I stopped dead. “Where were they going?” It occurred to me that a search of the dead man’s belongings was one of the first things Molloy would have organized if he’d had the manpower, if he hadn’t been battling a flood at the same time.

“Cape Town. South Africa.” Mary gave me a wry look. “Today. They were one-way tickets.”

“You’re kidding. So it wasn’t a holiday.”

She shook her head. “Amanda came in and found me looking at them. I hadn’t been snooping, I swear. They were under some coats that I was hanging up. But she completely lost it with me. Said she knew about me and Bob, that I was his slut. That I shouldn’t think I was the only slut he’d had. Called me all sorts of names.”

“Oh Mary.” So Bob was planning on doing a runner, I thought. The “meetings” that Derek had referred to in Derry on Wednesday were about planning his getaway. Before the guillotine fell.

“How did she know about you and Bob? It wasn’t Molloy, was it?” Molloy had said he’d be discreet, but it may not have been that simple.

“I think it must have been Derek.” She looked down. “I knew him when Bob and I were together years ago, when they were both in Trinity.” She gave a half-smile. “The twins. Long before he met Amanda.” She took a deep breath. “Bob must have told him we were still in touch. I shouldn’t be surprised. Those two told each other everything.”

Which might explain why Amanda and Derek hadn’t been speaking the night before, I thought. But why would Derek have told her? What possible motive would he have had now, when she was grieving?

But before I could ask anything else, Mary pushed a tear out of her eye, straightened her back and pulled herself together. “I have to go. I have to get back to make lunch.” She squeezed my hand. “Thank you for the chat.” And she walked back to the till, elegant and poised.

On my way back to the car I checked something on my phone, and it was exactly as I suspected. Ireland had no extradition warrant with South Africa.

Phyllis was waiting for me with Fred at her heels and the dog sat happily in the back, head peering between the two seats, tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth, as I drove along the Ballyliffin road.

“I ran into Mary in the shop,” I said as I passed the turn-off for the mountain road. There was a barrier at the junction with a sign saying Road closed due to Flooding. “She was really upset.”

Phyllis put her hand to her throat and looked across at me. “Oh, poor Mary. I keep meaning to call up to her. Although it’s very awkward with those people still staying with her.”