“Can I help you?” Her smile of welcome changed to surprise.

“Sinéad Dempsey?” Aifric asked. She waited for the nod. “I’m so sorry to drop by unannounced. I’m Aifric Ryan. I’m one of the trial attorneys working on the Laura O’Donnell murder. Your name came up in the evidence, and I was wondering if you’d have a couple of minutes to chat? There are just one or two things I’d love to clarify.”

“Oh. Right. Of course.” Brow furrowed a little at the unexpected visit, Sinéad stepped back into her flat and held the door wide for Aifric to follow. “Would you like tea or anything?”

“Tea would be perfect, thanks so much.”

Five minutes later, they were comfortably set up in Sinéad’s small kitchen, sitting at her table, mugs of tea in hand.

“You have a lovely apartment,” Aifric said.

“Thanks. I’m only renting, more’s the pity. I’d love to stay, but it’s a bit out of my price range.”

The room really was small, but it was so nicely put together. The tiles were a traditional Victorian black-and-white check pattern, but everything else in the kitchen was white. The little round dining table had built-in bench seating, and there were open shelves above the countertop, displaying a couple of cookbooks and some matching storage jars filled with pasta. It was a bit kitsch, maybe, but warm and welcoming.

“What do you do, Sinéad?” Aifric asked.

“Oh. I’m a software developer. Well, officially my title is team leader, but that doesn’t really tell you a lot, does it?”

“Is that where you met Dermot Mulvaney? Do you work together?”

Sinéad shook her head. “We’ve been friends since college. We do similar stuff but work for different companies.”

“Right,” Aifric nodded. She took out her notebook. “Do you mind if I . . . ? It just helps keep the details straight in my mind.”

“Of course. Yeah, of course.” Sinéad took a nervous sip from her cup of tea.

Aifric turned to an empty page and uncapped her pen. “So, I’m not sure how much you know about the case?”

“Well, I read everything in the papers. I was interested, you know. Being so close to it.”

“Of course,” Aifric said. “And have you talked to Dermot about it at all?”

Sinéad flushed a little. “I suppose we have, a bit. Is that wrong?”

“God, no. It would have been weird if you hadn’t, wouldn’t it?”

That earned her a smile. “I suppose so.”

“I’m not sure if you know, but Robert Collins says he left the pub just after ten, and that he went straight home and straight to bed. And Dermot says that he was watching TV in their shared flat all evening, right up until one a.m., and he never saw Robert at all.”

“Yes,” Sinéad said with a nod.

“Dermot says he’s sure about the timeline because he was texting you all evening about the movies he was watching, and he sent the last text just before he went to bed at one.”