‘We’ll be checking out your statement. Until then you will have to remain in custody at Her Majesty’s pleasure.’ Barrett’s lips tightened. ‘You’ll be facing charges for breach of your bail conditions, possession of a class A drug and dangerous driving, as well as the original charges of carrying a weapon and possession of a class A substance.’ He stood and arranged the papers into a neat pile. ‘You’ve really cocked up this time.’ Barrett left the room.

Andrew looked more sullen than he had at the start of the interview. ‘I can’t help it. I’m an addict.’ He turned to Palmer hoping for a glimpse of understanding.

‘Then I suggest you use this next stint in prison to get clean,’ Palmer said standing and started to follow his boss out of the room. ‘Do it for your mother.’ Palmer stopped and turned to face the man. ‘She deserves better than this. It’s time to grow up, Andrew.’

In the corridor Palmer found Barrett waiting for him.

‘Get onto this immediately.’ Barrett shoved the statement into Palmer’s chest. ‘Let’s confirm this and move on. We’ve wasted enough time on Wade.’

‘Seems that bump on the head might have done him some good,’ he joked.

‘I doubt that very much. Lost cause, that one,’ Barrett said as Andrew and his solicitor appeared just in time to hear the statement echo down the corridor towards them.

‘Pigs!’ Andrew put his middle finger up at the inspectors before being manhandled back to his cell by two officers.

‘Charming.’ Palmer straightened his tie.

‘We need DNA samples from Shane Matlock and Andrew Wade. Get it arranged,’ Barrett instructed. ‘I want to know who Wendy Matlock had sex with before her murder. There appears to be no sign of a boyfriend. It’s likely she knew her attacker.’

‘You think the same person she had sex with murdered her?’ Palmer was surprised his boss had come to this conclusion based on very little.

‘It’s possible. We know our assailant is male.’

‘But this killer is meticulous. I can’t see him deliberately leaving DNA at the scene. It doesn’t fit the profile.’ Palmer shook his head.

‘I’ve told you before, Joe, stop watching so much American TV,’ Barrett teased, his eyes shining like the snow outside on the ground.

Chapter 17

4.30pm Thursday 19th December

Shane Matlock appeared at the station right on time. By his side stood Gemma, fiercely holding his hand. Her fake eyelashes looked heavy on her eyelids and her dyed dark hair glimmered beneath the artificial light like melted chocolate. On her shoulder was a large designer handbag, which the female officer behind reception had noticed and was sure was a fake.

‘Mr Matlock.’ Palmer appeared and approached the couple who sat stiffly in the waiting area. ‘Thanks for coming in.’