‘I enjoy computer games,’ Tony said. ‘Nobody gets hurt. It’s fake, DCI Fielding. Whatever the Daily Mail likes to think, the jury’s still out on any direct correlation between gaming and IRL violence.’

‘For the tape, what’s IRL?’ Paula asked.

Tony rolled his eyes. ‘In real life.’

‘Did you make any phone calls?’

‘I shouldn’t think so. You have my permission to check my records with my mobile provider though.’

‘Did anyone phone you?’

He locked his fingers behind his head and leaned back, making it obvious that he was thinking. At last he said, ‘I think that’s the Saturday when the Clinical Director of Bradfield Moor Secure Hospital phoned me but I didn’t pick up the call. I was in the middle of my game and I didn’t want to be interrupted by work on a Saturday evening.’

‘It might have been an emergency relating to one of your patients.’

Tony inclined his head. ‘Not very likely, but yes, it might have been. But I’m not the only clinical psychologist on the staff. I’m learning not to be indispensable.’

‘You’re sure that’s what you did that Saturday? You didn’t go shopping?’

‘I don’t do shopping, not in the sense of a leisure activity. I buy most of what I need online, and I buy my food at the supermarket. And I don’t go there any Saturday. I go weekdays when it’s quiet. Sometimes in the middle of the night, if I can’t sleep. I went there yesterday evening. As you know, Paula, because I phoned you up afterwards to tell you to look at the bus CCTV to see whether you could spot Bev McAndrew.’ He smiled at her, to remind her he was on her side.

‘Like I said, we’ll come to that. You didn’t go to see a movie that Saturday, did you?’

He shook his head. ‘No. I definitely didn’t do that. I can’t remember the last time I went to a cinema to see a movie. Either I stream them or I watch them on DVD. I hate the smell of cinemas. Popcorn and hot dogs.’ His face echoed his disgust.

And so it crawled onwards. On Monday evening, when Bev had been abducted, he’d been at home, working on a parole report on his laptop. ‘You can get some techie geek to check the time stamps on my computer.’

‘Time stamps can be faked,’ Fielding said dismissively.

The previous night, when Bev had been killed and dumped, he’d explained that he’d walked across town to Freshco and come home on the bus.

‘Why did you go all the way to that Freshco? There are plenty of places you could have shopped closer to home,’ Fielding asked.