‘I don’t have to take this,’ he said, spitting onto the ground, the saliva thick and bloody. He prodded with his tongue, found a tooth in his upper jaw loosened a little, shifting under pressure.

‘That was just to put some manners into you, son,’ the man said, standing to the side of the room now. He reached down into the seats of one of the booths there and produced a length of wood tapered at one end. A baseball bat. Even in the dim light, Tony could see the glints where nails had been hammered right through the wood, their points piercing through the opposite side.

‘So, you and Karen,’ Mullan began. ‘What’s the situation?’

‘We were dating.’

‘Dating?

Tony nodded, tried to stand, righted the chair on which he had been sitting and sat once more.

‘Dating, going for dinner? Dating, fucking? Which?’

‘I don’t–’ Tony began, but the man stood, the bat in his hand.

‘Answer the question.’

‘Both,’ Tony said.

‘Dinner and fucking?’

He nodded, trying to suppress his blush.

‘So why not anymore?’

‘We had a fight,’ Tony said.

‘About what?’

‘Private stuff.’

‘Nothing’s private. What stuff?’

‘What has this got to do with the cop?’ Tony said, his voice more pleading than he’d intended.

The air filled with the swish as the man swung at him. Tony tried to shift, jumping to his feet and moving back, tripping over the seat. In so doing, the bat connected with his calf, at first a dull thud which then gave way, as the numbness passed, to the piercing pain of the puncture wounds from the nails.

‘Jesus,’ he yelped, putting his hand to his leg, feeling the frayed edges of the holes in his jeans, already dampening with blood.

‘Tony, we’re trying to be civil here,’ Mullan said. ‘We need to find out what happened at the weekend and that means knowing what happened before that, too, with everyone involved. No one wants to hurt you, if you’ll just tell us the truth.’

Tony tried not to cry, tried to stymie the tears that were burning in his eyes. ‘I don’t… we broke up. We’re not talking.’

Mullan nodded in a manner that made Tony think that he’d already known this, that Tony was simply confirming something rather than offering them anything new.

‘I was meant to meet her at a party last Friday. It was the night I spoke to Hugh about the kid. By the time I got there, she was in the bedroom with some other fella.’

‘And you’ve not spoken since?’

‘She tried to explain but I’d no interest in listening. We’re not speaking anymore.’

‘Do you trust her?’ the man with the bat said, his tone changed slightly, less antagonistic.

‘What?’

‘Do you trust her?’ he repeated, more slowly, his voice raised, perhaps suspecting Tony’s hearing had been damaging by the blow he’d dealt him.