‘I’m not impressed with the absent-minded professor act,’ Fielding said. ‘Monday. This week. Where were you?’

Now it was time to find some steel. ‘I already said. I need to check my diary.’ He pushed the chair back. ‘Are we about done here?’

‘Not quite.’ When she smiled, Fielding could look almost gentle. Nobody would have guessed, looking at her granite face then. ‘Dr Hill, when did you last see ex-DCI Carol Jordan?’

Now he’d really had enough. He wasn’t going to talk to this idiot any longer. He stood up. ‘This interview is terminated. I’m done with answering your short-sighted questions. I’ve spent years trying to instil some understanding into police officers. And this is where it ends up.’ He shook his head in disgust. ‘Find somebody else to monster, DCI Fielding. I’m not playing any more.’ He made for the door, but Fielding was ahead of him.

‘Anthony Valentine Hill, I am arresting you on suspicion of murder. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’

He took a step back, turning to Paula, his face a mask of shock. ‘Is she serious?’

‘She’s serious, Tony.’

He walked away from Fielding and sat down heavily in one of the chairs. ‘Then, no comment.’ Tony folded his arms across his chest and stared straight ahead. Inside, he was in turmoil. But on the outside, he would give nothing away.

Not until he’d figured out how to dig himself out of this hole.

42

Paula watched the duty sergeant walk Tony down to his cell. She’d processed him herself, making sure he was clear what he was entitled to. And that the duty sergeant knew she was looking out for her prisoner. ‘You should call a lawyer,’ she said.

‘You can make the call from here,’ the sergeant added, pointing to a payphone.

‘I’ll sleep on it,’ Tony said. His face was drawn and tired and he seemed to have shrunk since he’d arrived at the station.

‘I’m sorry,’ Paula said.

He nodded. ‘I know. It’s OK. We’re good.’

She desperately wanted to say more, but couldn’t risk it. This was Fielding’s nick, not hers, and she didn’t know who to trust yet. Weary and unsure of what to do for the best, she headed upstairs, pausing for a cigarette break before facing Fielding and the murder squad. Cody was leaning against the wall by the door, blowing a stream of smoke upwards. ‘Nice work,’ he said.

‘You think?’

‘It’s always good to get a collar early on. Gets the brass off your back and the media out of your face.’

‘Even if it’s the wrong collar?’