Duggan stood and stretched, as if twisting a crick out his neck. He padded past Tony, winking once. ‘See you again, wee man. Keep her lit.’

The door slammed behind them, both officers ignoring Tony’s questions about the whereabouts and well-being of his father.

Around 6am, one of the two men who had taken Duggan away arrived back at the cell with a cup of weak tea in a polystyrene cup which he handed to Tony.

‘Wasn’t sure if you took milk or sugar, so there’s a bit of both,’ he said. He was young, maybe only a year or two older than Tony himself. His hair was sandy, his moustache neatly trimmed. His eyes were bloodshot, shadowed with bags which suggested he’d had as little sleep as Tony. He moved across and sat on the bench on which Duggan had been lying.

‘Where’s my father?’

‘He’s fine,’ the man said. ‘I’ve a few questions and then you’ll be done.’

Tony straightened, sceptical. He put the tea to one side.

‘Where were you last night?’

‘At home,’ Tony said. ‘I buried my fucking brother yesterday, where would I be?’

The officer raised his hand. ‘Take it easy, big lad,’ he said. ‘I’m only asking. Was your father at home?’

Tony nodded.

‘What were youse doing?’

Tony tried to remember. He wondered if they had already questioned his father and were looking for him to corroborate his father’s statement.

‘Watching TV,’ Tony said.

‘What was on?’

‘I don’t know. I wasn’t paying any attention to it. The news at some stage, ’cause we heard about the cop being shot.’ He’d used the term defiantly, stopping himself from self-correcting to ‘policeman’.

The policeman nodded. It took a moment for Tony to realise he wasn’t even writing anything down.

‘You were talking to Sean Mullan at your brother’s funeral, is that right?’

Tony nodded, quizzically. ‘I didn’t even know who he was till after, when my dad told me.’

‘Your dad knows Mullan?’

‘He knows of him,’ Tony said, careful now. ‘That’s not the same thing.’

‘And what did Mullan say to you?’

Tony studied the man’s face. He returned the gaze without guile. Did they already know? Had they been listening in at the funeral? If he said nothing, would they have him because they’d know he’d lied?

‘He expressed his condolences over the death of Danny. That’s all I remember.’

The officer nodded, smiling mildly as if this was what he’d been expecting to hear. ‘That’s fine. I’m sorry for your loss, too. It was a dreadful thing to happen. We’ll let you get home.’

He stood as Tony watched him open-mouthed. ‘What?’

‘Someone will bring you in some clothes. Your father will be ready in a few minutes. Thanks for your help.’

A weak winter dawn was breaking when Tony and his father stepped out of the station. Several others who had been lifted the previous evening spilled out, bleary eyed into the grey light of morning. But not Hugh Duggan.