40

How hard could it be to call and update me on what was happening? It was over twenty-four hours since I had told Lenihan that Gill owned the house next door, and emailed him my theory about Esther Gill’s car. I was doing Lenihan’s job for him. The least he could do was keep me informed. I hoped that he was following up on the leads, but who knew?

I spent the morning, after Davy had left for work, intermittently reviewing the file I had on Deirdre’s case. I didn’t get far. There was no sign yet of the DNA results or the medical records. The longer they took to arrive, the more pessimistic I became. The drinks coaster was probably hopelessly cross-contaminated and the medical records were probably silent on anything that might identify the rapist, be that Joey O’Connor or Jeremy Gill. My case was hopelessly stalled, and it was impossible for me to concentrate while I was waiting for news on the murder investigation.

The doorbell rang at 10.15. I jumped.

‘Morning, Finn, is it?’ the voice on the intercom said.

‘Who’s this?’

‘Andy O’Mahony, electrician, your fella sent me up to fit the security light on the gate, like.’

I buzzed him in. I had mentioned to Davy that I agreed with him now that I needed a security light. Had there been one, Gill wouldn’t have been able to conceal himself unseen, where I assumed he had been, in the recess to the left of the gate, while I took out the bins. But I hadn’t asked Davy to organise it for me, and part of me was annoyed that he had; the part that didn’t like people taking care of me, the same part that liked being in control of all things at all times. But another part of me had wanted Davy to be with me last night, had asked him to stay.

So I scowled at Andy O’Mahony, but I let him do the job. I even brought him down a mug of tea with the three spoons of sugar he had specified.

‘He’s not my fella, by the way,’ I said.

‘Who?’

‘Davy Keenan.’

‘Oh right,’ Andy said. ‘What is he so?’

‘I’m not sure any more.’

‘That sounds interesting.’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘That’s one way of putting it.’

After Andy left, I remained in the garden. I took a brush from the shed and swept the paths clear of snipped electrical cable and leaves. For a time, I leant against the stone wall and remembered the previous Tuesday night, when Davy I had stood in this place in the rain and, later, slept together for the first time.