No matter how Beth had tried convincing her friends, none of them seemed to believe her when she’d told them how much of her job was about painstaking research and reading statements, reports and interview logs. She was sure they imagined that she spent her days kicking down doors and slapping cuffs onto people as she told them they were ‘nicked’.

For some officers the drudge of compiling evidence to support theories was a necessary evil, but if she was honest with herself, sitting in a nice warm office with a computer in front of her was a lot better than wrestling drunks in the pouring rain.

Like every other officer who’d ever walked a beat, she’d endured abuse that was aimed more at the uniform, and what it represented, than the individual wearing it. Beth was proud of the fact she’d always managed to maintain her composure in the face of insults, but she had enough self-awareness to know that she’d been very close to snapping on several occasions.

Her brain was focussed on the spreadsheet she was compiling as she added every bit of information she could gather. For her, this was a new kind of puzzle and she revelled in the challenge. As horrific as Angus Keane’s death was, Beth knew it also presented her with an opportunity to establish her own credentials and prove to O’Dowd that she was worthy of a place in FMIT.

Regardless of how his death may end up benefitting her, Beth’s primary instinct was to make sure that Suzy and her daughters would know who’d taken their husband and father from their lives. Whether it offered them a sense of closure or not, as a police officer, it was as much as she could do for them.

Beth had no connection to Angus other than the fact she was part of the team tasked with investigating his murder, yet that didn’t stop her from getting mental pictures of his dying moments and imagining that she could hear the gargled screams as his throat and mouth burned, as the fire was drawn down his throat into his lungs. She could see that her thoughts were shared by her colleagues too. Each of them wore a haunted look, although with everything that was going on with Thompson’s wife, maybe the sense of isolation on his face wasn’t just caused by work.

How it must be for Suzy to imagine her husband’s death was something Beth couldn’t begin to comprehend. As a couple they would have laughed, joked and faced life’s hardships together. Their relationship may well have been fractious at times, but the way they kept patching things up spoke of an inherent love that neither could deny for long periods.

Suzy had gone into shock when O’Dowd had told her the gorier details. She’d sat there with a blank expression and tears pulsing down her cheeks as she’d heard without listening. It was bad enough to witness someone receiving the worst news, but when the news had to be garnished with unpalatable honesty about the way their loved one had died, it made the moment even harder.

This was a part of her job that Beth wouldn’t discuss with her friends. It had felt wrong that she’d been present at what must surely have been the worst moment of Suzy’s life, to then share that experience chatting over a cuppa or a glass of wine would remove the intimacy she’d felt. Besides, her two closest friends worked in offices and they couldn’t begin to understand the toll police-work could take. Rather than burden them with the darkness of her job, Beth took lightness from her friends.

She knew that her parents would always listen if she needed to talk something out, but so far she’d always been able to deal with things herself. Always at the back of her mind was the knowledge that her mother had episodes of depression, and she tried to take care not to give her mother any triggers. The worst bout of depression Beth ever saw her mother suffer had been in the weeks after the bottle had slammed into Beth’s face. Her mother had tried to be strong, tried to support Beth, but she’d been able to see past the façade of everyday cheerfulness and see the effort it was costing her mother.

Beth could have talked to her father in confidence, but she knew he worried about her and she didn’t want to add to his worries by opening up to him. When he’d spotted that she was preoccupied or a bit down he’d always made a polite enquiry, but he’d also always given her enough space to shrug off his concerns with a disclaiming phrase like, ‘don’t worry, it’s nothing I can’t handle’.

How O’Dowd felt about having to be the one to give voice to another person’s nightmare was something she didn’t want to think about, yet she knew that one day her turn would come, and it would be she who was staring into fearful eyes and beginning a sentence with, ‘I’m so very sorry to have to inform you.’

When that day came she would have to face it with the same strength and tenderness O’Dowd had shown to Suzy. Much as Suzy may have needed a shoulder to cry on, she didn’t need a weak copper fighting her corner. What she required was a detective who’d be described with terms like dogged, resolute and determined.

All victims and their families deserved such a detective and that’s what Beth strived to be. For the victims, their families and for herself.

O’Dowd was all the things Beth believed a good detective should be. Beth planned to watch the DI closely so she could learn from her, osmose her techniques and bear witness to all the traits that made O’Dowd’s tenure as the DI in charge of FMIT so successful.

She knew that O’Dowd would have faults and flaws like any other human, but for Beth, there were a lot of things to admire.