‘For Christ’s sake, Kathleen. I’m human. I couldn’t help having feelings for you, and believe it or not I still do. Can’t you take what happened as a compliment? How was I to know that it wasn’t consensual?’

Katie was breathing hard. ‘You’ll have to forgive me, sir. I have to go down now to question the young woman we’ve arrested as the Lee Pusher. Another investigation successfully closed. Perhaps you’d care to report that to the Commissioner, and the Director of Communications, and the Garda Press Officer, and any other misogynists within earshot.’

30

She met Detective O’Donovan in the reception area, with his phone held to his ear. He sounded as if he were chatting to a woman because he glanced at Katie and said, ‘Gotta go,’ and then blew her a kiss before he rang off.

‘How’re you going on, ma’am?’ he asked. ‘You have kind of an agitated look about you if you don’t mind my saying so.’

‘Agitated? Is that all? Have you not read the Sun this morning?’

‘Well, yes, but only the racing tips, and the horoscopes. You can’t believe any of the rest of it.’

They walked along the corridor to the interview room. Doireann Greaney was waiting for them, along with her duty solicitor, Sionha Barrett, and a female garda. Doireann was sitting slumped behind the table in a floppy grey jumper and a pair of dark blue tracksuit trousers that were at least two sizes too large for her. Her arms were folded and she was staring up at the ceiling as if she were bored beyond measure. She had tied back her hair with elastic bands into a long stringy ponytail.

Sionha Barrett wore a thick heather tweed suit. Her huge pink-rimmed spectacles looked like two goldfish bowls with her eyes swimming around inside them. They kept threatening to drop off the end of her snubby little nose, so that she constantly had to prod them back up.

Katie and Detective O’Donovan sat down. ‘Doireann – I’m Detective Superintendent Kathleen Maguire and this is Detective Patrick O’Donovan. May I ask you how you’re feeling this morning?’

Doireann shrugged but said nothing. Sionha said, ‘I think you should try and answer DS Maguire, Doireann. She’s only concerned for your welfare.’

‘How am I feeling?’ asked Doireann. It was almost a sneer.

‘The doctor said that you’d taken a high dose of lisdexamfetamine and a few gatts too.’

‘So if you know that, how the feck do you think I’m feeling? Like shite warmed up.’

‘Would you care for a cup of tea in your hand?’

‘No. But a Tanora if you have one.’

‘I believe we can find you a Tanora. Are you hungry? We could fetch you a sandwich or some biscuits maybe.’

‘I’m never hungry.’

‘How old are you, Doireann?’