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The evening light began to fade at about the same time as the large glass of whisky started to take the edge off Jack Culverhouse’s mood. It never rains, but it pours. That was never truer than it was in the case of CID officers. There were times when he’d go weeks, months perhaps, without anything juicier than a fraud case or a gang-related assault to get his teeth into. His personal life would be just as quiet, too, with little more than the regular nine to five followed by a few episodes of Breaking Bad in the evening.
But Jack had never been a nine to five sort of person, and as much as he liked Breaking Bad, he was far happier doing the job he loved. The overtime wasn’t as ubiquitous as it used to be, however, and he often found himself having to spend far too many evenings in hi
