Steve’s face has whipped round to me. ‘They were Cueball Lanigan’s boys. Both of them.’ I feel him get caught up by the same roller-coaster surge that’s speeding me along the footpath, feel the buzzing of the thing in our minds build higher. ‘And they were both Breslin’s cases. If he ended up in Lanigan’s pocket, right, and if Aislinn was seeing one of the gang and it went wrong, the first thing Lanigan would do—’

‘I told you not to get overexcited. I’ve put out feelers. If Aislinn was seeing someone from Lanigan’s crew, I’ll know soon enough.’ Steve looks a little wounded that I’m not opening up, but he’ll have to live with that. ‘The other good thing on her laptop: there’s a password-protected folder of pictures that she created in September. It’s labelled “Mortgage—” ’ Steve laughs out loud, and I can’t help a grin. ‘Yeah, that’s obviously bullshit. Sophie and her lot are still trying to crack the password; she’ll keep us updated.’

‘Did she tell Breslin about it?’

‘Nah. Neither did I. And I’m not planning to.’

Steve says, ‘So since September, Aislinn’s been worried about someone going through her laptop. That’s not Rory. She only met him in December, and he’d never been over to her place before.’

‘Maybe,’ I say. ‘Or else the folder’s full of naked selfies, and Aislinn wasn’t worried about anyone specific: she just didn’t want some junkie robbing her laptop and uploading her full-frontals.’

‘Naked selfies for who?’

‘For kicks, for a little extra income, left over from one of the exes, for someday when she’s old and wrinkly and wants to remember what a babe she was. How would I know?’

‘Or,’ Steve says, ‘it’s photos of her with her secret fella. And she really, really didn’t want anyone – including him – knowing she had them. Yet, anyway.’

I’ve been thinking the same thing. ‘Blackmail.’

‘Or insurance. If she was with a gangster, maybe she had just enough sense to know this could turn dangerous.’

‘“If,” ’ I say. ‘From now on, every time you say “if” about this case, you owe me a quid. I’ll be rich by the weekend.’

‘I thought you liked a challenge,’ Steve says, grinning. ‘Admit it: you hope I’m right.’

‘I do, yeah. That’d make a nice change.’

‘You do.’

We’ve slowed down behind a pair of gabbing old ones. I say, ‘I’d only love this to come through.’