‘Because you think I’m having an affair with her husband?’

Grace watched her face carefully. ‘Are you?’

‘What does that have to do with anything?’

‘Quite a lot really, Mrs Watkins. Eden Paternoster has been missing – according to her husband – since around 3.15 p.m. on Sunday September the first. On the evening of Thursday August the twenty-ninth, the Paternosters’ neighbours heard them arguing loudly – not an uncommon occurrence, they have informed us. According to you and your work colleagues, Mrs Paternoster never turned up for work on Friday, despite there being an important meeting that had been pre-arranged, which she was due to attend. Is that correct?’

‘It is.’

‘Is that in any way characteristic of Mrs Paternoster?’

‘No, not at all.’

‘Since Thursday there has been no activity on any of her social media platforms, despite her posting regularly, normally – at least once, daily – on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram. Nor has there been any activity on her credit cards. You are her line manager at the Mutual Occidental Insurance Company. How concerned are you that you’ve not seen her since last Thursday?’

Rebecca nodded. ‘Very. It’s completely out of character, as I just said. Eden was – sorry – is – a model employee. She’s hard-working, scrupulously punctual and brilliant at what she does. This makes no sense at all, it is totally out of character.’

Both detectives shot a glance at each other, clocking her momentary use of the past tense.

‘Do you think there is any possibility she has deliberately disappeared?’ he pressed.

‘Deliberately disappeared? Why on earth should she do that? She was up for promotion.’

‘I don’t wish to pry too much into your private life, Mrs Watkins,’ Grace said. ‘But as I’m sure you can understand, our priority is to discover what has happened to Mrs Paternoster – and as you are, from what it would seem, in some form of relationship with her husband, we are hoping you may be able to help us.’ He fell silent, waiting.

‘Of course, I’ll give you any help I can,’ Rebecca Watkins said. ‘But I really don’t know anything.’

‘So her husband, Niall, has said nothing to you about her disappearing? Nothing at all? Did he have any explanation for her not turning up to work on Friday?’

She took some moments, with Roy Grace watching her face closely all the time. ‘No,’ she said finally. ‘He was surprised when I told him.’

Polly interjected. ‘Mrs Watkins, you told us that on Sunday afternoon, at around 5.30 p.m., September the first, you took your dog for a walk up on the Dyke. Was that all you did? Did you see anyone, talk to anyone?’

She hesitated. ‘Why are you bothering to ask me? You know who I saw there.’

‘Niall Paternoster?’ Grace asked.

‘Well, it wasn’t the sodding Pope,’ she retorted insolently.

‘Did Niall say anything about him dropping off his wife at a Tesco store to buy cat litter and then not reappearing?’