‘What, thick Seamus? The manager?’

I nodded. Fintan looked surprised, always a triumph.

‘That’s strange. Maybe Seamus was a snout. You know he left literally two days after you did?’

My turn to be surprised. I knew he’d left, I didn’t know in such a hurry.

‘Where did he go?’

‘No one knows. One Monday morning, neither Seamus nor the weekend takings could be found anywhere.’

I thought back to what I’d told Shep. Had he warned Seamus off? As usual, I struggled to see the angles.

‘I thought Shep was in the Ghost Squad.’

Fintan laughed hard.

‘What’s so funny?’

‘No one knows who’s in the Ghost Squad. That’s why it’s called the Ghost Squad. Look, stop fretting will you? You’re worse than Mum. Shep likes you. He’s giving you a break. You’ll do fine. Life’s finally working out for you, bro. Now, what’s this about you owing me pints?’

Fintan was right: I should be celebrating so I bought two more and a pair of scotch chasers.

‘Anyway, how’s it going with Gabby?’ he said as I planted four glasses on our table. ‘Have you had your wicked way with her yet?’

How I wished I’d never mentioned her when we last met.

‘It’s not like that. I’m just helping her out.’

‘Out of her knickers if you get your way. I can see it in your eye. You’re like a sex-starved wolf.’

‘You can’t help yourself can you?’

‘What?’ he laughed.

‘Reducing everything to a base tabloid level.’

‘Your big mistake, Donal, was stopping that guy from stalking her. If Big Dom was still rampaging around her back garden every night, she’d be far more appreciative of your attentions. You’d be well in there.’

I couldn’t help wondering if his rampant success with women was the root of his apparent disdain for them.

Several rounds later, drink took hold and I spilled. It began with revelations about my ghostly Marion Ryan encounters. But my drunken confessional slide took me all the way back to those Tony Meehan apparitions, including how I’d witnessed him attacking Eve.

Fintan seemed particularly transfixed by the fact that these apparitions took place on the days I’d been either close to their dead bodies or the places where they’d met their violent ends.

His verdict: ‘It’s tempting to assume you are simply unhinged, but that’s too simplistic. Obviously you don’t possess any kind of supernatural gift.’

He lit a cigarette to focus.

‘The only conclusion I can come to is that, in your subconscious mind, you’re still trying to save Eve Daly.’

I wondered sometimes if the sole point of siblings is to remind you of past failings.

‘If you only ever take one piece of advice from me,’ he drawled, pissed but, for once, deadly serious, ‘stop trying to save Eve Daly.’

‘I’m not trying to save anyone. I’ve moved on.’

‘Well she certainly has,’ he sneered.

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’

‘Go on, spit it out. I can tell you’re dying to.’

‘I’ve heard that she’s shagging someone else.’

‘What?’ I said, confused by my own sense of shock.

‘You’re waiting for a woman who’s already moved on. I’m telling you, Donal, forget about her.’

‘How can you know she’s actually shagging this guy?’ I protested, probably too much. Would he now work out that Eve and I had engaged in pretty much everything except full penetrative sex?

‘Well maybe they’re stuck at second base, I don’t know all the lurid detail. The point is, she’s seeing someone.’

‘Who is he?

‘I don’t know. Someone from her legal team, I think they said. Look, it doesn’t matter who. You’re stuck in a fucking time warp and you need to move on.’

I nodded. But my gut knew I hadn’t seen the last of Eve Daly.

Chapter 15

King’s College Hospital, South London

Thursday, August 8, 1991; 10:10

I sat in the waiting room of King’s College’s Institute of Psychiatry, blaming the clock for every lost second, occasionally aloud – which alarmed only some of my fellow out-patients.

My consultation with Lilian had been scheduled for ten a.m. The clock said ten past.

I had until, at a push, eight o’clock tonight to fillet the Marion Ryan murder file and throw a bone at Shep. It needed to be a meaty one at that. His promise to make me Acting DC had been just that, a verbal promise. If I failed to deliver a fresh clue to support his domestic theory, he could renege on my promotion. And I was short on comeback.

I thought back to our last ‘consultation’: Lilian’s endless stock questions, me galloping round in circles like an unbroken horse. Unqualified shrink meets uncooperative patient: what, realistically, were we ever going to achieve? I came to see her the first time as a favour to Gabby. I’d paid my dues. There was nothing in it for me now.

‘Fuck it,’ I said, standing suddenly. The waiting room recoiled as one. I bolted.

Halfway up Denmark Hill, I heard the unmistakable, ‘Doner?’

I looked up to see Lilian jogging towards me.

‘Security alert! Couldn’t even get on a train for an hour,’ she panted, shooting down in flames any grievance I might have had. There was only one cause of security alerts in London: the Provisional IRA. Or, as senior police officers used to hilariously joke: ‘One of your lot, Paddy.’ With innocent English bodies piling up, it was hard to cry foul.

The ice maiden’s skin looked flushed, her forehead damp.

‘Are you okay?’ I asked.

She blinked often and hard.

‘You weren’t going to come back, were you?’

‘Yes … no … look Lilian, everything’s changed.’

She looked me in the eye, properly, possibly for the first time.

‘I’ve been brought onto a murder squad as Acting DC. Guess which case?’

Her lips parted slightly.

I nodded: ‘Marion Ryan’s murder.’

She looked unsettled, maybe even unnerved.

‘Which means I’m bound to get back to the murder scene. If I do, and she attacks me again, won’t that prove something?’

She let my question bounce off her. Lilian Krul wouldn’t even entertain the notion that I had some inexplicable, illogical, unscientific spiritual connection with Marion Ryan. The very thought offended her logical mind.

I worried that even hard evidence wouldn’t sway her.

‘Congratulations,’ she said finally, politely, as if I’d just beaten her at tennis.

‘My new boss wants me to go through all the statements and paperwork today. I’ve got to report to him tonight,’ I said, checking my watch and pulling an apologetic face.

‘What about our work?’ she frowned, inspecting me without a blink.

‘I’m not sure I’ll have time … this is a big break for me, Lilian.’

She nodded, so I kept going, ‘And the last meeting felt, well, it just felt like we were going over the same old ground.’

She blinked once, slowly, almost ceremonially. The muscles in her cheeks clenched: ‘You know something, Doner, I’ve been spending day and night researching your case, tracking down papers, reports, books, talking to experts all hours of the day and night, all over the world. I didn’t even go on holiday in the end. I spent it all working. On your case. And you continue to act like you’re doing me a favour. You show no faith in me or my work, or respect. I’m tired of it. You’re right, let’s just call it a day. I wouldn’t want to waste any more of your precious time.’

That was easy, I thought. ‘Really?’ I said.

‘It’s just a shame, as I think I’ve made a breakthrough.’

She visibly relished my renewed eagerness.

‘What have you found?’

‘I’ve found a condition that seems to fit your experiences. I worked all week to get it ready for today but … it doesn’t matter. You’ve got more important …’

‘What? What is it?’

I almost grabbed her by the arms in excitement.