Grace stared at him, levelly. ‘You really are certain you’re telling the truth?’

Niall Paternoster stood up suddenly, his eyes blazing now. ‘This is outrageous,’ he said with real fury. ‘You come into my house and accuse me of lying? I took my wife to the store to get cat litter. She got out of the car, headed off and then just literally vanished. I’m sick with worry, I don’t know what’s happened. You don’t believe me, do you? You think I’m lying, don’t you?’

‘We’re not saying that, sir,’ Grace replied calmly. ‘I asked you a question. You’re telling us your wife has disappeared, but there is no evidence she was ever at the place you said.’

‘Meaning what, exactly?’

‘Meaning that we, as the police, have a duty of care.’

Niall Paternoster glared at him in silence for some moments. ‘I don’t think I should say anything more without my solicitor present.’ He twisted his hands together; a sign of anxiety, Grace recognized.

‘You are not under caution or arrest, Mr Paternoster,’ he said. ‘We are simply here to have a chat with you to see if we can help find your wife.’

‘Do I look stupid or something?’ Paternoster replied. ‘I phoned the police because I’m concerned about my wife going missing, and I get a Detective Superintendent and Detective Inspector from Major Crime arriving at my front door. I didn’t ride into town on the back of a truck – I can tell I’m under suspicion. I’m sorry, gentlemen, I’m not saying anything more without a solicitor.’

Grace stood up and, unprompted, Branson did the same. He pulled out his card and put it down on the table. ‘My numbers are on that – I’d be grateful if you would either call the landline or my mobile if you hear anything from your wife.’

Niall Paternoster glared at him again.

Nodding at the man’s phone on the sofa, beside him, Grace asked, ‘Do you like your iPhone?’

‘What’s it to you?’

‘I’m thinking of upgrading to one, as my private phone. I’m told the camera is great. But I’ve heard that some phone providers work better on it than others.’

‘Eden has one too,’ he responded warily.

‘And you have no reception issues?’ Grace asked, all friendly now.

He shook his head. ‘Not on O2, no.’

‘Could you let me have your wife’s number, please?’

‘I thought you coppers would already have all that important stuff.’ He looked momentarily flustered. ‘It’s – erm – 07771 . . .’ He hesitated and grinned inanely. ‘You know, I can’t bloody remember it – I have her in my contacts and never actually dial the number itself.’

Grace nodded sympathetically. ‘I’m the same – not sure I know my wife’s number either.’

The man studied his phone for some moments, pressing keys, then, looking at the display, read out the number, which Grace noted on his tablet.

They walked to the front door. As they reached it, Grace turned to him. ‘If you could also let me have your number, I’ll call you if we have any information about your wife.’