Hodges clipped one bracelet of his handcuffs around his own wrist, hiding the other in his palm.

‘Ready, Colin?’ Gillard said, then getting a nod of agreement drove the car slowly parallel to the pavement along which Noonan was walking, which fortunately was not blocked with parked cars. From the passenger seat, with the window down, Hodges called out to the lad. ‘Eh mate, which way to Cash Converters. Got some computer games to sell.’

The lad was immediately interested and sauntered up, to the car. ‘What you got?’ he asked. ‘You got Dead Rising?’

‘Hang on a minute,’ Hodges said, turning round to look at the back seat.

‘I’ll get it,’ said Gillard, getting out of the driver’s seat as if to open the back door.

The lad looked up, and there was a flash of recognition as he saw Gillard’s face. ‘Fucking cops!’ he bellowed, jumping backwards.

But Hodges had already slipped the second bracelet over Noonan’s wrist, which had been resting on the car window ledge. It probably only took Gillard three seconds to get around the vehicle but in that time Noonan had made a monumental and not wholly unsuccessful effort to pull an eighteen-stone detective through a small car window, rocking the entire vehicle as he braced his foot against the side. The lad had one arm and Hodges’ head out already, and was just getting into his stride punching the latter with his free fist.

Gillard knew how to make the first punch count without leaving a mark, and it went in deep and hard to the youth’s midriff. Noonan folded like an unwanted deckchair, gasping for breath. The most time-consuming element of the whole arrest turned out to be untangling the two men, both struggling but connected by their awkwardly-bent arms through the window of a, now open, car door. Housewives in housecoats and slippers appeared on the doorsteps to watch this noisy Laurel and Hardy caper. It was only when Gillard knelt on the lad’s back and handcuffed his other arm that Noonan ceased to struggle for long enough for Hodges to unlock his own wrist with the fiddly keys.

On the way back to Mount Browne, Gillard sat in the back with their prisoner, while Hodges drove, complaining ceaselessly about the bruises he had incurred on his face and arm from having it pulled against the car door frame time and again.

Noonan was left to stew for a few hours in the cells, and then Hodges came for him with Hoskins in tow. Faced with the electronic download evidence, he confessed in short order, but showed his true criminal proclivity by steadfastly refusing to identify the other hooligan who had mugged Mrs McQueen. Noonan had a fair bit of previous, some of it involving violence.

‘You’re going down for a while, sonny,’ Hodges said. ‘GBH and racially aggravated assault, assaulting a police officer, theft and a few other things probably. We’ll hit you with everything we can.’

Gillard, meanwhile, slogged his way back to the incident room.