Jonah’s working of Niall Reakes began the moment he walked through the door of CID. Assuming a mantle of full-blown officialness, he dispensed with any conversation at all as he took the drugs rep quickly and angrily through to the interview suite. O’Malley was already waiting for them by the door, and Jonah almost felt tempted to laugh at the pitying expression his sergeant gave their suspect.

If Niall had looked anxious on arrival, he was actually shaking by the time Jonah introduced them all for the tape. Jonah gave him nothing but a piercing stare once the introductions were done, and Niall caved within seconds.

‘I need to tell you something,’ he said, putting a hand out to the table as if to steady himself. ‘It isn’t – it’s got nothing to do with the death of that guy, but I know you’re going to think it does.’

‘Would this be about your whereabouts on Friday night?’ Jonah asked, whip-sharp.

‘Yeah.’ Niall swallowed. ‘Yeah, it is. I flew home early from the conference. I told Jessie, my assistant, that my wife was really ill, and she said she’d cover the final night and morning.’

Niall’s accent seemed to have slid a whole step less middle class, making it clear that he spent much of his life acting. Trying to be more than he was. It elicited a surge of sympathy in Jonah.

‘And yet you didn’t go to look after your wife,’ he said.

‘No. I lied.’ There was an ugly-looking sheen to his face, and Jonah focused on that instead of his sympathy. On how distasteful this man was. It made it easier to go on the attack in the short window they had before Niall requested a solicitor. ‘I flew back to meet up with my ex-wife.’

Jonah glanced over at Lightman, and said, ‘I find that difficult to believe.’

‘It’s – true.’ Niall looked desperate. Sick-looking. ‘It isn’t the first time, and Dina can back me up.’

‘You’re telling us you were having an affair?’

‘Not even an affair,’ Niall said, clasping his hands together. They were trembling uncontrollably. ‘Though I – she’s been pushing for one.’

Jonah gave a short laugh. ‘You’re asking us to believe that you lied to your employers and your wife, and then spent a great deal of money flying home early to meet up with your ex-wife, all purely for a platonic chat?’

‘She’s getting me a job,’ he said, just before Jonah had finished. ‘A VP role at Glaxo. A friend of hers there is on the board. She told me about it back in June and I – I really wanted it. It’s where I’ve wanted to work forever.’

‘Why not simply tell your wife about it?’ O’Malley asked. ‘If a perfect job was being offered.’