‘Thanks, it is feeling right.’

‘Why don’t you go now and deal with it – that’s far more important than what’s going on here, I can handle this.’

‘I will, but another fifteen or twenty minutes isn’t going to make a difference. So let’s just review the footage from last night, OK?’ He spoke firmly, as if he’d now made up his mind and his decision had freed him.

‘OK.’

‘Norman and Jon did a good job, but—’ He hesitated.

After some moments, Branson prompted, ‘But?’

‘Let’s look at it now.’

Branson pressed the control buttons and the interview from the evening before began to replay. Both of them watched it, Grace particularly intently. Suddenly, he called out, ‘Stop!’

Obediently, the DI hit the pause button.

‘Replay that and watch Paternoster’s reaction,’ Grace said.

Moments later, the segment played again.

Norman Potting was speaking. ‘During the search of your house last night, two large sacks of cat litter were found at the rear of a cupboard, in the utility room off your kitchen. Do you have any explanation for that?’

Niall Paternoster stared back in silence for some seconds, then he said, ‘I’m sorry, I don’t believe you.’

‘Pause it again!’ Grace said.

The image froze.

‘He’s either a damned good actor,’ Grace said, ‘or he’s telling the truth.’

‘And we know he’s not telling the truth.’

Grace looked pensive. ‘Roll it on.’

Norman Potting was speaking again. ‘Do you have any explanation for how they got there, or are you saying the police planted two sacks of cat litter in your house?’

Paternoster looked at his solicitor, then up at the ceiling and around at the walls. ‘Two sacks of litter?’

‘Correct,’ Potting said. ‘Two large sacks of Tesco Lightweight ten-litre cat litter – several weeks’ supply for a normal household cat.’

Paternoster ran his hands through his hair. Then he said, ‘All I can think of is that Eden must have bought the stuff in Tesco after I dropped her off, and someone she met in the store drove her home.’

‘Pause it again,’ Grace said.

Branson hit the button, freezing the image again, and looked at Grace, then at the screen.

‘He’s holding eye contact,’ Grace said. ‘His blink rate is steady; he’s not covering his mouth or throat.’ He shrugged. ‘None of these things is conclusive, he could just be a bloody good actor. If he had been planning to murder her for some while, he might have looked up on the internet all the signs of a liar, knowing that when the police interviewed him, they’d be looking at his body language.’

‘So you’re saying he’s either innocent – or smarter than we’re giving him credit for, boss?’

‘Bearing in mind his business partner vanished overboard while they were sailing off Perth in Western Australia, do we have a repeat pattern here?’

‘Want me to fly out to Perth to talk to the police there?’

‘Sure, ask Cassian Pewe to sanction your ticket. Tell him you need to fly Business or maybe even First so you’re fresh when you arrive.’