‘Mrs Palmer. I believe his name was Turner? Detective Sergeant Turner?’

‘Someone taking my name in vain?’

I turned around to see the man himself, coming up behind me, smiling. He was still in his coat, having clearly just followed me in. He’d been really rather intimidating previously, and I was surprised by his cheery demeanour. He didn’t recognize me immediately, but when he did, his face cleared.

‘Ah, Mrs Palmer. Good news from London. No doubt you heard?’

‘Yes. Yes, I have. And that’s what I’d like to talk to you about.’ I wasn’t calm. Not calm at all, and possibly this showed. I’d meant to be very composed, but I knew my voice, my agitated mannerisms – my twisting hands, the licking lips – were somewhat giving me away.

He looked taken aback for a moment. Then his face softened. ‘I’m sorry, it must have been a shock. I can see that. To hear it on the radio. And actually we did send a police liaison officer round to break the news yesterday, but no one was in?’

‘Oh. My father wondered. He got to the door too late.’

He spread his hands apologetically.

‘Well, thank you for that. But I wonder if I might have a word anyway?’

‘Yes, of course.’ This was a different man now. He was polite, kind, mannerly. No doubt the man he was in real life, when he wasn’t questioning murder suspects. He led the way down the corridor to the same interview room, probably the only one they had. Before he went in, though, he popped his head into the coffee room where his staff were still waking up. He asked Holly to come in, please, and bring the file, if she would. The same girl as before put her cap on and came in behind us, giving me a smile. Perhaps she’d heard the news too. May even have been the one who’d popped round.

I waited until we were all seated at the table. They were relaxed and easy in their chairs. I opened my mouth. For a moment I had neither wind nor words to draw on. But then it came out.

‘I’d like to confess.’

There was a silence. Turner frowned. ‘Confess?’ He looked confused.

‘To my husband’s murder.’

Slowly they both sat forwards. They didn’t speak, they just waited. Then I saw Holly reach for a button on a machine: Turner stayed her hand.

‘You see, I killed him. Yes, Andrew Parker, the burglar, knocked him down, knocked him out, but I found him still alive when I came down. I didn’t ring the ambulance until he was dead.’