Guilty people would suggest the minimum sentence. Innocent people tended to get more graphic with their suggestions generally starting with castration.

“They need therapy.” And then they had the psychologists.

Eban refrained from rolling his eyes. He knew the guy had helped people, Darby included. It didn’t preclude him from being a villain. Time to throw the guy off his game.

“So, someone planted the pornography that will not only get you arrested but will also mean you lose your license to practice?” Eban said dryly, still mirroring the man’s pose. “How convenient.”

“Hardly.” Gleeson shot him a scowl.

“Who do you think would do that?” asked Signy.

“I don’t know,” Gleeson gritted out. “I—” he cut himself off abruptly. Shook his head and hung it for a few moments.

Signy carried on the way they’d outlined earlier. If this was their guy he’d relax more when questioned by a woman. If he was the killer, he already believed himself vastly superior to the cops and probably godlike compared to a woman.

“Where were you on Tuesday night?”

“You know where I was. I attended the ceilidh dance with my family.”

“You left around 10 PM. What did you do after that?” Signy kept her tone calm and questioning. Requesting information, not interrogating the guy.

Gleeson rubbed the back of his neck. “I went home. Did a little work in my office.”

“Where was your wife at this time?”

“She went to bed.”

“And your kids?”

“They went to bed too. They had school the next morning.”

“So you were in your office alone?”

Gleeson nodded.

“No one saw you in your office working?”

Gleeson looked uncertain now. “No. Everyone was asleep.”

“What time did you go to bed?”

“About two.”

“And no one saw you from the time your family went up to bed until two?”

“Correct.”

She left it there rather than push it. Gleeson had admitted he had no alibi for the time Martin Carstairs was murdered.

“What about Wednesday evening? What did you do on Wednesday evening?”

“Worked at home.” He rolled his eyes at himself. “It’s a busy time of year.”

“Can anyone corroborate?”

Gleeson shook his head. “The kids were in their rooms doing homework or playing video games. Melanie, my wife, had arranged to do some volunteer work down at the homeless shelter. She thought about not going because of what had happened to Martin, but I told her to go. I told her she’d be safe.”

“I’m sorry. You told her it would be safe?” Eban said quietly.

Gleeson frowned. “I assumed it would be. It’s a busy place.”

“A man was brutally knifed to death in the city the previous evening and you weren’t even a little bit worried about your wife’s safety?” Eban probed.

“I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly. I assumed Martin’s death was a one off.”

“I would have thought you’d show more concern for your wife’s wellbeing. You said you love her.”

“I-I do—”

“Or perhaps you knew she’d be safe because you could guarantee the killer wouldn’t attack her?”