‘I’m sure you don’t expect me to answer that?’

‘Are you talking about SOCA?’ asked Cooper. ‘Serious and Organized Crime? Did they recruit you as one of their under-cover agents?’

‘Agents? I think they’re called covert human intelligence sources these days, Ben.’

‘Angie, you can’t just –’

But she’d already turned away and was walking into the darkness along the river bank.

‘Give it to Diane, if you want,’ she called. ‘Tell her it’s my farewell gift.’

When he eventually reached the corner of the market square where Liz was waiting, Cooper realized she’d been standing close enough to have a view of the river from the Eyre Street bridge.

‘Who was that woman I saw you with?’ she asked straight away.

Cooper flinched at the unfamiliar coolness in her voice. It was the sort of tone that might be used on a suspect in the interview room, when you wanted to make it clear that you thought they were guilty and you were expecting them to lie. He wondered where Liz had learned that tone. Perhaps it just came naturally. Perhaps it came naturally to all women.

‘Were you spying on me?’ he said, trying for a smile.

‘You’re avoiding the question.’

Cooper laughed, but she wasn’t responding.

‘Look, if you really want to know – it was Diane’s sister.’

‘Oh, you mean –?’

‘Angie, yes.’

‘I’ve never seen her before.’

‘Well, Diane doesn’t exactly bring her into work on Casual Friday,’ said Cooper.

‘OK, OK. I can see you’re defensive about it.’

‘What?’

Liz began to walk away. Stung by her unfairness, Cooper waited a moment, to make his point, before he followed her.

Garda Lenaghan insisted on celebrating that evening. Somehow, they ended up drinking Irish whiskey together in a bar in Coolock that stayed open until the early hours of the morning. Fry didn’t normally drink spirits, and by the end of the night the whiskey was starting to have a peculiar effect on her.

‘Tony, I need to get back to my B&B,’ she said finally. ‘I’m due to fly home tomorrow, you know.’

Lenaghan’s face was swimming in front of her, but Fry was sure he was smiling. He wasn’t as bad as she’d thought at first. He was a city man, not like the yokels back in Derbyshire.

‘I’ll call for a taxi,’ he said.

In the early hours of the morning, Cooper found himself watching a film on TV, too tired to go to bed, and with too many thoughts buzzing around in his head.