I was put straight through to the head teacher. Sometimes ‘solicitor’ has a magical effect. Schools are universally obsessed by insurance costs and claims and, once he’d heard that I wasn’t planning on suing him and that his premium was safe, the principal, Eoghan MacGiolla, agreed to see me that very afternoon. He also said that he would ask Miss Sheehan and Mr O’Donnell to make themselves available. I told MacGiolla that I would be at the school by 3 p.m. at the latest.

As I crossed City Hall Bridge on to the South Mall, I rang Tina and arranged to meet her for lunch. Then I turned right into Marlboro Street and bought the cash box.

Next, I collected the photographs from Camera World. The enlargement all but confirmed that the name badge was the same as the one I’d found at the Carney house.

Now that I had copies of the photographs, I could return the originals to the Film Festival, somehow, preferably without attracting attention. Or was it best to walk in brazenly and say that I’d borrowed them as if it was no big deal? I’d decide later.

I looked again at Daniel O’Brien, the education officer, in the enlarged picture. Jessica had said that he was a nice man. He looked it. He had a round face, a big smile, ill-advised Harry Potter glasses and a small potbelly, the expansion of which seemed inevitable. He’d be mid-thirties by now, and his hair looked light brown or dark blond, though it was hard to tell from the photo. The fact that I hadn’t been able to find him was niggling me, and I’d talk to Marie Wade when I got a chance, but I wouldn’t spend much time on him.

From the Grand Parade, I turned down Tobin Street, more of a lane than a street, and passed the Triskel Arts Centre. Gulpd Cafe, my destination, was on the left. Opposite was the Hubert Bookbindery on the ground floor of Hatfield House. The building was named for Hurd Hatfield, an American actor who had lived in the County Cork countryside in his latter years. Hatfield, a local celebrity and a regular attender at the Film Festival, though I had never met him, had played the narcissistic deceiver Dorian Gray in the 1945 movie of the book. Which made me think about Jeremy Gill again.

I needed lunch.

Spotting Tina at a table in the corner, I waved. Then, I ordered my usual, a chicken baguette, at the counter and went to join her.

‘So, tell me, what have you got?’ I said.

‘General, or new case?’ Tina asked.

‘New case,’ I said. ‘Unless there’s anything major I need to know about?’