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Bryan couldn’t help smiling. Good to have the detective rattled before they began.

The door opened and in walked a young, petite woman. Hair scraped back from her face, dressed in a black skirt suit with a red power blouse beneath. She slapped a new-looking brown leather tote bag on the table and extracted a yellow pad along with a silver-coated Cross pen. Bryan almost groaned. She looked like she’d just finished secondary school.

‘I hope you haven’t been interrogating my client in my absence.’ Her voice was strong and sharp. Perhaps he needed to revise his opinion, which he’d based solely on her appearance.

‘I’d never contemplate doing such a thing,’ Mooney said. ‘Welcome, Norah.’

She threw him a look that told him she knew he had no more welcome for her than a storm at sea.

‘Proceed,’ she said.

While Mooney did the tape introductions, Bryan studied his solicitor. They hadn’t met before, had never spoken. How could she represent him?

‘Mr O’Shaughnessy has not been charged with any crime yet,’ Mooney said. ‘But I do have a few questions for him.’

‘Why arrest him, then?’ Norah asked.

‘He was already in for questioning yesterday, and rather than him becoming a flight risk, I arrested him this morning.’

‘Arrested him for what exactly?’

‘We suspect he was involved in the murder of Assumpta Feeney.’

‘What?’ Bryan said. ‘That’s ridiculous.’

‘The royalwe? What evidence do you have?’ Norah was more like a terrier than a bulldog, Bryan decided.

‘DNA,’ Mooney said.

‘How did you get my client’s DNA?’

‘He voluntarily provided it, along with his fingerprints, yesterday evening.’

She seemed to be working hard not to glare at Bryan. ‘What reason did you have for requesting that from my client, Detective Sergeant Mooney?’

‘Mr O’Shaughnessy told us he’d handled a plank of timber that had blood on it. It was found on his property. It may have been used in an assault.’

‘Is this the property where the Feeney woman was murdered?’

‘No, she was found dead at a holiday cottage a few miles away. The board was discovered at an old ruin of a house on Mr O’Shaughnessy’s land.’

‘Hmm.’ Norah tapped her chin with her shiny pen. ‘What is the relevance of that piece of timber to the murder at a different location?’

‘We have not established a connection yet. But it will be relevant. Can I ask my questions now, Ms Ward?’

‘I’m not stopping you.’

Mooney exhaled loudly, puffing out his cheeks. He outlined the discovery of the body at the holiday cottage and how they had identified Assumpta Feeney. ‘Her DNA was on PULSE. She’d been involved in a minor demonstration in January where a guard was injured. The lab was able to make the match. We are attempting to trace her relatives, if she has any. She was aged fifty-five and lived in Galway.’ He opened his file and flicked through a few pages before extracting one. He slid it over the table.

‘What’s this?’ Bryan asked.

‘A DNA profile.’

‘What has that got to do with me?’ He felt Norah tap his arm and turned to her.

She whispered, ‘No comment. That’s your answer to everything.’

‘Good question, Mr O’Shaughnessy,’ Mooney said, ignoring the fact that he’d heard the solicitor’s instruction. ‘I thought you might be able to tell me what it has to do with you.’