Tom sensed that he was being softened up for a revelation – or a question. ‘The truth, Conor, is that we’ll never find out what happened.’ He got up from behind his desk. ‘You know as well as I do that a lot of time and effort has been put into improving Kilmitten. Dragging up the past will only harm the reputation of the village. Nobody would want that.’

Conor’s grey eyes narrowed. ‘Three men being shot dead probably didn’t help the Avondhu’s rating on TripAdvisor, but nobody suggested we hush it up.’

‘There’s no need to be smart.’

‘I’m being straight with you.’

Tom perched on the other end of the sofa. ‘You went to look at the files.’

‘Who told you that?’

‘I have my sources.’

‘Yeah, I did. Another look never does any harm.’ Conor ran his hands along his thighs, as if steadying himself for what was to come. ‘Ahm … Listen, I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but your father was one of the people who borrowed money from Father Galvin. He owed three hundred pounds. Not a whole pile now, but in the early eighties …’ His voice trailed away.

Tom went to speak, then wavered. While in one way the news surprised him, in others it had the ring of truth. His father had always been short of cash. In those days, the petrol station had been quiet, and the house had been a sponge for money. He wondered if his mother had known about the debt. ‘This is all news to me,’ he said, ‘but I hope you’re not suggesting—’

‘I’m not suggesting anything. It got me thinking, that’s all.’

‘Why mention it, then?’

‘Because I thought you deserved to know.’

Tom thought for a moment. He wasn’t sure if Conor genuinely suspected his father, but he guessed that more was to come. He had to take back the initiative. A height advantage would help. He stood up and patrolled the room. ‘I’ve every sympathy for you, Conor. God knows, you’ve been through a lot. But what you’re doing now is self-indulgent. It’s like a vanity project. You can’t do anything about the Burkes and the McPartlands so you’ve returned to a crime your father couldn’t solve.’

Conor’s response was immediate. ‘It’s not just “a crime”. A man was killed in our village. In your house. And nobody has had justice. Noel O’Grady definitely wasn’t to blame, by the way.’

‘Suppose it wasn’t O’Grady. That doesn’t—’

‘You know it wasn’t.’

‘No, I don’t.’

‘Yes, you do,’ said Conor. ‘Anyway, he had an alibi.’

‘I wasn’t aware of that.’

‘You didn’t have to be.’