1923
Sergeant Brosnan gave Private O'Dwyer the nod to start the car. A day and a half now they'd spent, questioning witnesses, and the only useful one so far was the bar girl from Ryan's of Rathmeelin, who, as far as he could make out, was the last person to see O'Donovan alive. He had taken a drink there around teatime and left, telling her that he had an appointment in Mucknamore at seven o'clock. At 7.14pm his watch stopped, presumably in the wet sands.
Stuck in sinking sands waiting for the returning tide to take you: what a death. If he was lured, Kavanagh was right in saying it was one evil act.
The car spluttered and coughed into its workaday rumble and they were pulling out onto the road when a man came lumbering up to them and started to wave his two arms like a windmill. He wa
