Steve says, ‘When you walked in on her getting ready for Rory. Did that hit you out of the blue? Or did you already have your suspicions?’

‘No comment.’

‘Talk to us, man. What did she say? Did she tell you to get out and not come back? Did she laugh at you, for thinking a woman like her could love you? What?’

‘No comment.’

He’s not even trying to look at us, not any more. He’s staring at the wall between our heads, blank-eyed, tuning us out so everything we say is just faraway babble. I’ve seen that look before, on rapists, murderers. The ones we’re never going to break, because they know what they are and they’re not fighting it.

‘Where were you last Saturday evening?’ Steve asks.

‘No comment.’

The click of the door handle turning makes me and Steve jump. McCann doesn’t move. Breslin stands in the doorway, rain glittering on his black overcoat, smiling at us all.

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

‘Mac,’ Breslin says. ‘You’re wanted in the squad room.’

McCann looks up at him. Their eyes meet for a second that shuts me and Steve out completely.

‘Go on,’ Breslin says. ‘I’ll catch up with you in a few.’

McCann pulls himself out of his chair, joint by joint, and heads for the door. Breslin gives him a quick clap on the shoulder as he passes. McCann nods automatically.

‘Interview terminated at 3.24 p.m.,’ Breslin says, strolling over to the camera. He reaches up and switches it off. As he turns to the water cooler: ‘Well well well. Look who’s best buddies again. Sweet.’

I say, ‘I’d like to know what made you think we weren’t best buddies all along.’

‘You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t give a damn about your relationship right this minute. You just had the brass neck to accuse my partner—’

‘We’ll talk about that when I say so. Right now I want to know which one of the floaters went squealing to you, yesterday morning, told you me and Moran had had a row.’

‘Reilly,’ Steve says. ‘Wasn’t it? We started arguing, he stopped typing.’

I remember that, the sudden heavy silence where that witless clacking had been battering my brain. ‘I told you Reilly was a bright spark,’ Breslin says. ‘Unlike me, apparently. I spent twenty minutes sitting in the Top House before the penny dropped. Fair play to you, Conway: you make a very convincing South Dublin airhead. I didn’t know you had it in you.’ He raises his water cup to me. ‘I was lucky with traffic, though. Got back in time to catch the good parts of the show.’