Steve says, ‘How long’s McCann been married?’

‘Bernadette sent round a card for some anniversary, last year. Silver one, must’ve been. So?’

‘So he was married back when he was working this case. Gary said a lot of the Ds were smitten with Evelyn. What if that went further, for McCann? What if he was stretching out the case so he had an excuse to keep seeing her?’

The heat and the clacking keyboards are piling more fuzz onto my mind, thick as insulation. I picture grabbing Reilly’s keyboard and snapping it over my knee. ‘Only the case didn’t stretch out. They closed it as soon as they found Desmond.’

‘They did, yeah, officially at least – and we even said it was weird they didn’t do it sooner, remember? But maybe McCann told Evelyn he’d keep investigating in his free time, stay in touch, give her updates. Maybe there was actually something between them, maybe not; but either way, McCann might not want that coming out. His marriage isn’t in great shape, right? And he’s got a bunch of kids, hasn’t he? If the wife finds out he was using his job to chase Evelyn Murray, she could use that to—’

I say, before I know I’m going to, ‘Stop. Just stop.’

It comes out loud. One or two of the floaters lift their heads. I give them a snarl that smacks them straight back down again.

Steve is staring at me. He says, ‘What d’you mean?’

I say, and it takes everything I’ve got to hold my voice down, ‘All this shite is imaginary. Do you seriously not get that? Just about every single thing you’ve said since we got this case has been pulled straight out of your hole. Gangs and affairs and sweet Jesus Christ I don’t even know what—’

‘I’m coming up with theories,’ Steve says. He’s still staring. ‘That’s our job.’

‘Theories, yeah. Not fucking fairy tales.’

‘They’re not—’

‘They are, Moran. That’s all they are. Yeah, sure, all of it’s possible, but there’s not one iota of hard evidence for any of it. Here you are talking my ear off about Aislinn being a fantasist, coming up with stories to make herself feel better about her shite life: you’re doing the same fucking thing.’