‘Not a lot.’ Deasy looks wrecked enough that I believe he’s been awake at least most of the time. The air in the car smells of fish and chips, too much breathing, and there’s probably a piss-bottle under the seat. ‘That there, the grey door next to the bookshop, that goes up to his flat; the windows over the bookshop, those are his sitting room. He went to the Spar on the corner around nine last night, came back with a pint of milk and a sandwich. The little bollix looked petrified; kept looking around like someone might jump him. I nearly gave him a blast of the horn when he passed me, just to watch him keel over.’

That gives us both a good laugh. ‘Lovely,’ I say. ‘That’s where we want him. Any other movement?’

‘He closed his curtains when he went in, but the light stayed on all night. Twenty past five, he came down and went into the shop. Hasn’t shown his face since. Are you bringing him in?’

‘Nah. Later. I just want to poke him a little bit, keep him on his toes. No reason why he should get a lie-in when I don’t.’

The thought pulls a yawn out of Deasy. ‘Speaking of which,’ I say. ‘Call someone to take over, and go get some kip.’

He looks startled. It strikes me that I may have been kind of a bitch to the floaters on this one, at least part of the time. When Breslin went looking for a stooge, I’d made it easy for him.

‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘For covering this.’

Before Deasy can find an answer, Steve rolls up, with his hands in his overcoat pockets and a look on his face that no one could call friendly. ‘Morning,’ he says. ‘What’s the story?’

‘No story,’ I say. ‘What’re you doing here?’

‘Just checking in. Wanted to see if Rory’s done anything interesting.’

‘He hasn’t.’

Steve raises his eyebrows at Deasy, who’s soaking all this up. ‘What’s he been at?’

Deasy opens his mouth, catches my eye and shuts it again. ‘Ah. Not much.’

‘Like I just told you,’ I say. ‘See you back at HQ.’

Steve doesn’t move. ‘Are you planning on talking to him?’

‘I might.’

‘I might join you.’

I jut my jaw up at the dark sky, but I manage to keep it together, what with Deasy being there and all. ‘Do you not have a tree to shake, no?’

‘Good one,’ Steve says. ‘Will we go in?’

After a moment I do a tight sigh. ‘Whatever.’ To Deasy: ‘See you tomorrow.’ And I head across the road without waiting for Steve.