‘I’m sorry. I should have trusted you.’ I made my voice soothing, as if I was talking to one of the dogs. ‘Tell me what happened. I know you took Sam to Anna’s that night. I know you weren’t at yours the whole time, like you said. You went there about what, half four?’

He swung around, his face full of contempt.

‘Well, look at Nancy Drew here. I did go to hers, yes. Mine, really, though she seemed to think she could keep the farmhouse, along with Sam and all my money. A last-minute job came up, so I had to leave him there. It would just have been a few hours, but she was so bloody unreasonable. She was having her toy boy round to fuck her, I guess, and I scuppered her plans. After all the fuss she made about me seeing you! Bloody hypocrite. When I got back, I’d have taken Sam to mine and left her in peace, but no, she couldn’t let it go. Wanted to have it out, there and then. She wanted to use you to swing her divorce case.’

‘Me?’

‘If I’m dating a murderer, how can she trust her precious son around me? So she gets full custody of Sam and she keeps the house, my family home! It was too much, Casey!’

Spittle flew from his lips and I wondered how this could possibly be the same man I’d fallen so in love with, weak at the knees from his touch.

‘So you and Anna, what, you had a fight?’

He ran his hands through his hair. ‘She was off her head. Threatening to expose you if I didn’t agree to her terms. I got so mad. Trying to clean me out! Take away my son! My house! Why are all women like that?’

It was as if I’d always known. ‘You killed her.’

‘She did it to herself!’ he snapped. ‘Shouting and throwing things. Took me ages to clean it all up. Sam woke up, but I sent him back to bed, told him it was just a dream. I just – saw red. Grabbed her and . . . I let go – she fell over. Hit her head on the fireplace.’

That explained Anna’s head wound. ‘She was still alive then?’

‘She was breathing, but . . . she wasn’t conscious. I couldn’t risk it – not with my record. I’d have lost everything. I just – finished it.’

I nodded, trying to stay calm. ‘You used a different knife, though? Not mine, it wasn’t her blood.’

He jerked away, as if he didn’t want to face the truth. ‘I just – I panicked, all right. I had to keep her quiet.’

‘And then you decided to frame me.’

He didn’t answer.

‘How did you get my scarf?’

He almost smiled. ‘I knew where your key was, remember. From when I did the tree.’

‘And my knife – that was later?’