make connections between what could seem to be unrelated facts or events. Mick Feore was the best book man in G-Division after Pat Mossop, Swallow reckoned. Shanahan was without ambition, but worked conscientiously and loyally under direction.

Stephen Doolan was a veteran of twenty years in service, and the best search organiser Swallow knew in the force. He was in A-Division, based at Kevin Street, but what the G-Division detectives at Exchange Court wanted by way of resources they invariably got.

There was noisy talk as the G-men started to disperse. Swallow noticed a middle-aged constable at the door of the room. He recognised Jack Caviston, the Rathmines beat man who had been called by the young soldiers when Alice Flannery had been found. Swallow surmised that he had slipped into the day room while the conference was in progress.

Caviston saluted. ‘Mornin’, sir.’

‘Bad business you had earlier,’ Swallow said. He could see that the man was exhausted. ‘I thought you’d finished your shift.’

‘I did, sir,’ Caviston seemed uneasy. ‘I was on my way home when I remembered somethin’ strange from the scene. In all that was goin’ on I didn’t say it to Sergeant Mossop or Johnny Vizzard.’ He hesitated. ‘So I thought I’d come back in, knowin’ you’d be doin’ the conference.’

‘Go on,’ Swallow said.

‘It mightn’t be anythin’ at all, but it was somethin’ I think the girl said when I got up to the laneway. The two young lads were strikin’ lucifers to give a bit o’ light, so I could see she was in a terrible state, covered in blood. I asked her what her name was, but she didn’t answer. I said “Who done this, love?” Then she started to shake and a couple of words came out.’

‘What did she say?’

‘She said, “I didn’t.” She repeated it. “I didn’t.” That’s what she said, sir.’

Chapter 2