He smiled. ‘I can’t, I’m on call. I’ll have a sparkling water – a strong one,’ he said with a grin. ‘Anyhow, I always feel guilty when I have a drink and you can’t.’

She shook her head with a teasing smile. ‘You’re such a martyr – if it helps your guilt, after the baby is born and weaned, I’m damned well going to make up for it!’

He held her in his arms. ‘I’ll get Humphrey sorted, so stop stressing and focus back on you and bump two, OK?’

‘OK.’ She gave him a tight hug.

‘You know you can depend on me,’ he said.

She pursed her lips. ‘I actually quite like you, too. Now loosen your tie, take your jacket off, sit down, chill, and help me chill! A Detective Superintendent Grace special glass of sparkling water is on its way. Extra strong.’

He complied, untying and kicking off his shoes as well, then flopped down on the sofa opposite hers. Humphrey continued to bark. Moments later, Cleo let him in; he bounded over and jumped straight onto his lap.

Roy stroked him. ‘What’s all this about you growling at Noah?’ he asked, staring him in the eye.

Humphrey nuzzled up to him, the very picture of sweet innocence. Other than the arrival of the postman, which always set him off into a fury of barking, Roy Grace had never seen an ounce of aggression in the dog.

A few minutes later, Cleo handed him the glass and sat down beside him. ‘Just as Humphrey’s master likes it, I hope,’ she said, giving Humphrey a pat. ‘So, good day – bad day? Any update on charming Dr Crisp?’

Grace told her then added, ‘To be honest, and I really should not be saying this – or feeling it – much though I want to see this monster behind bars for the rest of his life, all the time he’s at large, I’m loving Cassian Pewe’s pain!’

‘Until Dr Crisp murders another young woman,’ she said.

Grace shook his head. ‘He’s going to be too busy saving his skin. He’ll know that every police officer in the UK has his photograph – and every Border Force officer. Any documents he has on him will either be stolen or forged. Unless he has a very clever Plan B, he’s going to be picked up within a few days.’

‘I hope you’re right.’

‘He’s in the last-chance saloon. He’s under arrest on charges that will ensure he’ll never see the outside of a prison wall again. He’s probably taken the view he has nothing to lose – but equally knows that he has little to gain. Unless he has a hidden stash of money or credit cards somewhere, he’s going to be stymied for money – without stealing it. He’s just having a laugh, a final fling, his last hurrah.’