Breslin is so deep into this version of his bad self that he brings it sweeping into the room with him, and it carries you right along. Steve’s first few weeks in Murder, he watched Breslin the way a twelve-year-old with a crush watches the captain of the rugby team, drooling for a smile and a pat on the shoulder. I nearly bit my tongue in half not slagging the pathetic little bollix, but I managed because I knew it would wear off. I could practically have marked the day on the calendar. When I started on the squad, I spent a while praying Breslin and McCann would have a row so I could end up partnered with Breslin, on the fast track to glory. It wore off.

Sure enough, three weeks into Steve’s boy-crush, a guy in Vice ate his gun, and Breslin – in the middle of the squad room, surrounded by people who’d known the dead guy, worked with him, gone drinking with him – pushed back his chair, balanced a pen between his fingers and enlightened us with a deep and meaningful lecture about how the guy would still have been with us if he’d quit the smokes, got more exercise and put in the time to build up real friendships at work. The smarter guys on the squad kept working; the dumb ones nodded along, mouths hanging open at the genius unfolding in front of them. Poor Stevie looked like he’d just found out about Santy.

Once you realise Breslin is an idiot, you start counting the clichés on their way out of his mouth and noticing that the slick hair is organised over a balding spot, and somewhere in there you realise that he’s actually only around five foot ten and his solve rate is nothing special and you start wondering if he wears a girdle. None of that matters – the dazzle does its job on witnesses and suspects, and Breslin’s moved on long before it can wear off – but it left me pissed off with myself for being suckered, which left me pissed off with Breslin and everything about him.

‘Howya,’ I say. ‘Shame we didn’t manage to talk along the way. Reception’s a bastard.’

Breslin hasn’t moved from the doorway. ‘Sounds like you need a new phone, Detective Conway. But let’s move past that. We’re all here now.’

‘We are, yeah,’ I say. ‘You got a look around the scene?’

‘Yeah. Ten-a-penny lovers’ tiff. Let’s see how fast we can clear it and get back to the good stuff, shall we?’

‘That’s the plan,’ Steve says easily, before I can open my mouth. ‘Thanks for joining us. We appreciate it.’

‘No problem.’ Breslin gives Steve a gracious nod. ‘We’re in Incident Room C.’