‘Men, a lot of you are tired, like myself, after a long night. You’ve heard what the commissioner has said. I’d like to stress that this job is going to be based on the fullest co-operation between uniformed and detective branches. We need every man in uniform we can get on the streets at night until we crack this case. And we need every detective working flat out, following every clue we have. As to those clues, we have a few. Constable C35 Pat Cummins encountered a tall, well-built man hurriedly leaving Chapel Court at around the time we believe that Ellen Byrne was beaten to death. He endeavoured to restrain him but was unable to keep up with him in the fog. We don’t know if we’re dealing here with one assailant or with a number, or if there’s any connection between the three attacks on women in the past week. But for what it’s worth, Debbie Dunne also describes her attacker as a big man. Now I know that’s not very precise, but it does narrow the field somewhat.

‘So,’ he gestured to a file on the rostrum, ‘we’ve got a list of every known violent offender against women in the city, compiled during the week by G-Division. We’re going to take each and every one of these characters and we’re going to bring them in for questioning as to their whereabouts on the three dates and times of the attacks. We’ll allocate the jobs as soon as this conference is ended. Now, are there any questions?’

A young, red-haired constable, his back to the parade room wall, raised a hand.

‘Sir, if you please. 22C, Constable Edwards, Store Street. The word is that Cummins says there was somethin’ very unusual about the man he encountered. Is that for public knowledge?’

Mallon shook his head.

‘No. I know what you’re talking about, but for the moment we’re keeping that confidential. I don’t want it going to the press.’

He glared across the room.

‘And that goes for everyone here. Whatever you may have heard about whatever Constable Cummins saw, or thought he saw, it’s not to pass your lips. If it appears in any newspaper, believe me, I know every editor and reporter in this city and I’ll find out who’s been talking. He’ll be out on his ear before nightfall, I promise you.’

One of Mallon’s clerks started to allocate the jobs from the file of frequent offenders. Mallon nodded to Swallow.

‘We’ll use your room. Bring Mossop, Feore and Doolan.’

‘What’s all that about, chief?’ Swallow asked when they had climbed the stairway to the first-floor quiet of the crime inspector’s office.

Mallon threw himself wearily into a chair.