‘A smear campaign. Or whatever it is you claim Mr Delaney is doing.’ He crossed his arms. ‘We’ll run down this Bramley account on Facebook anyway, that should tell us one way or another.’

‘Why would I post something that would get me in trouble at work? With handcuffs Photoshopped onto a picture so it looks like I got arrested?’

‘I don’t know, Joe. Why would you do that?’

‘You must be able to see that Ben is behind this, surely? The spurned lover? He’s trying to break me down, get me out of the picture so he can have Mel for himself. He has to win, at everything, that’s just who he is. Whatever the cost.’ I leaned forward, fists on the table. ‘He’s trying to destroy my family.’

Larssen put a hand on my arm.

‘Calm down, Joe.’

Naylor sat back in his chair.

‘My problem with all of this, Joe, is that you’re the only one who’s allegedly seen Mr Delaney. Corresponded with him. Spoken to him.’

‘Mel was there too when we spoke to him. She can back that up.’

‘OK, we’ll talk to your wife again. But it’s all coming through you, Joe. Do you see? Everything seems to revolve around you. Why is that?’

‘Because Ben is a very clever guy. Smarter than me. Smarter than most.’

‘That may well be true. But the proof-of-life investigation has come back with absolutely zero for the last twenty-four hours, and unless that changes soon and we get a sniff that he’s safe and well, we’ll have to start working on the basis that he might not be.’

‘Proof? What about Beth Delaney? She was there when her husband came home on Thursday night, hours after I supposedly beat him up in that hotel car park.’

Naylor shook his head.

‘She didn’t see him. She heard someone moving about in her house. Through a closed door, a floor below her. She heard someone.’

‘What about the texts he sent me? The post on Facebook? The meeting at the country park? Surely that’s all proof?’

Naylor looked from me to DS Redford by his side, and back to me again.

‘I wasn’t planning on doing this just yet, but since you’re here, we might as well.’ He opened a black A4 ring binder in front of him on the table and flipped a few sheets until he found what he was looking for.

‘So you have found something?’ I said.

‘Yes and no.’

‘What does that mean?’

Larssen shifted uncomfortably in his seat next to me.

‘My client would certainly appreciate it if you can give us a heads-up, Marcus.’

‘Sure, OK. So: the texts first. We pulled the records from your network provider and from Ben’s. You received three texts from Ben Delaney’s mobile phone on Sunday evening, two on Monday morning. Correct?’