‘The thing is,’ Clarke pushed on, focusing her attention on Haggard, ‘Francis is saying PTSD is to blame. In other words, the job. So I’m wondering if you think there could be any truth in it. Did his behaviour change down the years? Did he ever try to explain his fits of violence?’

‘He was always a bastard,’ Pelham said, but her sister was shaking her head.

‘He definitely got worse over time. And PTSD – I remember him googling it. It was in his search history on the computer.’ She narrowed her eyes to help her think. ‘But that was after.’

‘After what?’

‘After the neighbours got the police to come. Not this time, but the time before, when they just talked to him and left.’

‘You should have ditched him that same bloody night, Cheryl.’ Pelham turned to Clarke, her eyes drilling into her. ‘I told her to, but she wanted to give him another chance. How many chances does a wanker like that deserve?’

‘Trust me, I’m on your side.’ Clarke turned her attention back to Haggard. ‘He became more abusive as the years passed, Cheryl? Just so we’re clear?’

‘It was words at first. He might not even raise his voice. I couldn’t cook a proper meal, keep the flat clean. I didn’t deserve him, he gave me everything. My clothes were never right, I was an embar­rass­ment when we went out.’ She paused. ‘I had friends of my own, but he didn’t like them, so they had to go.’

‘Control,’ Gina Hendry agreed, nodding.

‘He couldn’t push me away, though,’ Pelham said. ‘Eventually he stopped trying.’ She touched her glass against her sister’s.

‘The first time he hit me,’ Haggard said, lost in remembrance, ‘was after a big dinner, some annual police thing. Black tie. He was given a bravery award for stopping a guy jumping off North Bridge. I hadn’t been pleased enough. Hadn’t smiled or clapped … He was halfway through getting undressed in the bedroom. He walked up to me and slapped me hard across the face. I spent the rest of the night locked in the bathroom. He bought flowers the next day. I think he might even have cried.’

‘Like any crocodile,’ Pelham said.

‘How long ago was this?’ Clarke asked.

‘Maybe four years back.’ Haggard was looking at her. ‘He was already a cop when I met him, so I don’t know what he was like before. When we started dating, he seemed nice. We fell in love …’ Tears were beginning to trickle down her cheeks. Her sister gave her wrist another squeeze before rising to her feet.