He looked mutinous but he nodded. ‘OK, I suppose.’

‘Do you want to stay here with us, Torin? It’s up to you. If you’ve got a mate you’d rather stay with, or another friend of your mum’s? You can say what you want, you know.’

‘Do you not want me here, then?’

Paula could have wept for him. ‘You can stay as long as you need to. As long as it’s what you want.’

‘It’s OK here.’ He jerked his head towards Elinor. ‘She doesn’t make a fuss. And if I’m under your feet, you’ll crack on, get some answers so you get your space back, right?’

‘Fair enough.’ She tried to hide her surprise at his insight. ‘Can I have your keys?’

‘Not so fast,’ Elinor said. ‘You haven’t eaten, have you? We saved some pizza for you. So before you go over to Bev and Torin’s, you’re going to sit down and have some dinner.’

Paula didn’t even bother trying to protest. And if she was honest, as she headed back out into the night, she was glad she’d taken the time to eat. Not just because it recharged her physical batteries but because it gave a face to the task ahead. That was something she’d learned from Carol Jordan. Until then, she’d listened to the colleagues who said you couldn’t afford emotional involvement with cases because it would burn you out. Working with Carol, she’d come to understand that you deliver a better quality of justice when you care. Yes, the price was high. But why do the job if you didn’t care about the outcome?

It felt strange, letting herself into a house where she’d been a guest. Usually when she was searching premises or interrogating in someone’s space, as she had been with Tony earlier, she was coming to it fresh. Here, she’d have to put aside the embarrassment of raking through the life of someone she knew and liked. For Bev’s sake, she couldn’t put personal squeamishness ahead of scouring the house for anything useful.