Beth returned to the office at Carleton Hall to find Thompson working alone. She recounted what she’d learned from Hewson and her own thoughts then settled down at her desk ready to update the files and fill out the necessary reports.

Thompson gave her a look. ‘Sound like you’ve been busy, Young Beth.’

‘I have, Old Frank.’

As soon as the words left her mouth, Beth regretted them. Hewson’s comment about not using alcohol as a crutch still rankled her, and now she’d gone and given the irritating Thompson confirmation that he was getting under her skin.

‘I did wonder how long it would take you to get sick of that.’

When Beth looked at Thompson she saw a genuine smile.

‘I got sick of it at the age of eleven when I first heard it from a registration teacher. He thought he was funny. He wasn’t, but a lot of adolescent boys thought he was.’

‘Ouch. Did it follow you? How long did it last?’

‘Until I started to develop. It’s funny how boys stop taking the piss when you grow a pair of breasts.’

Beth looked away. She was ashamed of the vehemence to her tone. The memories of mocking boys turning into gawping teens still ate at her. Worse than that, she’d just overshared with the kind of prick who’d regurgitate her admission to anyone who’d listen.

‘That sounds like a typical boy thing.’ Thompson drummed his fingers on the desk. ‘For what it’s worth, you’re a good-looking woman. It’s no surprise teenage boys took an interest in you when you were growing up.’ He pointed at his own face. ‘Me, I had a face like a pizza and bugger all confidence. I married the one girl in the school who gave me the time of day, and now she can’t remember who I am.’

Even though she knew about his wife’s condition, Beth played dumb to protect O’Dowd. ‘What do you mean?’

‘She has early-onset Alzheimer’s.’ He turned away from Beth. ‘She’s forty-seven and no longer recognises me, or our daughters.’

Beth didn’t know what to say, so in place of saying the wrong thing she kept silent.

‘I took the girls to see her on Sunday. I agreed that it could be the last time they had to visit her. They hate going since she stopped remembering who they are.’ Thompson turned to look at her. ‘I am not sure you can ever see pain like a child saying goodbye to their mother for the last time.’

Beth shook her head and tried not to see the hurt in his eyes. ‘No. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been for you.’

‘However hard you think it was, double it. I took each of my girls in by themselves, which meant I had to see it twice. My girls are hardly eating, they’re grunting at me and they spend all their time holed up in their bedrooms with music blaring.’

‘They’re teenagers, aren’t they? That’s what they do. It’s what I did. Give them space and time. Be there if they need you and don’t expect them to understand something you can’t.’

Thompson wiped a hand over his face. ‘Shit, Beth. I’m sorry for dumping all this on you.’

‘Don’t be. I’d rather deal with this version of you than the DS Thompson who’s been nipping my head all week. For the record, I don’t know how you cope, but that’s what you’ve got to do. Keep putting one foot in front of the other. The only advice I can offer you is to try and look after yourself too. Somehow you’ve got to give yourself a break. Go for a few pints with a mate, or take your girls to the pictures, just do something that puts a smile on your face for a couple of hours.’

‘Thanks.’ He gave her a sidelong look. ‘I half-thought you were just a pretty face when I first met you. Then I saw the scar on your cheek, and I realised you were probably tougher than I’d realised – to be a copper with such an obvious target for abuse on your face. Then I saw you at work. You’re bright, you cover all the normal bases and then you come up with some great ideas. I shouldn’t have taken credit for your idea the other day though. That was wrong of me. You deserve better than that.’

‘You were a bit of a dick that day.’ Beth gave him a gentle smile. ‘Now I know why, I will try to forgive you.’

Beth found herself wondering how many more pressures were going to show in the team’s personal lives. In less than twenty-four hours she’d had both of her superiors opening their hearts to her. It was flattering that they trusted her, but also worrying that they had these distractions while investigating such brutal murders.

The fact her own temper had been frayed for her to snap at Thompson just hours after snapping at Hewson concerned her though. She’d endured enough abuse in the past to know the best defence was to ignore it and move on. Yet she’d still gone ahead and said her piece. Worse, she’d lashed out at a man she knew was in pain. She’d meant what she’d said to him though; she’d forgive him for his unnecessary snaps at her, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to forget what he’d tried to do by stealing her idea and then embellishing it with his own sexist take. Beth vowed to herself that every time he crossed the line, she’d call him on it.

But it wasn’t like her to get so wound up; she realised the stresses and horrors of the case were getting to her. With both Thompson and O’Dowd struggling with personal issues, as well as dealing with the horrors of the case, Beth knew there was more pressure than ever before on her if FMIT were going to succeed with this investigation.

It was bad enough that these heinous crimes were taking place, but the idea that the perpetrator of the killings may escape justice was something Beth couldn’t accept. She vowed to herself that she’d keep pushing forward as much as she could, because whatever happened, she wasn’t going to let any of the victims or their families down. Not when she had the memory of Angus Keane’s daughters spurring her on.