Jennifer picked up one of the files. ‘I remember as a kid watching the reports on the news. The poor fellow.’ She stopped, as if reconsidering what she’d said. ‘Was there ever a suggestion that he’d interfered with kids or anything like that?’

‘I don’t think so. Why do you ask?’

‘No particular reason, except that in the old days, folks didn’t talk about abuse. People like my parents wouldn’t have considered it possible, not by a man of God at any rate. And even when children did come forward, everything was hushed up.’

‘Have you come across any theories about his death?’

‘Nope. The one time I heard it mentioned was when one of the older lads was talking about Tom Crossan and how it all happened in his house.’ Jennifer put the file back on the table and looked at her watch. ‘I’d better get going. You shouldn’t be disturbed in here. Give me a buzz when you’re finished, and I’ll come and put everything away again.’

‘Thanks.’

She shrugged. ‘Fingers crossed you’ll find whatever it is you’re looking for.’

What was Conor looking for? The truth was, he didn’t know. He hoped he’d find some detail, however small, that had been overlooked back in the eighties. Some nugget of information that meant more now than it had then.

He sorted through the paperwork, trying to keep an open mind. This was easier said than done. Almost every statement was from someone he knew. He was struck by how young they’d been. To Conor, people like Brendan and Mercedes Talty had always been old, but in 1982 they’d been in their early forties. Younger than he was now. Ginny had been thirty-two. At forty-eight, Haulie and Cora Crossan had been among the eldest.

He thought about how nervous many would have been. How some would have feared saying the wrong thing. How others would have berated themselves for not remembering more. He thought, too, of how at least one of the statements was a collection of lies. Some party-goers were impossibly vague: ‘I’d had a fair bit to drink.’ Others were pointed: ‘There are bad people in this village, believe you me.’

As he read, Conor discovered the failings in his own memory. He would have guessed that Father Galvin’s body had been found around midnight. In fact, Cora had made her grim discovery shortly before eleven o’clock. Her screams had alerted a number of people, including Emmet Minogue. The doctor had attempted to administer CPR, but it had been too late.

At other points during his trawl, he felt half-forgotten memories being exhumed. Along with Tom, Tess and Nina, he featured in the investigation. They were referred to as ‘local children’, who had disturbed the snow at the back of the house. A typed report said they’d been questioned but had provided no useful information.