I lift my hands. ‘I’m only saying.’
‘This is what stressed looks like to you?’ He’s pointing at his gob, which is halfway between disbelieving and disgusted. ‘Your radar might need some recalibrating, Conway. What would I be stressed about?’
I shrug. ‘How would I know?’
Breslin’s not moving. ‘No. You can’t throw out something like that and then backpedal when I call you on it. What would I be stressed about?’
Stressed and defensive as hell, too, which is interesting. I decide not to point out that part. ‘Whatever. The usual. Work. Money. Life.’
‘My life is great, thanks very much. I love my work, unlike some – and if you think a few days with you and Ginger Boy is enough to change that, you’re flattering yourself. Financially, I’m fine – better than fine; not a care in the world. I’m a happy man. OK?’
‘Man,’ I say. ‘I’m only making small talk.’
Breslin stares me out of it for a long moment. Then: ‘All right.’
He heads off down the stairs again, making me follow. ‘Just a tip, Conway: we’ve all got our fortes. Small talk may not be yours.’
‘Maybe not,’ I say. So much for my heart-to-heart with Breslin. ‘Anything you want to tell me about yesterday evening?’
‘Rory’s big brothers came in for the chats. The reports are on my desk, if you want to take a look, but there’s nothing good in there. They both say Rory is a New Man who respects women and would never God forbid hit one; he’s been dumped a few times – surprise, surprise – and he just got depressed about it, never angry. They know the bookshop’s not in great financial shape; they claim Rory would have come to them for a loan if he needed one, not to his new bird, but they’re both skint as well, so I don’t see why he’d bother. I got both of them on tape so we can play them to Whatsisname at Stoneybatter, but to be honest with you I’ll be surprised if he IDs them. I think they genuinely are as clueless as they’re making out.’
‘Great,’ I say. ‘Did you ring Sophie Miller looking for Aislinn’s electronics?’
Breslin’s face turns to me, eyebrows lifting in a warning. ‘Yeah. Is that a problem?’
‘I said me and Steve were on those.’
He stops on the landing so he can give me a proper stare. ‘Ah, Conway, come on. I get that you want to keep the good stuff for yourselves, but this isn’t playschool; you don’t get to call dibsies on your special toys. This is the real world. What matters is getting the job done.’
‘Yeah. And we’re well able to do that.’
‘Not last night, you weren’t. The two of you were home getting your beauty sleep – I know, I know, double shift, but the fact remains, you weren’t here, were you? And I was. I finished up with Rory’s brothers, I set up appointments with the rest of his KAs, I put in a call for his phone records, and then I had a little time on my hands. So I decided to use it. You should be thanking me, instead of getting your knickers in a twist.’
I say, ‘Did you find out anything useful?’
Breslin eyes me. He says, ‘Miller didn’t have anything ready.’
‘Right. That’s why I’m not thanking you. Also because I like knowing who’s doing what in my investigation, so I don’t make a tit of myself trying to get something done and being told someone else already did it.’
Breslin’s jaw moves. ‘Conway. You need to chill out. Just bear in mind that I’ve got a lot more experience than you do. If I do something, I think you can take it on trust that it’s in the best interests of the investigation.’
‘No,’ I say. I can hear Steve in my head going We need to get on with Breslin, but I want to see what happens. ‘I’m bearing nothing in mind. Unless I missed your promotion, we’re on the same squad, and this is my investigation. Which means you’re the cheeky little bollix who’s getting above himself, and you’re the one who needs to bear in mind who’s who here.’
For a second I think I’ve taken it too far, but Breslin forces his face into weary resignation, like a teacher who should never have expected better from that problem student. ‘OK, Conway. Next time I consider contributing a little extra to your investigation, I’ll be sure and run it by you first.’ Eye-roll. ‘Does that make you feel better?’
‘Yeah. It does.’
‘Good. So could you maybe pull that stick out of your arse?’
‘I . . . Jaysus.’ I dial it right back, turn all sheepish. ‘I didn’t mean to . . .’ I glance down the corridor, making sure no one’s heard me being a bad little D. ‘It’s not easy, you know? Having someone like you on board. It’s pretty intimidating. I don’t always manage to . . . yeah. Manage to deal with it right.’
‘Well,’ Breslin says. He takes his time thinking that over, to teach me a lesson, but he’s puffing out with self-satisfaction. ‘I suppose I can see that. That’s no excuse for getting defensive, though. We’re on the same team here.’
‘I know, yeah. I apologise.’ I won’t lick arse for the sake of getting wankers to like me, but for the sake of getting wankers, I can slurp with the best. ‘And I do appreciate the help, and the advice. Even if I’m not the best at showing it.’
Breslin nods. ‘All right,’ he says, all magnanimous. ‘We’ll say no more about it.’
‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘Where are you headed?’
‘I’ve got appointments with more of Rory’s KAs. If that’s still all right with you.’
He’s smiling, although there’s an edge underneath. ‘That’d be great,’ I say. ‘Thanks a million. See you later.’
And I give him a humble duck of my head and start back up towards the incident room. McCann is gone off the upstairs landing. I’m on the top floor and turning down the corridor before I hear Breslin’s footsteps start again, echoing around the stairwell in slow cold claps.
The incident room is getting on grand without me, which probably should feel like a good thing. The floaters are busy little bees and making sure it shows: Gaffney is scribbling, Meehan’s finishing up a phone call; Kellegher and Reilly are hunched towards their monitors, fast-forwarding through jerky CCTV footage. Stanton and Deasy are somewhere else, presumably at Aislinn’s work. Steve has our boss desk all to himself, he’s turned it into a nest of printouts and Kit Kat bars, and he’s whistling peacefully while he works his way through them. He looks happy.
‘Morning, all,’ I say, throwing my stuff onto my desk. The floaters whip out smiles like they love me. If anyone’s got to any of them – and someone almost definitely has: whatever Breslin’s agenda is, the first thing he would need is at least one floater in his pocket – they’re good at hiding it.
‘Howya,’ Steve says. ‘Sorted?’
‘Yeah.’ I didn’t give him details, just said I wanted some extra from the scumbag witness, and he didn’t ask. ‘Anything I should know?’
‘Sophie e-mailed us some stuff, just now.’ He lifts a page.