‘Jesus Christ.’ Michael immediately saw the inappropriateness of the expression. He moved on. ‘Did you tell Sarah any of this when you spoke to her?’

‘I didn’t know any of this when I spoke to her,’ Reid replied.

That makes sense, Michael thought. Explains why she didn’t say anything.

Michael moved the conversation forward.

‘Do the police have any suspects? Anything at all?’

‘Doesn’t look like it. Russell said that Levy seemed capable. That she seemed driven. But I get the impression that they’ve got nothing.’

‘I know Levy.’ Michael jumped at the chance to say something positive. Anything that could give Reid hope. ‘Joelle Levy. She’s been involved in a couple of my cases in the last few years.’

‘I’ve heard of her,’ Reid said. ‘But I’ve never come across her. I hear she’s good. Is she?’

‘She’s excellent, Derek. Exactly who you want on a case like this.’

‘Maybe a little young?’

‘She’s probably about the same age as me, give or take a couple of years,’ Michael replied. ‘But she’s got an old head and she’s got fire in her gut.’

‘That description sounds like a Michael Devlin girl.’ Reid smiled for the first time since Michael’s arrival. It was a welcome sight. ‘Anything you want to tell me about her?’

‘There’s nothing I want to tell you! Ever!!’

Michael and Reid were laughing before Michael’s answer was finished. For Michael it was mostly a laugh of relief, relief that – for all of the tragedy of the last twenty-four hours – his friend was still capable of the act.

The two men continued to chuckle, until a comfortable silence fell between them. A silence that can only exist in a true and confident friendship.

They worked their way through the food that remained on the board, with Reid eating at least twice as much as Michael. Only when the food was done did they speak again.

‘You didn’t answer my question.’ Michael picked up his wine glass, sat back into the comfortable armchair and looked Reid in the eye. ‘How are you?’

‘I’ve been better.’ Reid’s answer was as matter-of-fact as Michael would expect. Close friends do not need to dress up the truth. ‘Hearing that Phillip had been murdered was bad enough. But finding out what had been done to him? I almost didn’t get through that, Mike.’

Michael nodded his understanding but said nothing.

‘If I hadn’t been with Russell . . . if I hadn’t needed to hold him together. It was the only thing that got me through.’

Once again, Reid’s eyes filled with tears as he spoke. Michael instinctively reached out and placed a hand on his friend’s right knee. He squeezed it reassuringly.

‘I know exactly how you feel, mate,’ Michael said, knowing that Reid was one of the few people aware of his own past. ‘I know how empty you are. How you feel you won’t make it with this hole right in the centre of yourself. But you will. It’ll be hard as hell, but you will.’