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you any more. Ever.
    I ring the number Val gave me. I expect his secretary to answer, before correcting myself. People like Gerard Hayden don’t have secretaries.
    ‘Hello,’ I say. I can hear my own nervousness. ‘My name is Clodagh Hamilton.’ And I’ve no idea why I’m using my maiden name. ‘I got your number from my sister-in-law, Valerie Hamilton.’
    ‘Hello, Clodagh. Good to hear from you.’ He sounds confident. ‘I’ve been expecting your call.’

Leeson Street Bridge
    Approaching Leeson Street Bridge, Kate could see more television crews setting up on the south side, a reasonable distance back from where the body had been discovered. It was a great vantage point. Close enough to ensure those viewing the broadcasts would feel part of the action. The nearer the reporters managed to get to the murder location, the better the news coverage would be received.
    It hadn’t taken Kate long to decide to abandon the car. Now, walking past the stream of photographers and television crew without attracting too much attention, she saw O’Connor before he saw her. From a distance, she watched him giving instructions to everyone around him, picking up his mobile phone every few seconds to take another call. His short but unruly auburn hair and beard stubble gave him the look of a guy who didn’t get hung up on the small stuff, but his profile within the force had risen since his investigation of the Devine and Spain case. His recent promotion – he was now heading up a team at Harcourt Street – and the expectation of high media interest yet again made him the obvious choice for senior investigation officer in this case.
    On seeing Kate, O’Connor began the walk over, a young male following in his wake. Mark Lynch had been in the élite National Detective Unit attached to Harcourt Street for over a year. Kate hadn’t met him before, but she took an instant liking to the lanky young detective, with his heavy dark-rimmed glasses and cropped curly black hair.
    ‘Mark, I want you to take Kate through absolutely everything wehave so far. Every detail, no matter how small or irrelevant it might seem.’
    ‘Not a problem, sir.’
    ‘Kate, Mark will be working closely with you on this investigation. He’s your contact. You can take it that everything you hear from him is also coming from me. Is that okay with you?’
    ‘Of course.’ She nodded. She’d assumed she would be working directly with O’Connor, but he had clearly decided otherwise. Within moments of their initial introduction, O’Connor turned on his heels, leaving her and Lynch to get acquainted.
    ‘How long have you worked with O’Connor?’
    ‘The last few months. Before that I covered the Sweetman case. O’Connor was part of the final review squad before we handed the file over to the DPP.’
    ‘The young model who committed suicide?’
    ‘That’s the one. Gloria Sweetman.’
    Lynch had obviously earned his stripes, and if he was working closely with O’Connor, he was a detective to depend on. There was something sharp about him, a quiet confidence that Kate liked. Sensing Lynch wanted to move the conversation on, she obliged. ‘So, what do we have here, Mark?’
    Flicking open his notebook, he began: ‘Victim was found floating face up in the water. No effort had been made to hide the body, nothing attached to it to weigh it down, or any form of covering over it.’
    ‘Perhaps the killer was short on time?’
    Lynch took her question as rhetorical, looking up briefly from his notebook before continuing as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘The grassed area running alongside the canal bank has recently been cut, so the grass was tight. Some bagged and tagged items have been taken from the immediate vicinity. Surface litter mainly, including a receipt for a hotel.’
    ‘Which one?’
    ‘Maldon House – it’s in Blessington.’
    Kate knew it might be nothing – the receipt could have belonged to anyone – but it wouldn’t be the first time