“Okay,” said Callinan. “Yiz have your work cut out for you here by the look of things.”

The van door slammed. Kilmartin’s gaze lingered on Malone.

“Well, I don’t know now,” he said to Callinan. “We have one solid lead here.”

Callinan scratched under his arm again. “The trade here by the canal, like?”

“It’s relating to the perpendicular parking all right,” said Kilmartin. “She’s definitely not from Dublin.”

Callinan stopped scratching and eyed Minogue for a clue. Kilmartin’s eyes were wide but he wasn’t smiling.

“Didn’t spot it? Easy enough, I’d have thought. No? She had her knickers on.”

A startled look came to Callinan’s face. Malone looked down at his shoes. Kilmartin trudged off toward the lock again. Minogue followed him.

“Jimmy. Give over with the digs.”

“What digs?”

“It’s not the best time for Tommy to appreciate your, er, sense of humour.”

Kilmartin gave his colleague a hard look.

“That a fact now? He acts like he knows it all. The gloves on, the site taped up before we even get there. Calling in the frogmen. Walking around with the phone in his pocket. Cock of the walk.”

“So he’s keen, Jimmy.”

“Keen? He’s a gurrier is what he is. Hair-style cop. Television etcetera. Where does he think he is, LA, is it?”

“Just for the record-”

“Record-hah! It’s his brother has the record, isn’t it? Assault, three convictions-starting from the age of fourteen. B and E list the length of the Naas Road. The brother’s a druggie-”

“You’ve done a lot of homework on the brother, I can see.”

“A damn sight more than you have, and you handing Molly the frigging job! Ever hear the word genes?”

“Is he his brother’s keeper?” Kilmartin snorted and lit a cigarette.

“Oh, very slick one there. Very slick, to be sure. Say a decade of the rosary while you’re at it. Have you heard of heredity? How come one’s a Guard and the other’s a gouger?”