When I look from the boot to Rory, I notice that he has tears streaming down his face.

‘Hit a nerve, have we?’ chides Bob.

Rory doesn’t fight back; it looks like the will to live has left him. ‘I didn’t kill anyone,’ he mutters, the words coming out thick with emotion.

‘That where our opinions differ. I think you killed your fiancée when you found out who she was meeting at the bar. You’ve admitted to seeing the photograph of them online, and would have had plenty of time to get back from Bradford. Then, you went on a calculated killing spree, wiping out anyone connected with her and her affair.’

Rory is shaking his head vehemently, though Bob takes no notice.

‘We are combing Ed’s house now for the slightest trace of evidence to put you at the scene. I think that will do for now,’ DCI Bob says, and halts the recording. ‘Someone will be here soon to escort you back to your cell.’

I take a swig from my bottle of water and set it back on Bob’s desk. Before the interview, I was convinced of Rory’s guilt. Now, I’m not so sure. The surprise on his face when he heard his voice looked genuine, and his tears at the end seemed more out of sheer sadness for Anna than for himself and his impending incarceration.

Bob looks like the cat that got the cream; he is fully convinced of Rory’s guilt and is currently on the phone to Martin, informing him of the incoming manpower to help at Ed’s house.

He makes it very clear to the head of the forensic team that the window is closing and we need this conviction. He sets down the phone and flashes a smile.

‘I’m not sure he’s our man,’ I say and I notice Bob’s smile falters slightly.

‘I know we don’t have enough to convict him, yet, but soon we will. All the evidence is piling up against him. We just need to put him at the scene. We’re on the home stretch. You’ve done a great job on this, Erika. A fucking great job.’

His fingers pull at the hairs of his goatee and suddenly he looks awkward.

‘Look, I’ve been thinking. The toll this case is taking on you must be enormous, especially with the personal threats and the,’ he hesitates for a beat, ‘the location of Reuben’s murder. I’m giving you the weekend off to get your head straight.’

I’m about to argue that that is the last thing I need, especially at this stage of the investigation, but he ploughs on.

‘The first case back after time off is never easy, especially after what you’ve been through.’

‘Because of you,’ I snap, taking him by surprise. ‘A year ago, you valued catching that fucking drugged up prick over my safety. Sending me into that mill almost cost me my life, and that’s on you. Now, you’re worried that I am not coping after receiving a threatening text message from someone, you believe, we have in custody. So don’t give me that shit about being worried about me.’