‘That’s what we do as policemen, Joseph. We can’t put the world to rights, much as we’d want to. We learn that, even if we’re good at what we do, we can solve only one small problem at a time. That’s why policemen don’t get into the history books but soldiers do. Maybe that’s unfair. But if you can bring the guilty person to account for the violence you have described in this case it will be work well done.’

They finished their goulash, drained the last of the Hofbraü, and made their way to the custody cells in the basement of the Kriminalpolizei. Pfaus collected foolscap paper, inkwell and pen as they passed his office on the ground floor.

Carmody was finishing his own midday meal, seated at the deal table in his cell. Swallow noted that he was dining on the same fare that he had just consumed in the canteen upstairs, including a tankard of beer. Not bad, he thought.

Pfaus smiled coldly at the prisoner.

‘I hope you enjoyed your refreshments, Mr Carmody. Because when you are transferred to the state prison shortly you will find that the standard of the food is very different. You are in police custody here with all the privileges and comforts it offers. Prison is another story.’

Carmody glanced nervously at Swallow.

‘I gave you the information you needed, Mr Swallow, didn’t I? You told me I’d not be stoppin’ here. We had a deal, hadn’t we?’

‘Not exactly,’ Swallow said. ‘I didn’t promise you anything. I want you to repeat what you told me in a formal statement. I’m going to write it down and you’re going to sign it, and Kapitän Pfaus here is going to witness it. Then if it’s satisfactory and complete, and if it’s helpful, I’ll see about you going back to Dublin with me.’

‘An’ I’ll be a free man . . . if I do that?’

‘No. You’ll be charged with theft of money from the New Vienna restaurant and lodged in Mountjoy on remand. You’ll give your evidence in court in Stefan Werner’s trial for the murder of Alice Flannery. When that’s over, you’ll be released. You’ll do six months, a year at most.’

Carmody pushed the tankard away and stared at the ground.

‘Can I trust you, Mr Swallow?’

‘You haven’t much choice, Carmody,’ Pfaus said sharply. ‘You’re here in comfort because Inspector Swallow asked me not to have you taken off to the state prison. So either you co-operate with him as he wishes, or you’re on your way to a penal institution and for a long time. I don’t give a damn where you go as long as you’re out of our cells here.’