‘Well, actually my own church has the same sort of foundations,’ Mossop remarked conversationally.

‘Oh,’ Feehan was clearly embarrassed. ‘I assumed . . .’

‘Yes,’ Swallow said, quietly relishing the advantage, ‘Detective Sergeant Mossop is a member of the Church of Ireland. Now, if we could get back to my questions. I understand that Alice worked here in the church as a cleaner?’

Feehan seemed relieved to pick up Swallow’s questioning as a means of getting away from his faux pas. ‘Oh, yes. Occasionally, yes. It was more as an assistant to her mother, who has been one of our regular cleaners for quite a few years. She was a good worker and never had to be told anything more than once.’

‘So you would have known her quite well?’

‘No. I could only say I knew her slightly. As the parish priest . . . as a monsignor . . . one would have little to do with that aspect of parish business. We would have the occasional short conversation if we met in the church. She was very respectful. She would have dealt with the sacristan for practical matters, pay, cleaning materials and so on.’

‘How would you describe her, sir?’ Mossop asked.

Swallow saw a flicker of irritation in the priest’s eyes. He knew why. ‘I’ve already explained that Detective Sergeant Mossop is not of the Catholic faith, Monsignor,’ he interjected. ‘He’s not accustomed to our usages of ecclesiastical titles.’

Mossop nodded apologetically. ‘It’s true, sir. I’m sorry.’

‘As far as I know she was a very ordinary girl,’ Feehan said. ‘Respectful, as I say. Intelligent, I’m told. Hard-working. After the father died she took on all the work she could to help feed the family. I believe she also worked in a restaurant somewhere in town. I believe she wanted to advance in that area of work.’

‘She was anxious to improve her lot?’ Swallow put the question.

‘Yes, I would say so. From our occasional conversations I gathered that she was ambitious. She liked to read, she told me once. She’d sometimes take the newspapers home when the priests had read them and finished with them.’

‘Were there . . . any young men in her life?’ Mossop asked.

‘If you’re asking me was she keeping company, I cannot answer that, Mr Mossop. Our Church, whatever about yours, takes a very strict view on such matters. If she was, it could in certain circumstances have been an occasion of sin and she would have been obliged to reveal it in confession. Since I was her confessor, I cannot break the seal of confession, as you’ll understand, I’m sure.’

‘You were her confessor?’ Swallow said. ‘Surely then you must know a lot about her circumstances that could help us, without breaking any seal. It can hardly apply once a person is deceased, I assume.’