‘Not in this case,’ Father Ryan said firmly. ‘There are several mitigating circumstances. I intend raising the matter with the Bishop personally. I may say with some certainty that I foresee little difficulty.’

Miller smiled. ‘I’m glad.’

‘Forgive me for saying so, but you appear to have some personal interest here? May I ask why?’

‘I pulled her out of the river myself,’ Miller told him. ‘Something I’m not likely to forget in a hurry. I know one thing – I’d like to get my hands on whoever was responsible.’

Father Ryan sighed. ‘It’s a strange thing, but in spite of the fact that most people believe priests to be somehow cut off from the real world, I come face to face with more human wickedness in a week than the average man does in a lifetime.’ He smiled gently. ‘And I still believe that at heart, most human beings are good.’

‘I wish I could agree, Father,’ Miller said sombrely. ‘I wish I could agree.’ He turned and walked away quickly to where Jack Brady waited at the gate.

Mrs Kilroy was a large, unlovely widow with flaming red hair that had come straight out of a bottle and a thin mouth enlarged by orange lipstick into an obscene gash.

‘I keep a respectable place here, I’ve never had any trouble before,’ she said as she led the way upstairs.

‘No trouble, Mrs Kilroy,’ Brady said persuasively. ‘We just want to see the room, that’s all, and ask a few questions.’

The landing was long and dark, its polished lino covered by a thin strip of worn carpeting. The door at the far end was locked. She produced a bunch of keys, opened it and led the way in.

The room was surprisingly large and furnished in Victorian mahogany. The curtains at the only window were partially closed, the traffic sounds outside muted and unreal as if from another world and a thin bar of sunlight fell across the floor adding a new richness to the faded colours of the old Indian carpet.

It was the neatness that was so surprising and the cleanliness. The bed had been stripped, the blankets folded into squares and stacked at one end of the mattress and the top of the dressing table had quite obviously been dusted. Miller opened one or two of the empty drawers, closed them again and turned.

‘And this is exactly how you found the room this morning?’

Mrs Kilroy nodded. ‘She came and knocked on my door last night at about ten o’clock.’

‘Had she been out?’

‘I wouldn’t know. She told me she’d be moving today.’

‘Did she say why?’

Mrs Kilroy shook her head. ‘I didn’t ask. I was more interested in getting a week’s rent in lieu of notice, which was the agreement.’

‘And she paid?’