Some of the beaches that I know and love look almost too inviting. But what a newcomer to Fanore Beach on Ireland's West coast needs to be told is that it has an undertow. There is only so deep you should go at the southern end of this long strand, and only at certain times of the day too. I knew all this, and was free with my advice to newcomers. That did not prevent me one day from being drawn down the coast and out to sea, from that self-same beach.

Sometimes it’s time to … step off the bus.

And sometimes you have to throw X under the bus.

The ‘bus’ I am referring to is not a bus bus. It’s the story that is underway and proceeding, and close to finished. Doing this longish detective story imposes its own assumptions and habits as I write and edit each day. These notions and expectations and reflexes carry on just below the level of conscious awareness.

As always, the danger lies in letting things carry on, as though the story itself has its own logic and destination. Part of the destination has to be the revelation of the villain who is behind the violence stalking my protagonist and main character from the get-go.