They exchanged half-smiles in mutual acknowledgement of the adrenalin rush it always felt so wrong to enjoy when something so horrific had happened.
I remember walking into the office when I was a new detective, and hearing there had been a murder overnight. ‘Brilliant!’ I said, then flushed instantly when I heard myself. Of course I didn’t mean: ‘How brilliant that someone’s been murdered’. I was buzzing because this was what we were all there for, what we’d been trained for. It’s a peculiar kind of excitement to feel, but perfectly understandable, don’t you think?
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When I was in the police (back in the 80s) we were working on a particularly nasty case of historic sex abuse of young boys by a couple of local men.
It was all going rather slowly, …