‘There’s a few pressmen outside waiting for you, Inspector,’ the G-man on duty told him, nodding to the swing doors that led to the lobby and the street. ‘They want to know about that German fella in the cells.’

Swallow cursed silently. He was not surprised that word of Werner’s arrest on the tram in South Great George’s Street had reached the newspaper offices, or that the reporters had been able to identify the man dramatically taken away at gunpoint from the scene. Other business people on the busy street would have identified their restaurateur neighbour being taken in handcuffs down the street to the Castle by Swallow and Vizzard. But he had always made a point of co-operating with the gentlemen of the press. It was a policy that generally worked well for him. One never knew when one might need their support or co-operation.

There were three of them: Dunlop from The Irish Times, Sheehan from The Freeman’s Journal and Hamilton, a freelance who serviced the needs of a number of London publications. They stood as one from the wooden bench on which they had been waiting when Swallow came out.

‘Has Werner been charged, Joe?’

‘Did he confess?’

‘Can you tell us why he did it?’

‘Don’t get too far ahead of yourselves,’ he told them. ‘You know there’s a man in custody. And yes, it’s to do with the murder of Alice Flannery. But he hasn’t been charged.’

‘But he’s the right man, Inspector, isn’t he?’ It was Dunlop from The Irish Times. ‘It’s the German. Isn’t that why you went to Berlin?’

Some friendly G-man had marked Dunlop’s cards about his travels. Swallow nodded. He had long since learned that it was foolish to lie to the press, but it was not always necessary to tell them all of the truth.

‘Draw your own conclusions. You seem to know a fair bit.’

The pressmen scribbled hurriedly in their notebooks.

‘You’re sure you’ve got the right man, Joe?’ Sheehan asked. ‘Can we say that?’

‘Say what you think,’ Swallow answered. ‘Just don’t put words in my mouth.’

Questioning Stefan Werner had been more difficult than he had anticipated. He steadfastly denied that he had any criminal record in Germany or anywhere else. He agreed, though, that he had clashed with Alice Flannery when she worked at the New Vienna restaurant, and described her as troublesome and disruptive. And he confirmed that she had injured herself lifting a heavy pot of boiling soup in the kitchen. He believed it was her own fault. She wanted to work with the chef in order to learn from him. The chef had tolerated her intrusion into his work area, but she should not have attempted to lift the heavy vessel.