‘I’m sure you will if I say the name Phinean Joyce.’

Katie stared at her. ‘Garrett told you about Phinean Joyce? Why would he have done that?’

‘I suppose because he was proud of how much he helped you. As I understand it, you would never have been promoted to detective superintendent if Phinean Joyce hadn’t been convicted. The beast who was supposed to have raped and murdered the wife of Cork’s incumbent Lord Mayor?’

‘What do you mean by “supposed to”? He did. There was a rake of evidence to convict him.’

‘Oh, really? That’s not what Garrett told me. Garrett told me that you suspected Phinean Joyce only because the council had refused him planning permission for a factory extension. Because of that he’d warned the Lord Mayor that he’d regret it for the rest of his days.’

‘That’s partly true, yes. But what he actually said was that he would personally make sure that the Lord Mayor’s life was hell on earth. He even threatened him in a signed letter.’

‘Well, whatever. But a threat isn’t evidence, is it? And the only witness who was supposed to have seen Phinean Joyce leaving the Lord Mayor’s house on the night of the murder was a well-known local drunk and a fantasist.’

‘There was forensic evidence, too.’

‘Oh, yes. A single footprint in the hallway that matched one of Phinean Joyce’s shoes – even though they were loafers from Schuh and half of the middle-aged men in Cork walk around in loafers from Schuh.’

‘Orla – there was a deep and distinctive cleft in that footprint. It was unique.’

‘Unique enough for you to arrest Phinean Joyce on that evidence alone and charge him with rape and murder. No semen sample, no bruising, no fibres, no fingerprints on the poker that the poor woman was beaten to death with.’

‘The footprint was enough.’

‘Obviously. After only a three-day trial His Honour Mr Justice Garrett Quinn directed the jury to find Phinean Joyce guilty, without letting them know that he and Detective Inspector Kathleen Maguire were lovers. The Central Criminal Court didn’t know about their affair, and the Garda didn’t know, and the press didn’t know. Nobody knew but the two of them – until His Honour Mr Justice Garrett Quinn confessed it to his wife years later by way of atonement.’

‘It was Phinean Joyce who raped and killed the Lord Mayor’s wife, nobody else.’

‘Oh, really?’

‘Fair play to you, Orla, the witness who saw him coming out of the Lord Mayor’s front door had downed a few scoops, I’ll admit, but his description was totally accurate, right down to the corduroy cap that he was wearing. It would have made no difference if our relationship had come to light.’