Fitzgerald stopped by one desk.

“That’s Paul’s. I put all his stuff in the drawers and that vertical cabinet there and I locked them. That was yesterday when I heard the news.”

He looked blankly to Minogue who was aware of the group still staring at them.

“And you have the keys?”

“I have. I swept his stuff off the desk and stuffed it all into his drawers and cabinet. The newsroom heard it first and a fella came over to us. We were terribly shocked here, just couldn’t believe it. Even with my expert knowledge of police procedure from watching the telly, it took me ten minutes to get my head together and fix up his desk. Hardly anyone here locks their desks. I turned the keys and put ‘em in me pocket.”

“Good man. I’ll be wanting to look at this stuff later, Mr. Fitzgerald,” said Minogue.

“And I’ll be wanting a list and a receipt detailing anything you take,” Fitzgerald replied.

Minogue looked back to the silent group and met their gaze for several seconds.

“I have me own private cell over here,” said Fitzgerald.

Seated in Fitzgerald’s office, Minogue took in the furnishings while Fitzgerald phoned for Brendan Downey. When Downey appeared, Minogue recognized him for one of the group huddled about the desk outside.

“What did Paul Fine do here, as regards his job?” Minogue asked then.

“He was a reporter/researcher: that’s his job description. He’d be one of eight people who works for the producer, i.e. me. He was a journalist and a reporter. Basically he would have called himself a journalist. He had been on the afternoon programme-”

“Day by Day?”

“Good for you, Inspector. We squeeze in segments of between five and ten minutes’ live time. It’s a magazine format that takes us to news-time on this channel.”