"To be sure, Inspector," Connors had said.

On the way over to Donavan's office, Minogue asked him if he was related to the Horsey Connors or the Hurling Connors. Connors replied that he knew of neither.

"Well there's Connors in Kilrush now and they were born with hurley sticks in their teeth. The Horsey Connors are from East Clare and they break the bookies in England regularly. As easy as kiss hands."

"Maybe I should have claimed relations with them, Sergeant, because I have no luck on the ponies at all. There's nags I put money on in Leopardstown and bejases I'd say they're still running."

"Oh, a bad sport to an honest man, the same horses," Minogue murmured. "There was another family of girls in Ennis but I would never ask if you have any kin with those Connors, not at all."

"Well, the ones in Ennis, are they Connors or O'Connors?"

"Oh they're Connors too, but they'd be nothing to you at all, I'm sure. A family of girls that never married."

"The Horsey Connors, the Hurley Connors," Connors mused.

"And the ones in Ennis," Minogue sighed.

"Who were they?"

"Well they were called the Whore Connors, so they were," Minogue said resignedly. "Silly of me to bring them into the conversation."

Minogue didn't smile but began to stare out over the bonnet of the car as if he were deep in thought.

Footsteps on the stairs and Donavan appeared from around the corner.

"Good morrow, men," said the doctor.

The two policemen eyed Donavan. He was a well-known eccentric. He wore a greying beard under owlish eyebrows with a red face bursting out from behind the hair. Donavan was crammed into a three-piece tweed suit tailored in the manner of suits of Minogue's father's day.

The office was a morass of paper and knicknacks. Connors observed bottles containing yellowy lumps of something, immersed in clear liquids. It dawned on him that these polypy lumps might well be pieces of flesh, preserved to be viewed and pondered over. A faint odour like a chemist's shop came to Connors as his eyes slipped out of focus and he swallowed, trying to rid himself of an unpleasant sweetness near his tonsils.