Maisie went to the front door and opened it. The clouds had lifted, revealing a white and silver sky. She sat on the step and studied the phone. Then she pulled the card with Fred’s number from the pocket of her trousers and reviewed it. He had done something terrible, inconceivable. He did it for me and for my kids. I got to be free of Danny. I have a life. My kids are happy – at least, they were … When I get you home, Jeremy Bean, I’m going to kill you. Fred had always been kind to her. He had protected her from Danny, and even Valerie had asked for him to be there when she met Danny. Maisie needed him on this day of all days … but even though he had done what he did for her, he had still done it.

She dialled his number. He picked up after two rings.

‘Detective Brennan here?’

‘It’s Maisie.’

‘Mai.’ He sounded relieved.

‘Rave took money out in Blessington last night.’

‘I know – Linda called. It’s positive news.’

‘There’s a press conference on later. I need to prepare for it.’

‘Would you like me to ask one of the other lads to come?’

‘Valerie was hoping you’d be there.’

‘Valerie?’

‘She’s seeing her father today. He’s coming.’

‘He’s not making the appeal – Jeremy will run a mile if he sees him.’

‘No, he’ll just be there in the background.’

‘OK.’

‘So will you come back, just for today?’

‘Just for today?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I’m already here, Mai.’

She looked up to see him stepping out of his car halfway down the street.

She was gazing at her feet when he sat beside her. ‘You were outside the whole time?’

‘No. I had one of the lads watch the house last night. I took over at seven. Not taking any chances with Danny Fox back.’

‘He’s no threat to us any more, Fred.’

‘I’m no threat either, Mai, I promise ya that.’

‘I believe you, I do. I just can’t get me head around—’ At that point she looked up and saw Fred’s clean-shaven face. ‘Jesus.’ Her hands automatically covered her mouth. ‘You’re so white.’

‘That’s the look I was going for.’ Without the whiskers concealing it, he had a wide, brilliant smile.

‘You look ten years younger.’

‘Well, I feel a hundred years old.’ His eyes were sad.

‘You shaved because of what I said.’

‘“Never trust a man with a beard”? I shaved all right, but not because of some stupid saying.’

‘It’s not stupid.’

‘Right. Well, not because of that.’

‘What, then?’