‘I’m done. They’re screening the game at the Hammer and Tongs so I’m going to head over there. See if I can catch the end and then eat something unhealthy.’ He gave her a slightly ironic look. ‘Your perfect evening.’

Hanson laughed. She had admitted to Jason early on that the Hammer and Tongs was her least favourite pub. It was devoted to sports Hanson had no interest in, had a generally sticky floor, and served only one type of cheap gin alongside the countless lagers. But Jason was a huge rugby fan, and part of a group of detectives and uniforms who used it as their local. They went there three or four days of the week and often watched obscure matches streamed off a PC. Hanson had dutifully gone along with Jason a few times, but avoided it when she could.

‘Thanks,’ she told him. ‘I’ll be here a while, and then I might find myself just too tired for such a fantastic event. You can come to mine afterwards if you like, though. I may have beer.’

‘I’ll see how I go,’ he said, throwing his car keys up and catching them. ‘Don’t work too hard.’

Jonah ducked back into Interview Room 1, where Louise and her solicitor were still waiting. Louise was gazing at nothing, her whole pose defeated. Patrick Moorcroft rose from his chair the moment Jonah was inside the room.

‘I need to get back home to my family,’ the solicitor said. ‘I assume there’s nothing more for me this evening.’

‘No,’ Jonah agreed. ‘We’ll continue tomorrow.’

The solicitor collected up his coat and briefcase, and spoke to his client quietly. ‘I’ll check in tomorrow morning. I’ll work out what time I need to be here.’ Louise nodded without looking at him. Patrick glanced at Jonah. ‘I assume you’re pushing for a magistrates’ court hearing.’

‘Yes. We should know by mid-morning.’

‘We’ll discuss that tomorrow,’ Patrick told Louise, looking at her with an expression that might have been slight concern. ‘You’ll be here for the night, but it should be relatively comfortable.’

Louise nodded again, and then looked up at Jonah. ‘Has Niall gone?’

‘Yes,’ Jonah said, quietly. ‘I’m afraid he wasn’t feeling equal to seeing you.’

Louise’s mouth twisted, and she looked down at her hands. ‘Poor Niall.’

‘There’s a constable on the way to take you to a cell. She’ll get you sorted with some food, too.’ Faced with her desolate expression, he added, ‘They aren’t bad, the cells. They have TVs, and the beds are OK.’