If Fiona Holland had actually been taken, the hope of finding her alive was fading. She was missing a full two weeks now. What condition would she be in? Was her jailer feeding her? Abusing her?

He was tormented by those questions, but Tom knew he wouldn’t let fear overwhelm him. It would impede his ability to do his job. Nevertheless, it was there, tapping away at the edge of his thoughts. Keeping him sharp.

He deposited his empty water bottle and Mars bar wrapper in the bin and hurried back towards headquarters. He passed families queuing for Dublin Zoo, also based in the Phoenix Park, the kids yelling excitedly and parents chatting animatedly. They were a world removed from his professional life and he was glad of it.

‘I put Healy in your office,’ Ray said, meeting him in reception. ‘So he wouldn’t suspect anything.’

‘Good stuff. Where’s Carney?’

‘Custody suite.’

‘Okay. Let’s throw some mud at Sergeant Healy and see what sticks.’

The Meath sergeant stood when the two men entered the office. He was in full uniform again and greeted Tom apologetically.

‘Inspector, how’s it going? I’ve been going over and over what happened with Vincent yesterday. I can’t apologise enough. Do you need me to talk to him, is that why you asked me to come up? I’ve barely slept thinking about it all. I mean, if he’s capable of shooting at you, he’s already capable of more than I imagined. Is he the killer, do you think?’

Tom took his seat.

‘I do want to have a chat with you about Carney,’ he said. ‘We’ve already established that you know him well enough. He also mentioned yesterday that you drop stuff out to the house for him. Magazines, that kind of thing. Do you often spend time with him?’

Healy’s cheeks flushed.

‘I’m just keeping an eye on him. I give him the odd dirty mag – it keeps him occupied at the house, stops him wandering into the village looking for the real thing.’

‘That’s fairly innovative of you,’ Tom said, his eyebrows raised.

‘Yeah, well.’

The sergeant shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

‘Why do you feel so sorry for Vincent?’ Tom persisted. ‘He’s a registered sex offender.’

‘He’s also a person,’ Healy snapped.

Tom leaned back, surprised.

The sergeant caught himself. He shrugged, contrite.

‘I apologise,’ he said. ‘Maybe I should explain.’

‘I think you should,’ Ray barked.

Healy flashed him a defiant glare.