‘How much did you tell Aislinn?’

He blows out air. ‘Yeah, that wasn’t an easy one. I figured it’d be a bit of a shock to the missus and the half-sibs, Daddy’s past life turning up on their doorstep – and since the dad wasn’t around for Aislinn to talk to, it’s not like knowing the whole story would’ve got her what she wanted anyway. But I wasn’t going to just throw the poor girl back onto the street – “Off you go and keep looking for your dad, good luck with that!” She had a right to know her father was dead.’

Steve turns up his palms with a flourish: Exactly. I mime wanking. ‘So you told her.’

‘Yeah. Just that much: that the system showed him as deceased. And that I didn’t have any other info.’

‘How’d she take it?’

‘Not great.’ I can hear the grimace in Gary’s voice. ‘To be honest, she went bloody mental – which was fair enough, I suppose. She was hyperventilating, for a minute there I thought I was going to have to call an ambulance, but I had her hold her breath and she got it together again.’

‘No better man for it,’ I say.

‘Yeah, well. Sort of. She was still frantic – shaking, whimpery noises, all that. She wanted to know why no one had told her – had the lads been lying to her ma or were they really that useless, how had they missed something that I’d found in ten minutes flat . . . I told her the lads were good Ds, but sometimes an investigation hits a wall no matter how good you are, and info from other sources can take a while to make it onto the system . . .’

It’s instinct, as automatic as blinking when sand flies in your eye: a civilian accuses another cop of fucking up, you deny it. Whether she’s right is beside the point. You open your mouth and a lovely reassuring cover story comes out, smooth as butter. It’s never bothered me before – it’s not like a grovelling apology would have done Aislinn any good, or done anything at all except waste everyone’s time – but today everything feels dodgy, ready to blow up in my face at the wrong touch; nothing feels like it’s on my side.

I say, ‘Did she believe you?’

Gary makes a noncommittal noise. ‘Not sure. I just kept talking, trying to talk her down. I gave it loads about how at least now she had closure so she could move on, how she had every right to make a wonderful life for herself; and I went on about how her dad sounded like a lovely man and he’d obviously loved her a lot, and whatever had happened I was sure it had broken his heart to leave her . . . That kind of stuff. She didn’t look convinced – to be honest, I’m not sure she heard most of it – but I got her calmed down in the end.’ That voice, doing its job; he could’ve read her the duty roster and it would have done the same. ‘Once she was fit to drive, I sent her home. That’s it. See? There was nothing in there that could’ve made her think gangs.’