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‘Sometimes love isn’t enough, my friend. Not nearly enough.’ He clasped the tablet to his chest in an effort to stop fidgeting. ‘I better head off.’

‘I met with Lottie yesterday. Just give her space to do her thing.’

‘That’s exactly the point.’ Boyd shook his head. ‘It’s not her thing. Not her investigation. She can’t keep her nose out of things that don’t concern her. She’s going to cause my sister heartbreak.’

‘How do you figure that out?’

‘Because of Bryan… you know, the murders…’ Boyd bit back an irritated expletive. ‘I can’t begin to think what will happen to Grace if he… if he actually killed someone.’

‘I’m sure he didn’t do anything wrong.’

‘But his DNA was at one of the murder scenes.’

Kirby put a hand on his arm to reassure him, but Boyd felt its weight. A weight of words he did not want to hear.

‘Listen,’ Kirby said, ‘stop thinking about things that haven’t happened yet. And if the worst does happen, I’m sure Grace is stronger than you give her credit for. If she calls off the wedding, it will be her choice.’

‘That’s the thing, it should be her choice, not Lottie’s.’

‘Come on. You’re being too black and white here. Lottie hasn’t done anything wrong. You’re overreacting.’

Boyd sighed, knowing he hadn’t the will to fight his friend. ‘What do you think about the murders? You’ve been involved in one here.’

‘It’s the same guy, I’d bet my pension on it.’

‘Then it couldn’t be Bryan, could it?’ A moment of elation replaced his suspicions.

‘We believe Edie was abducted on Friday, but her body wasn’t found until Monday morning. We’re attempting to check Robert Hayes’s movements for the weekend and I’m praying for a definite time of death soon. The pathologist suggests it’s somewhere between twenty-four and thirty-six hours before the body was found. If Edie had been in the river any longer, she’d probably have been discovered before Monday morning. I think, alive or dead, she was kept somewhere for that intervening time. I haven’t really looked at your future brother-in-law as a suspect yet and I’m not even sure if it’s the same killer for all the murders, but Lottie said Bryan couldn’t have killed Brigid Kelly, the priest’s housekeeper, as he was at home all night.’

Shifting from foot to foot, Boyd knew his intake of breath gave away his unease. He shook his head slowly.

‘What?’ Kirby asked.

Boyd saw the realisation dawn on his colleague’s face before he told him what he knew. But he had to spell it out, if only to clear his own mind. ‘The thing is, Bryan wasn’t home all that night. I heard him go out. Heard the engine of his car. Lottie slept through it.’

‘Well, holy God.’ Kirby ran a hand through his still damp mop of hair. ‘Does Grace know?’

‘Probably. Maybe not. I don’t know.’

‘Shit.’

‘Yeah. Shit.’

Kirby was quiet for a moment. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘Not my circus. I’ll let the local detectives do their job.’

‘I meant what are you going to do about Lottie? Your relationship?’

‘It’s finished. I’m done. This time it’s for real. I can’t live with her inconsistency, her obstinacy and her disregard for my feelings.’

‘I thought you understood her and how she works.’

‘I thought so too. Seems I was wrong.’ He opened the door and stepped outside, feeling decidedly sorry for himself.

‘Want my advice?’ Kirby held onto the door, and Boyd could see the compassion in his friend’s eyes. He was only trying to help.

‘Not really, I’ve my mind made up, but I suppose you’re going to tell me anyhow.’