They drove in silence for the best part of the journey back to Dublin. The inspector felt a dull thumping behind his temples, the length and stuffiness of the day bringing on a headache.

‘Fancy a quick one in your local before finishing up?’ Ray suggested, mindreading. ‘I can stroll back through the park to get my car from headquarters.’

The dashboard clock said 8:00 p.m.

‘Go on, then,’ the inspector nodded, his arm twisted.

They parked at Tom’s house and walked up to the Hole in the Wall, a long, narrow pub that nestled against the outer wall of Phoenix Park. The owner had set up an outdoor seating area so his customers could enjoy the balmy evening. Tom and Ray opted for indoors, where it was cooler and quieter.

‘What are you having?’ Ray asked, as the inspector slipped into a recently vacated oak-panelled snug.

‘Get me one of their craft beers. Surprise me.’

His deputy returned with two tall glasses and packets of scampi fries and nuts.

‘What am I drinking?’ Tom asked, taking a sip from the cool, refreshing ale.

‘8 Degrees Howling Gale ale. Mine’s a Galway Hooker. I think my subconscious is trying to tell me something about my single state.’

They sat in companionable silence and let the stress of the day seep away.

‘Any progress on the Laura front?’ the inspector pried, as Ray shredded his beer mat.

‘None whatsoever. I don’t get it,’ he said, and took a swig of his drink. ‘She was into me for years, apparently, but she doesn’t seem to have any time for me nowadays. What am I doing wrong?’

Tom shrugged. Relationship advice wasn’t his forte. He thought of what Louise had said.

‘Have you told her you like her? Straight out?’

Ray snorted.

‘What? Like we’re teenagers down the back of the disco? “I like you, Laura. Do you like me?”’

‘Fair enough,’ Tom conceded. ‘Well, have you asked her out on a date? I don’t mean popping along to the pub with everybody else after work.’

‘Yeah, I mean, sort of. Actually, no. Not on our own. I don’t want to be in her face. She seems sort of angry with me. Like I’m the reason she’s single – yet she’s not giving me any signals at all.’

‘Ah, Ray.’ Tom shook his head. ‘You really are a muppet!’

‘Here, Grandad. It’s the twenty-first century. She could ask me out if she wanted.’

‘That might be something women feel they can do, but it doesn’t mean they all want to. No wonder she’s annoyed at you. She dumps her boyfriend and goes back to waiting for you and you do nothing. Don’t you think if she were the sort to take the initiative, she’d have done it long before now? I don’t know. How do you manage to get yourself dressed and out the door in the morning?’