‘I’ve heard of them. They’re more Catholic than the pope.’

‘And they like growing vegetables, singing, dancing and making jam and, get this, she’s called Marianne now. The local lads recognized her photo and paid her a visit. I’m sorry to say that Marianne hasn’t seen her son since she left for the commune and she doesn’t seem in the slightest bit concerned for his safety.’

‘Christ.’

‘Some people shouldn’t be allowed have kids.’

‘Anything else?’

‘Not before I left the station, but Tom was still workin’ when I left.’

‘Thanks … Just do me a favour and keep me up to date – I don’t want Tom thinking I’m stepping on his toes.’

At that moment he spotted Danny Fox walking towards him. He nearly dropped the phone.

‘Will do. Good night, Fred.’

Danny was heavier than he had been the last time they were together. He walked with a pronounced limp and Fred wasn’t sure if it was real or just exaggerated for his benefit. He still wore that stupid half-arsed moustache but it was grey, as was his once dark hair. He was still handsome but his weather-beaten face and nicotine-stained teeth and hands had aged him prematurely. He could have passed for fifty.

As Danny approached, Fred widened his stance, ready to do battle.

‘Well, it all makes sense now. Livin’ here long, are ya?’

‘I don’t live here.’

Danny eyed him. ‘Can I speak to my wife or are you gonna guard the door all night?’

‘She’s not your wife.’

‘Yeah, Inspector Clouseau, she fuckin’ is and she will be for as long as she’s breathin’.’

He had a point: divorce wasn’t legal – Maisie was stuck with him even if it was in name only. Fred took a step closer to him. He towered over Danny, who stumbled back. ‘You want to dance with me again, Danny?’ Fred said.

‘Didn’t think ya were up for a twirl without your trusty bat.’ He was trying to play the hard man but he was nervous. He would have been insane not to be.

‘Oh, I am,’ Fred said. ‘Any time, any place. How’s that leg of yours?’

‘I could take your job any time I want,’ Danny said. ‘I could tell them what you did.’

‘What I did?’ Fred laughed, but it wasn’t funny. You could take more than my job. I’d do time for what I did to you. ‘That’s mad. Why would I do anything to you?’

‘That’s what I couldn’t work out till just now.’

Fred’s heart was racing, but he was careful to maintain his cool. ‘I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t come back to Dublin ever.’