Gleeson’s lawyer opened his mouth to speak but Signy cut him off. “You recently bought several items that we are curious about.” She showed him a printout of his credit card statement. “Yesterday morning it shows you bought a hunting knife and a pair of boots.”

“Wait. What?” His face screwed up as he examined the highlighted items. His lawyer tried to cut in, but Gleeson spoke over him. “That doesn’t make any sense. I didn’t buy anything yesterday.” He reared back with an incredulous expression on his face. Then his eyes widened, and he abruptly stopped talking.

After a few long moments of silence, he said quietly, “I need a break. I need to talk to my family. I need to go home.”

“Do you remember the last time you saw Debbie Abbot?”

“Debbie Abbot?” Gleeson said impatiently. “Christ, why are you going on about that woman? She left me in the lurch and acted as if I was some sort of pervert, all because she couldn’t cope with a part time job a trained monkey could do.”

Signy moved the image of a little boy being abused to the center of the table.

“I did not download that image.” Gleeson turned away and crossed his legs. His gaze dipped to the image and then he looked away again. A dull flush spread over his cheeks.

“If not you then who? Who has access to your laptop?”

Gleeson switched legs, his knee jiggling. “No one but…”

“But?” Eban questioned.

“I use the same password for most things. Who can remember different ones for every damn thing?”

“Not me,” Eban lied.

“You’re saying someone else broke into your computer and downloaded pornography onto your machine? A machine where you keep your patient records. For what purpose?” Signy pushed.

Gleeson held Eban’s stare now and the wheels were clearly turning behind his eyes. Eban held his breath, wondering if the man was about to reveal himself.

“I have no idea,” Gleeson said finally.

The spell was broken, but the guy was one hundred percent lying.

Signy turned over another image.

Gleeson reared back and then leaned in closer. “Is that…?”

“Debbie Abbot was found dead at her home today. She’s been dead for some time.”

Gleeson’s eyes widened then he straightened. “You think I killed her? You think I killed Martin Carstairs and Adele Surrey?”

“I’d advise you not to say anything else, Kim,” Gleeson’s lawyer intoned seriously.

Gleeson ignored him. “Why? Why would I do that?”

“You’re the psychotherapist. You tell me,” Eban said calmly.

Gleeson’s top lip curled. “You think I wanted to frame your girlfriend? You think I killed these people so I could blame it on poor little unstable Darby O’Roarke?”

“She’s not unstable.”

“Says who? You? You’re obviously fucking her so you’re hardly impartial.”

Eban wasn’t going to get drawn into discussing Darby. “Do you think people know if they’re in the presence of evil?”

His attorney once again tried to step in. “My client can hardly comment on—”