But tonight he was finding his team’s company genuinely helpful. The lack of resolution to their case had made him dissatisfied. He couldn’t quite let go of it all. Something in him didn’t really want to believe that Alex Plaskitt had been so twisted, and he’d found himself picking over it all with a feeling of depression.

The moral grey area over Louise Reakes’s actions had also left a sour taste in his mouth. He supposed it was in his nature to look for certainties and endings. To keep pushing until an investigation felt rounded off. Closed. Finished. And yet, as he well knew, life was rarely like that. There wasn’t always a definite conclusion about who the bad guy was. And when there was a bad guy, there was usually a reason. Like Alex Plaskitt’s awful parents, or Louise Reakes getting drunk because of a faithless husband, and then lashing out as she was attacked.

The great thing about his team was that they understood. They got that he might feel a little melancholy right now, even though it seemed like time to celebrate. Their expressions were full of that same feeling, and it soothed him.

But at quarter to nine his phone buzzed with another text from his ex-wife.

Did you get my text last Saturday? I really need to talk to you. Can you ring me, please?

He felt strangely depressed reading it. He really didn’t know what to do. Ignoring Michelle felt like unnecessary cruelty, even if she was angling for nothing more than an ego boost. But talking to her felt like a betrayal of Jojo. And, worse still, it reminded him uncomfortably of how badly he’d slipped when he’d seen his ex four months before. Of how stupid he’d been to sleep with her.

He looked at it for a minute and then put his phone away. He’d call her tomorrow. Tonight, he needed to see his girlfriend.

Hanson watched the DCI go, thinking it a shame that he couldn’t stay out and be one of them.

‘It must be lonely,’ she said to O’Malley, ‘being the chief.’

‘Ah, you’d think so,’ O’Malley agreed, ‘but don’t feel too sorry for him. He has a burning-hot girlfriend and a house that’s three times the size of yours.’ O’Malley leaned forwards. ‘And a proper pension, too.’

‘OK, fair point,’ Hanson agreed, picking up her beer. ‘He’s clearly an arsehole. Who’s getting the next one?’

Louise had actually made it to a club again, one that looked not unlike Blue Underground. She wasn’t blind drunk, and she was almost having a good time. The ‘almost’ part of it was less to do with anxiety, as she’d expected, and more to do with the fact that drunk people turned out to be incredibly annoying.