I walk the scumbag witness out – he’s still bitching about his ruined lie-in – and watch him light a smoke and slope off. It’s headed for ten o’clock; the day is as strong as it’s going to get, all feeble grey light choked with cloud. I lean against the wall outside, ignoring the cold biting through my suit jacket, and ring Sophie while I’ve got some privacy. I figure a drug lord’s fat fingerprint in Aislinn’s bedroom, or even a nice bloodstain on one of Rory’s gloves, would do a lot to put my day on the right track.

‘Hey,’ Sophie says. ‘OK if I put you on speaker? This vase needs to make it back to Galway in one piece for the O’Flaherty case, and I swear the idiots on evidence transport use this stuff for football practice, so I’m packing it myself. In a year’s supply of bubble wrap. I’m in my office, so no one’s going to hear us.’

‘Sure,’ I say. ‘You got the stuff from our suspect, yeah?’

‘Yeah. The grey nylon gloves and black wool coat he was wearing, and navy-blue trousers, two white linen shirts, a pale blue pullover, red wool gloves, wool Fair Isle gloves – seriously – and black wool scarf from his flat. Plus fingerprints.’ Sophie does something that sounds like ripping off a piece of gaffer tape. ‘Just so you know: Breslin rang me yesterday evening. He was looking for all the scene reports, plus Aislinn’s electronics.’

The rough stone prods at my back through my jacket. ‘What’d you give him?’

‘What do you think I am? I gave him fuck-all. He came on like a headhunter, telling me how delighted he was that I was working this case, how none of the other techs are up to my standard – what kind of idiot thinks bitching about my mates is going to get on my good side?’ Tape ripping again. ‘I told him none of our reports were ready, what with this case not being the only one in the whole world, and the computer guys hadn’t even started on the electronics. Which was true, or near enough. Breslin wasn’t pleased, but he kept right on schmoozing. I swear, by the end of it I thought he was going to send me flowers.’

‘I’m gonna have a nice chat with Breslin,’ I say. I could kiss Sophie. ‘How far have you actually got?’

‘Reports are ready whenever you want them. I got my guys to work late. I figured if you’re trying to keep this stuff away from that arselick – and I don’t need to know why, I’m just saying – it might be useful if you were a couple of steps ahead of where he’d expect.’

‘It is,’ I say, lifting a mental finger at Breslin. ‘You’re a gem. Find anything good?’