‘You were driven by something out of your control. Voices in your head? Like I said, keep that thought.’

‘Stop trying to save me, Joe! I’m not blaming this on anything. That would be cowardly.’

‘And you’re no coward, are you?’

‘No, I’m not. I did what I did, and I stand by it. I’ll take it to my grave and I won’t be ashamed. I did what I thought was right. My boy is still dead, and I did what I did. He’s still dead.’

She ate several spoonfuls of liquid ice cream, until there was almost none left. With each one she shuddered as she swallowed, but forced herself to smile.

‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Yes,’ he said.

‘When did you know?’

‘That it was you? When you walked out of the library. The bike was yours. You saw the police there, so you ignored it.’

‘You knew then?’

‘I didn’t want to believe it.’

She nodded.

Her movements were slow and deliberate now. The elegance of her expression was gone, replaced by a pastiness, a sudden stiffness, a sense of discomfort. Reality had finally hit.

‘Joe, I felt no compassion. I’m sorry, but I didn’t. Please know that.’

He looked at her, and felt a loathing for the world, for his job and everything it represented.

‘I understand,’ he said.

But he didn’t.

Then his bloody phone pinged.

‘I know it’s insensitive, but I have to check this.’

‘Don’t worry,’ she began, her voice trailing off.

He thumbed through the messages that had accumulated since he’d last checked fifteen minutes ago. Messages from Rita, Gwyn Merchant and Andy. Nothing new to report.

When he looked up at her, there was the slightest droop in her torso. Her eyelids began to flutter, and she struggled to keep them fully open. She was still smiling, though.

‘Don’t worry,’ she said again. ‘Justice has been done!’ Her eyes were full of fondness for him, but were not quite focusing now. ‘Go on, officer, make the arrest. You should. You should do it now.’

He studied her face, tried to assess the bare malevolence that must surely be there. But he could find none. He wanted to touch her, to… to what? He had no idea. He wanted the world to be different. And for that he felt weak, pathetic.

‘We can do that later.’

‘You’re the boss.’ Her words were slightly out of kilter. ‘It’s when the smell goes, y’know? From his clothes. You keep them all, but in the end you lose the smell of him… It fades until you don’t know whether you’re just imagining it. You can’t even remember what he smelled like, and it’s… just…’ She was struggling to keep looking at him, her eyes imploring, but fading. ‘There’s nothing left.’

Her head was moving, one way then the other.