‘Well…’ Andrew scratched the back of his head and then chewed his fingernails. ‘I wasn’t thrilled, but it’s his money.’

‘A witness has confirmed they were present when your father received the call from Peterborough police station on November the sixth. This witness has told us that your father was extremely upset and described his mood as “irate”.’

‘He was irate?’ Andrew spat, a slither of his finger nail hurtling through the air. ‘How do you think I felt?! I’m his only child and he wouldn’t cough up a few hundred quid to help me. He was happy to leave me rot in prison. What sort of man turns his back on his son?’

‘But this wasn’t the first time you’d turned to your father for money, was it, Andrew? We’ve been through his bank statements and your prison record and Mr Wade posted bail on your behalf on a number of occasions.’

‘So?’ Andrew really didn’t appear to understand that this was anything unusual.

‘So, according to your mother, you had promised to get clean on a number of occasions.’

‘It’s not that easy. They never tried to understand. He was my dad. He should have helped me.’ Andrew had gone from being aggressive to being defensive. His excuses were not convincing or original. Palmer and Barrett had dealt with plenty of addicts over the years and Andrew Wade was no different to the others.

‘My client has written this statement.’ The solicitor pushed the paper across to Palmer but Barrett snatched it up and ran his eye over it.

‘Why didn’t you tell us this before?’ Barrett lowered the document and spoke through gritted teeth.

‘I’d forgot. I was upset. My dad was dead.’ He spoke with almost no conviction. ‘Check. If you check with the landlord, you’ll see I’m telling the truth.’

Palmer put out his hand for the statement and Barrett passed it over for him to read. It seemed that Andrew Wade had gone over to The Black Bull for a lock-in on the evening his father was murdered. Wade claimed he’d been under the influence of crystal meth and alcohol that evening and the memory had been a blur. Not wanting to admit this to the police at the time he was first interviewed by them, he pretended he’d been home alone instead. It would have been a breach of his bail conditions anyway, so he’d been keen to keep it hidden.

‘When did this memory return?’ Palmer put the signed document down and looked across the table flatly at Andrew.

‘After the accident.’ He rubbed his head. ‘But by then I’d already done a runner, hadn’t I.’