‘In the Irish form only. Ó Brolcháin’s been known to G-Division for at least a year. He was in teacher training with my sister. But these fellows slip from an Irish name to an English one and we lose track of them.’

‘We should be ahead of that game,’ Mallon said testily. ‘The first thing you do when you go back to the office is to put out an instruction that subjects under surveillance or investigation should be recorded under both English and Irish forms.’

‘I’ll do that that, chief,’ Swallow said. ‘And we’ll deal with Bradley. At very least we’ll do him for giving false information and wasting police time.’

Mallon grunted.

‘Put him away if you can. Another bloody liar.’

‘Right, chief, we’ll do our best.’

Mallon frowned.

‘I want to say that I’m sorry about Kelly. It’s shameful.’

‘You had no choice, chief, I know that,’ Swallow said. ‘But it’s bloody hard to think of him out somewhere tonight laughing at us, while my Maria is lying above in the Rotunda.’

Mallon poured himself another shot of Tullamore.

‘No, Joe. I didn’t have a choice. No bloody choice at all. Did you do any Latin at school?’

‘I did.’

‘Then you’ll know the phrase, “salus populi suprema lex est”, I’m sure.’

‘The safety of the people is the supreme law.’

‘Absolutely,’ Mallon said.

There was bitterness in the one-word sentence.

‘The safety of the people, as defined by our lords in Westminster, overrules every other consideration. So Major Nigel Kelly may be a killer and a brute, but as long as he’s doing the dirty work of the powers that be, they’ll stand behind him and give him cover.’

He drank from his tumbler of Tullamore.

‘I’m truly sorry, Joe. For you, for Maria, for your baby. I wish there was a way for me to say that we could nail him.’

‘It’s not your fault, chief,’ Swallow said. ‘I understand the rules of the game at this stage. We’re just the gravel on the road. Small cogs in a big wheel . . . and so on. I know that if you didn’t release Kelly you’d be gone from your job within the hour, and some time-serving arse-lick from England would be in your place.’

Mallon thought silently for a moment.

‘Maybe there’s a case for stripping away all this pretence. Maybe it would be better to have all those bloodless Englishmen in charge rather than the likes of you and me. We’re as Irish as any of the characters we chase and trace, sometimes arrest, sometimes see on their way to jail and sometimes see to the gallows, like the Invincibles.’

‘D’ye think so, chief?’ Swallow asked.