She could tell that they missed Conor almost as much as she did, and how keenly they sensed her grief. In the days after he had died, Barney had sat in front of her whenever she was at home, resting his head in her lap, his ears spread wide like Falkor in The NeverEnding Story, and both of them had followed her from room to room.

She walked as far as Rinacollig, a narrow side road that led down to the estuary’s edge, and she stood there for a while looking out over the night-glittering water.

Be peaceful, she told herself. Forget all the shock of shooting Feargal Grífin and all the hostilities and complications of the day’s investigations. It was a chilly evening, so she kept her hands thrust deep in her overcoat pockets, but at least it wasn’t raining, and the moon occasionally showed its face behind the clouds.

She was still standing there when her phone played Mo Ghille Mear.

‘Katie? It’s Kieran. I saw you on the news a couple of minutes ago talking about that raid in Blackpool this afternoon. Three men dead! You’re okay yourself, though?’

‘A little shaken, Kieran, to tell you the truth. But I wasn’t hurt. And would you believe the fellow I took down was one of the two who tried to shoot us outside Greenes. He admitted it. Well, he didn’t exactly admit it. He cursed himself for having missed me, which was pretty much an admission. Not only that, but he was the same fellow who drove off with Garrett Quinn on the morning that Garrett was killed.’

‘Hold on. Does that mean that it could have been Barry Riordan who arranged to have Garrett done away with?’

‘Well, Feargal Grífin is one of his gang, after all. One of his inner circle, from what I gather.’

‘Yes, but I can’t see the logic in Barry Riordan having Garrett killed, can you? Garrett was all ready to pass down a life sentence on the man who shot his brother and his family. And I can’t see the logic in him arranging to have me and you done away with, either. It was you and your detectives who arrested Donal Hagerty, and it’s me who’ll be sentencing him on Monday morning in Garrett’s place. It makes no sense at all. You would have thought Barry Riordan would have wanted to pat us on the back rather than shoot us in the front.’

‘You’re right, Kieran. But I’m too tired to think about it any more tonight.’

‘Will you be free at all tomorrow?’

‘Sunday is supposed to be my day off but I’ll be going in to the station in the morning to sort out one or two things. I should be clear by lunchtime, though.’