‘What angers me more than anything else, Detective Chief Superintendent, is the absolute transparency of what has happened here. You have complete records and logs up to three years ago. After that, they simply disappear. You haven’t even made an effort to pretend that this is a lack of organisation. You’ve simply taken away the ones that you’ve been ordered by your authorities to provide.’

‘I can only tell you I don’t know where they are,’ Mallon replied sharply.

Kelly nodded.

‘Words very carefully chosen, Mr Mallon. And indeed, you may not know where they are.’

He turned to stare at Swallow.

‘But somebody here does. And I suspect I wouldn’t have to search very far to find out who that is. I’m not going to let it end at this. There are other places we have yet to look. And getting warrants won’t be a problem, I can assure you.’

Swallow returned his stare and held it. Mallon gestured to the door, smiling coldly.

‘And I wish you a very merry Christmas too, Major Kelly.’

Wednesday December 26th, 1888

Chapter 25

It was ‘Duck’ Boyle, a week later, at Christmas, who got the first significant lead in the murder of the prostitute Helena Moyles, alias Ellen Byrne, alias Nellie Sweet, at Chapel Court. It was ironic, Swallow reflected when the information came through, that the corpulent Boyle, wholly unaccustomed to any exertion in the discharge of his duties, should from time to time come up with information that could make the difference between solving a crime and failure. But in reality, he had to acknowledge to himself that Boyle had a talent for being in the right place with the wrong type of people. That was what a policeman had to do sometimes. Usually it was no hardship for ‘Duck’ Boyle because it involved drink or food for which somebody else was paying. And occasionally it yielded dividends.

Christmas had brought a welcome respite from the bitterness of the winter. Christmas Eve saw temperatures rise to a balmy thirty degrees Fahrenheit, with thin sunshine filling the streets and courts across the city centre. It dropped, naturally, in the afternoon, once the sun went down and darkness had fallen. But Christmas morning was again pleasantly mild. Thousands of people took to the city parks to stroll in the unseasonal sunshine. Crocuses and snowdrops had started appear in St Stephen’s Green in the heart of the city. A report from the Zoological Gardens in the Phoenix Park had it that hibernating animals had started to stir, sensing the spring-like warmth.