Holly shrugged. ‘All of ours. We were talking about the girls who went to school here a hundred years ago – if they ever thought about the same things as us, stuff like that; what they did when they grew up. If any of their ghosts ever came back. Then we thought of this.’

Chair across the table from Holly, for me. Bang. Chair opposite Mackey, for Conway. Bang.

Four scrolls hanging in the air above the main staircase. I said, ‘Who’re those?’

‘Hepzibah and her friends. Elizabeth Brennan. Bridget Marley. Lillian O’Hara.’

‘Where are they going?’

Holly reached between wires and touched the scrolls with the tip of her little finger, set them whirling. She said, ‘We don’t even know for sure they were friends. They could’ve all hated each other’s guts.’

I said, ‘It’s beautiful.’

‘Yeah,’ Conway said. Like a warning. ‘It is.’

From behind us: ‘Fancy meeting you here.’

Mackey, in the doorway. Leaning back on his heels, bright blue eyes scanning, hands in the pockets of his brown leather jacket. Barely changed from the first time I’d seen him; the long fluorescents picked out deeper crows’ feet, more grey mixed in with the brown, but that was all.

‘Hiya, chickadee,’ he said. ‘How’s tricks?’

‘OK,’ Holly said. She looked at least half glad to see him, which is pretty good for a sixteen-year-old’s daddy. Another thing that hadn’t changed much: Mackey and Holly made a good team.

‘What’ve you been chatting about?’

‘Our art project. Don’t worry, Dad.’

‘Just making sure you haven’t made mincemeat of these nice people while I wasn’t there to protect them.’ Mackey switched to me. ‘Stephen. Too long no see.’ He came forward, held out his hand. Firm handshake, friendly smile. At least to start with, we were going to play this like everything was hunky-dory, all friends together, all on the same side.

I said, ‘Thanks for coming in. We’ll try not to keep you too long.’

‘And Detective Conway. Nice to meet you, after all the good things I’ve heard. Frank Mackey.’ A smile that was used to getting a response, got none off her. ‘Let’s step outside while you brief me.’

‘You’re not here as a detective,’ Conway said. ‘We’ve got that covered. Thanks.’

Mackey tossed me an eyebrow-lift and grin: Who pissed in her cornflakes? I got caught, not sure whether to smile back or not – with Mackey, you never know what he could turn into ammo. The paralysed gawp on me just made his grin get bigger.

He said to Conway, ‘Then if I’m just here as a daddy, I’d like a quick chat with my daughter.’

‘We need to get started. You can have a chat when we take a break.’