As her career had blossomed, she’d done fewer and fewer interviews. When she did speak, it was usually in Ireland. At home, she was guaranteed the questions would be gentle, bordering on fawning. Elsewhere, she might get more of a grilling. Her blink-and-you’ll-miss-it first marriage, her stint in rehab for ‘exhaustion’, aka prescription-drug addiction (he probably shouldn’t have joked about morphine in her presence), her chaotic affair with a loutish footballer: these were not episodes Tess wished to discuss with strangers.

Each scandal had added a line to Ginny’s forehead, not that she’d ever admit it. That was why Conor had found the ‘Go easy on Mam’ lecture hard to take. Although he rarely got annoyed with Tess, he was irritated with her attitude towards him now – and he was irritated with her attitude towards Nina. Yes, Nina’s behaviour had been tacky, but she’d been little more than a kid. In Conor’s view, she’d been the most immature of the four. Tess wasn’t making any allowance for that.

The new garda station in Templemorris had been built at the height of the boom. A large white building with long windows, it was a monument to a time when the country had been devoured by notions. If you asked Conor, it looked more like a shopping centre than a place where people investigated crimes.

To reduce the risk of being seen, he parked his car at the rear of the station. Jennifer met him at the back door and showed him to an upstairs meeting room. The table was covered with an assortment of folders, paperwork spilling from every one. There was also a box containing pieces of evidence. Nowadays, everything was computerised, but in 1982 computers belonged to science fiction films. In Kilmitten, typewriters had been considered high-tech.

The window looked out onto the town’s main street, giving him a view of a betting shop and a hair salon. The room smelt faintly of sweat.

‘You do know—’ started Jennifer.

‘That you shouldn’t be doing this?’ finished Conor. ‘I do, and I really appreciate your help, Jen. Seriously I do. By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask: has there ever been any talk of the investigation being reopened?’

‘Not that I’ve heard.’

A specialist team was re-examining unsolved cases, most of them dating from the 1980s. Like the death of Leo Galvin, some of the crimes had been highly controversial. In more than one, scientific developments, like DNA testing, had led to a breakthrough. With others, the passage of time had made it easier for witnesses to talk. In at least two more, a fresh pair of eyes had been enough. Up until recently, Conor had expected the priest’s death to be on the list, but after the conversation with his father he was less sure. If ever a case had fallen behind a radiator, this was it.