Barrett knew that any statement Andrew Wade made before he had been formally charged at the station and given the opportunity to speak to a solicitor would be null and void. Not only that, but Palmer would face a disciplinary hearing for breaking the code of conduct. As far as Barrett was concerned, Andrew wasn’t worth taking the risk for.

Pleased to be stepping out of the heaving airport, Barrett led Andrew to the police car and bundled him into the back seat. ‘Make yourself comfortable,’ he said before slamming the door closed.

By the time they had managed to get off the M11 and made it back to Parkside Police Station it was nearly lunchtime.

Andrew was processed at the front desk and then thrown into a cell. Barrett and Palmer took themselves off for some well-deserved coffee and sandwiches, while they waited for the state solicitor to arrive to represent the suspect.

Once their appetites were satisfied the inspectors turned their attention back to Andrew Wade. The suspect was torn away from his cell halfway through his own lunch, which consisted of microwaved cottage pie and peas that were a strange grey colour. But despite the unappealing appearance of the food, Andrew had been hungry and would have finished the meal given the opportunity.

‘Interview commencing at 1.53pm.’ Palmer turned on the recording equipment and ran through the list of charges he had collected since their last meeting.

‘Mr Wade.’ Barrett had been flicking through a file and closed it, slamming it down on the table between them making Andrew startle. ‘You’ve been busy since we last met.’ Palmer did his best to disguise a smirk. ‘Fancy telling us why you broke your bail conditions and left the country?’

The solicitor looked at his client and nodded.

‘I was scared.’ Andrew sat back in his chair, slouching and attempting to look at ease.

‘Scared of what?’

‘I knew you pigs’d try and pin it on me.’

The solicitor gave a little cough, wishing his client had better manners.

‘And why would we do that?’ Palmer asked, ignoring the pig remark. He’d heard it plenty of times during his career and he could think of worse insults.

‘Because you don’t have a clue who did it and I’ve got form. It didn’t take a genius to work out you were looking at me. And…’ He shifted in his seat a little. ‘I wasn’t exactly honest about the last time I spoke to him.’

‘Why not?’ Palmer’s eyes narrowed.

‘Because I asked him for money and he wouldn’t give it to me.’

‘That must have upset you,’ Barrett cut in, cradling a polystyrene cup of watery coffee.

‘Not really,’ Andrew lied.

‘Your father was happy to let you sit in prison rather than hand over a few hundred pounds and you’re telling us that didn’t bother you?’ Palmer shook his head unconvinced.