It was only after she’d made her tea and toast and taken a seat at the kitchen table that she saw the file. A manila case file, pale blue, left neatly on an otherwise empty kitchen table. Carrie didn’t need to look at the label to know that it was from the Collins case.

She gritted her teeth, then went over to the coffee table, found a newspaper there that wasn’t more than a couple of days old, and took it back to the kitchen. Taking a bite from her toast, she turned the pages, focusing on the crime reporting mostly, looking for anything interesting. But it was no use. The file would not be ignored. Cursing herself inwardly for doing exactly what her sister would expect her to do, she opened the file and started to read.

Carrie’s shift started at seven p.m. She reached the station at a little after six fifteen, which gave her time to dump her bag in her locker and make her way up to the second floor twenty minutes before the briefing was about to start.

Store Street Garda Station was one of the busiest in the country. It was a good-looking building, with polished granite walls at ground-floor level and enormous windows further up. The squad room was on the sixth floor. Carrie made her way upstairs quickly, hoping to get some time at the computer before the briefing kicked off. She returned a couple of greetings sent her way, then found an empty desk and logged into pulse. She waited for the screen to load, glancing around before she started her search. There was no way to do this and completely cover her tracks—anyone looking up her badge number could see her search history and that might prompt some questions.

Maybe this was a mistake. Carrie hesitated, then shook herself. What she was about to do wasn’t that controversial—she was curious, that’s all. And Aifric had had a point about Evelyn Ross’s statement. It was oddly disjointed, jumping around in time, and where Evelyn quoted Laura, the language was flowery and overly dramatic. But a signed statement wasn’t a direct transcript of a witness interview. Interviews were recorded and later transcribed, then the relevant parts of the interview were summarized into a written statement by a garda and presented to the witness for signature. Carrie wanted to go back to the source. She opened the file containing the recording of Evelyn Ross’s full interview, slipped on a pair of headphones, and pressed play.

Forty minutes later, the recording was over, and Carrie had more questions than ever. But officers were gathering on the other side of the squad room, waiting for the briefing to start. Quickly, she ran a search for Evelyn Ross in the system, looking for any previous encounters Evelyn may have had with the police. There was one hit: the Collins case wasn’t the first time Evelyn had been a witness to a crime. Carrie scanned the information available, scribbled a few quick notes, then she logged off. She joined the small crowd at the other side of the room. The door to the briefing room was still shut. Through the glass wall, she could see Niall Reynolds inside with their sergeant, and Detective Sergeant Charlie Sweeney. There was a lot of smiling going on, and as Carrie watched, Charlie shook Niall’s hand, and the sergeant gave him a pat on the back.