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‘Those girls in the convent were victims, and if we’re to believe Bryan, they became perpetrators.’

‘Yes, but they had good reason.’

‘You’re absolving them of their crime?’ Boyd asked.

She thought about that for a moment.

‘They were abandoned through no fault of their own. If it’s true and not just hearsay or rumour, then they meted out their own sort of justice and I for one make no apology for it.’ She caught his askance glance at her. ‘Yes, yes. I know it goes against everything we believe in, but I was down in that basement, that dungeon of a place in the convent where they were forced to work, to slave day in and day out. Young girls called sinners and whores. Subjected to misery and torture. Yes, Mark, itwastorture. Nothing short of slavery. And then some fucker comes along and sexually abuses them. Good God Almighty.’ She couldn’t stop the anger as it rose like a sudden tropical storm within her.

‘Okay, I get it,’ Boyd said calmly, as if he was talking her down off a ledge. ‘And now someone is torturing and killing… who exactly?’

She relaxed a little. ‘I don’t know, but Mooney needs to identify that dead woman in order to progress his investigation.’

‘Do you think you should tell him everything Bryan said?’

This made her stop and think. Could she betray Bryan’s trust in her? ‘No. I can’t even verify it.’

‘I know that, but Imelda contacted him. That’s important for the investigation team. They might be able to find out who else she was in contact with. Those she interviewed.’

‘Maybe.’ Lottie stood, then paced in the confined space, conflicted emotions in every step. ‘I don’t want to get Bryan in any trouble. It will highlight his past when it seems he doesn’t even want Grace to know about it.’

Boyd stood too. ‘You mean Grace doesn’t know?’

‘That’s what he told me.’

‘Shit. That’s some way to start a marriage. He’s already keeping secrets from her.’

‘I’m sure he’ll tell her in his own time,’ she said, not sure at all. ‘I think he’d suppressed the bad memories and it’s possible Imelda Conroy resurrected them.’

‘How did she even know to find him? Someone had to have told her about him being in Knockraw. And that someone could be a killer.’

‘We are going round in circles here.’

Boyd touched her arm. ‘Talk to Mooney.’

Galway Garda regional and divisional headquarters looked like one of those American tech company headquarters. Contemporary and imposing, and totally out of character with its surroundings. Seagulls swooped, then squawked and soared into the sky. The smell of the tide reached Lottie as she stood outside the building.

‘Holy shit, this is a monster of a place.’ She looked up at the height, took in the frontal dimension with the evening sun behind it. ‘You work here?’ She was a bit frazzled. It had taken her well over an hour to get there in the awful Galway traffic. It never seemed to abate no matter what time you tackled a journey.

‘I’m based here in the city,’ Mooney said, ‘but I cover the Connemara district. A lot of the local stations have been downgraded over time.’

‘I suppose loss of manpower helps pay for this monstrosity.’

‘It does have an indoor firing range,’ he countered.

‘Great for dealing with murderers quickly. Bypassing the justice system?’ She grinned. ‘Why did you want me to come here?’ When she’d phoned him, he’d asked her to meet him at HQ. She’d had misgivings but had come anyhow.

‘To make a statement so as to classify your informal information as formal.’

She halted outside the main door. ‘No way. I was told it in confidence. It’s hearsay. Nothing concrete. A burned man who may or may not be dead. Another man who may or may not have been a priest. One or both may or may not have something to do with the woman’s murder in some sort of revenge attack. But we’re talking a gap of decades. Have you even identified her yet? Have you found Imelda Conroy?’ She talked herself into silence.

‘You know how these things work,’ Mooney said. ‘It takes time. Yours is the first solid piece of information I’ve got.’

‘The only thing you’ve got, you mean. What about forensics?’

‘Nothing yet. No hits on fingerprints. DNA will take a while.’

‘It’s a murder. Fast-track it.’