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Another page made its way across the table. ‘This is Edie Butler wearing the exact jewellery.’

‘I’m sure there are a lot of people with similar jewellery.’

‘Perhaps, but no one else would have that same jewellery containing Edie’s DNA.’

‘Is there a question there?’ Wilson dropped his eyes.

‘I also have proof that your wife was at a bridal expo in Birmingham last weekend and did not arrive home until Monday morning.’

‘So?’

‘So, you had the house to yourself. Did you have a nice time catching up about the old days with Edie? Before you filled her with drugs, as per her post-mortem toxicology results. Before you killed her?’

‘You can’t prove a thing.’

‘Do you know something? I can. Edie’s fingerprints were lifted from the mantelpiece in your living room. Hair has been recovered from your bath drain with her DNA. You killed her in the same bath in which you later killed your wife.’

‘You’re delusional.’

‘No, Mr Wilson, you are if you think you can talk your way out of this. But I would like to know why.’

‘Why what?’

‘Why did you have to kill all those women?’

‘If you’re so smart, you should know.’

Mooney felt his heart surge in his chest and his eyes went to the machine to double-check it was still recording. Wilson had as good as admitted to the murders.

‘You were the mastermind behind what went on between the convent and Knockraw. What age were you then? Nineteen? Twenty? So clever at such a young age.’

‘That wasn’t me. It was all Robert Hayes.’

‘He has a slightly different take on it.’

‘I’m sure he does. The lying weasel.’

‘What do you think he lied about? Killing the wee girl in the convent?’

‘He did that, not me.’

‘Ah, but he was under your immense influence. You were such a strong character and he just did what you told him to do.’

‘He couldn’t even do it right. Got me blamed. Did you see the scars I still have to this day? Those bitches were as delusional as you.’

Mooney tapped the folder again. He had copies of pages from Assumpta’s notebooks. But he didn’t want to show them to Wilson if he didn’t have to.

‘I can kind of understand why in your warped mind you felt you had to kill Assumpta. She was going to land you straight in the shit. She, Ann and Edie were all in the convent, and I believe Edie told you she wanted to tell her story to Imelda Conroy. And Brigid Kelly, she’d been in the convent too, and she’d later worked with Robert for years. You couldn’t risk her talking either. Then poor old Mickey Fox. He knew too much. Knew it all. You made him burn the records he’d stolen, then you came back and murdered him.’

‘And why on earth would I do all that?’

‘You had too much to lose with a general election coming up later this year. An old murder and abuse of vulnerable girls would not look great on your CV.’

Wilson was silent for a few moments, and when he spoke, his voice was so low Mooney had to strain to hear him. He hoped the machine picked it up.

‘I should have just killed Imelda Conroy. That would have saved me a lot of fucking bother.’

‘Why didn’t you?’