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‘Never laid eyes on her before the day she arrived here with her questions. I don’t know where or how she got my name, but she seemed to know I’d been in Knockraw. Can you believe all this?’ His voice was breaking.

Lottie had to tread carefully. ‘You set me a task when I arrived. Do you truly think she could be linked to that quest?’

He looked up at her, his face grey, lines furrowed deep on his forehead. He twirled the cigarette around in his fingers, allowing it to burn down. ‘The truth is, I don’t know.’

‘Did you see any resemblance? To yourself or Mary Elizabeth?’

‘I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking along those lines at all.’

Lottie found Imelda’s photo on her phone. It was the one Mooney had shown her, taken from social media. It bore little resemblance to the distraught woman she’d met hiding at the convent. She turned the screen to show him.

‘She could be anyone,’ he said.

‘Did she hint at the fact you might be related?’

‘No, not a word. Just asked general stuff about my time there. She was going on about the chaplain. Seemed like she wanted to find him.’

‘Robert Hayes was the chaplain, and is a person of interest in a murder that took place this week in Ragmullin. Did you know about that?’

‘No, I didn’t, but it doesn’t surprise me. He was a cruel bastard back then.’

‘He ended up being a chef in Ragmullin. What can you tell me about him?’

‘I already told you. He’s the guy who… Listen, he wasn’t much older than I was then. He was only a deacon or something while he was there, before he became a priest. And now he’s a chef? Seems that man didn’t know what he wanted to be.’

‘You think he wasn’t a priest when you were at Knockraw?’

‘Not sure what he was. He always wore black and a white collar. God knows what he belonged to. The devil himself, I’d say.’

His words mirrored Brigid Kelly’s. ‘Is Hayes the guy you told me about? The one who used those young girls from the convent.’

‘He was part of it. Sex trafficker before it was a thing. Bastard.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘As far as I recall, the rumour was that he ferried young girls in his car between the convent and Knockraw in the dead of night. Those unfortunates were abused and I’m sure the nunsbenefited in some way. Probably got paid for allowing it to happen. I know no more about it. But I can believe it wasn’t just a rumour.’

His vehemence startled Lottie.

‘You told me before about a man who was burned in the convent. Was that him? Hayes?’

‘I can’t be rightly sure. It was a long time ago. I’d put that era behind me. I wanted to forget it for ever. Now it seems it has followed me into middle age.’

Boyd said gently, ‘You’ve been through a lot. Maybe later when you’ve had something to eat you might remember more.’ He gave Lottie a look that warned her to back off.

‘I’m sorry, Bryan,’ she said. ‘You’ve been interrogated by Mooney and now here I am doing the same. If you think of anything that might help us understand what is going on now, please tell me.’

‘All I know is that Imelda Conroy stirred a pot and now it’s overflowing.’ Bryan threw his cigarette into the fire and looked at her pointedly. ‘This DNA thing Mooney had, do you think it could be wrong?’

‘DNA is usually very accurate. But if he’s having the lab conduct further tests, it might indicate that it’s not complete, or they need to sort the anomaly.’

‘Then it could be true that this woman is related to me? I need to know, Lottie. I need to know for definite if she is my daughter, the child of Mary Elizabeth, who was thrown into that hellhole of a convent. Find out for me. Please.’

The door opened.

‘Find out what?’ Grace strode into the room. ‘Bryan! I never knew you smoked. I’m beginning to think there’s an awful a lot about you that I don’t know. You need to start telling me the truth.’

Lottie stood. ‘I agree with Grace. We’ll leave you both alone. I’ll muster up some food. We’ll be in the kitchen when you’re done here.’