‘I can prove I was at home,’ he said. Palmer looked at Barrett and raised an eyebrow. ‘My car …’ he tripped over his words, ‘it was damaged. A fire engine ran into it. They tracked me down to my home using the registration number. I think one of them was called Steve. He and his colleague knocked on my door to let me know what had happened and to apologise. They were on a call and it was a mistake. The road was narrower than they realised, and they were obviously travelling at speed. I told them not to worry but they insisted on taking all my details and said that their insurance would cover it.’ Gerald’s broad smile was triumphant. ‘There,’ he said.

‘What time was that?’

‘I don’t know when they hit my car, but the knock on the door was around nine-thirty.’

‘What make is your car?’

‘It’s a Renault Clio. Forest green colour.’

‘Right. Well we will check your story.’ Barrett looked slightly irritated. There was something about this man that he didn’t like or trust. One minute he was playing the distraught widower, the next he was acting smug. ‘Moving on. Can you think of anyone who might want to harm your wife? Did she have any enemies?’

Gerald looked down at his grubby fingernails and thought for a moment.

‘No. Not that I’m aware of.’ His response was too aloof for Barrett’s liking. ‘Perhaps I will have that tea after all.’

Barrett nodded at Palmer who got up and left the room.

‘What was your last conversation with your wife about?’

Gerald swallowed hard and shifted in his seat again.

‘Well, we …’ his eyes refused to meet the detective’s, ‘we had a bit of an argument.’

‘I see.’ Barrett’s bright blue eyes sparkled. He loved the hunt. ‘Can you tell me why you were arguing?’

‘Oh, it wasn’t very serious. She was just cross that I had spent the day in the garden and not with her. But in this weather, you have to take extra special care of the plants. Despite the heat, I spent a lot of the day in the greenhouse tending to my tomatoes and things.’

‘I see.’ Barrett didn’t believe Gerald’s story.

‘The last thing she said to me was that I was a waste of space.’ His face fell, and he appeared more dejected than any other man Barrett had ever come across. He found himself suddenly pitying his suspect.