‘I don’t know. I didn’t put it there, I have no idea.’

Norman Potting took over. ‘Niall, when we interviewed you earlier, you told us you had a nice evening last Thursday, you and Eden having a barbecue at home. You mentioned having a minor disagreement over smoking meat, but no more than that, correct?’

‘Yes.’

‘Officers have spoken to your neighbours. Your next-door neighbour told us something different. She said she heard raised voices, a violent-sounding argument and what seemed to be some sort of blow delivered. She was so concerned she thought about ringing the police.’

‘That’s rubbish,’ he replied angrily. ‘I told you we had an argument but it’s nothing like she’s describing.’

‘Why would she make it up?’ Potting asked.

‘She’s a nosy old bat and she doesn’t like me for some reason. Probably wants to get me into trouble.’

‘Other neighbours have corroborated what she said. They heard the row, too,’ Potting said calmly. ‘Can you explain that?’

Paternoster looked at Rattigan, who gave him a signal. He turned back to the detectives. ‘No comment.’

Potting continued. ‘When you gave your account about what the two of you did last week you told us your wife had gone to work on Friday. We’ve checked with her company and they tell us she never turned up and it surprised them as she missed an important meeting. Can you explain that?’

Paternoster’s brow furrowed. ‘What? This is complete nonsense, she went to work and then came home, she’d have told me if she hadn’t gone into work – and no way would she have missed an important meeting – she’s very conscientious.’

Norman Potting paused for a moment. ‘Niall, could you tell us again about your journey home from visiting Parham House, last Sunday afternoon, the first of September. You made a stop on your way?’

‘Yes,’ he replied sullenly. ‘As I’ve told you and your colleagues repeatedly, I stopped at the Tesco Holmbush superstore at approximately 3.15 p.m.’

‘What was the reason for that?’ Potting asked disingenuously.

‘God, how many times do I have to repeat this? People talk about wasting police time, what about you wasting our time?’

Rattigan looked at his client with a nonplussed expression.

‘Please could you answer my question,’ Potting persisted.

‘I – we – stopped at the store because my wife needed to buy a sack of cat litter.’

‘Why did she want to buy a sack of cat litter?’

‘Because we’d run out of the stuff – I’d forgotten to buy some the day before.’

‘You’d run out of cat litter?’ Potting asked.

‘Yes,’ he replied tetchily. ‘Is there some part of that you don’t understand?’

Potting did not respond for some moments, while he made a note, then he looked back at him. ‘I’d like to ask you a question about your wife, Niall. Is she good at running your house?’

‘What does that have to do with anything?’ his solicitor jumped in.

‘If you’ll allow me to continue,’ Potting said, with consummate politeness, ‘I think it will become clear.’ He turned to Paternoster. ‘If I could repeat my question, was your wife good at running your house – your home, Niall?’