‘Ah, come on, man,’ Steve says, leaning forward across the table. ‘You know as well as I do, we’re looking to scupper her story. You think we want you to be our man? Are you serious? If we find out you did this, we’re fucked. You think we want to sit out in that observation room trying to decide whether we’re going to charge one of our own squad with murder?’

McCann turns those deep-set eyes on me. He’s got years more practice being expressionless than I do; I can’t read anything there. He says, ‘You’ve got no reason to love this squad. You’re fucked anyway; might as well take someone down with you.’

Even though I know what he’s at, the matter-of-fact tone sends something cold into me. I say, ‘I’ve got no problem with you. You’ve never done anything on me.’

He nods. ‘If you’ve got any sense at all,’ he says, ‘you’ll walk away. That’s me giving you my best advice; the same as I’d tell one of my own young fellas, if he was sitting where you are. I didn’t do this, so you’re not going to prove I did. If you try, all you’ll do is fuck yourselves up. Forget leaving the squad; you’ll have to leave the force. Maybe the country.’

We’ve all told a suspect his life is over if he doesn’t do what we want. The cold works its way in deeper anyway. I say, ‘Where’d you meet Lucy?’

After a moment McCann shakes his head, slow and heavy. ‘Your funeral,’ he says. ‘She was in Horgan’s with Aislinn – keeping an eye on her. Aislinn sitting there in her little shiny dress, sucking on her glass and enjoying everyone staring while she picked out who she wanted; and the other one with a puss on her, giving the filthies to anyone who looked twice at Aislinn. Aislinn told me after, she said Lucy dragged her to the pub because she wanted to cry on Aislinn’s shoulder about how she couldn’t get a fella . . .’ The corner of McCann’s mouth goes up; for a second his face looks almost soft. ‘She was a real innocent, Aislinn, in a lot of ways. She was like a kid. She honest to God thought Lucy was looking for a fella. Have you checked Lucy’s alibi?’

‘Yeah,’ I say, and realise what I’ve admitted when I see his grin widen. ‘Rock-solid. Sorry.’

‘But you wondered.’

‘We did our job.’

‘Like you’re just doing your job right now.’ The grin’s turned savage. ‘I’ll bet a hundred quid that Lucy one’s trying to put this on me. What’s she saying? I hit Aislinn? I treated her like shite?’

Me and Steve do the sideways glance again. ‘Not exactly,’ Steve says.

‘Actually,’ I say, ‘not at all.’

McCann’s face has gone back to blank. He wasn’t expecting this.

‘According to Lucy,’ I say, ‘you treated Aislinn like she was made of diamond. What you two had going on wasn’t a few shags. It was the real thing. The big L.’