‘Motherfucker,’ Maisy hissed at him, looking all her forty-two years and then some, boob job or not.

‘The name,’ Lively said.

‘Dennis Mulanney.’

‘Dennis Mulanney, the politician?’ Graham qualified.

‘Exactly,’ Maisy replied smugly. ‘We were at his flat near Holyrood. We had dinner in, watched a movie – his tastes run to some fairly extreme woman-on-woman action – then he got out the handcuffs. He indulges in some imaginative role play. Good luck asking him for confirmation.’

‘He’ll cooperate,’ Lively said lazily. ‘Most people do when they have the option to answer difficult questions quickly and without publicity, or at home when their wife is present. The other option is someone leaking the details to the press.’

‘You really are scum, aren’t you?’ she said, standing. ‘I’m done here.’

‘We’ll need that DNA sample first,’ Graham reminded her.

‘I’ll need those diamond earrings,’ she replied. ‘They were mine – you’d already figured that out – and the receipt for them, if it was still in his wallet.’

‘Those are all exhibits. They won’t be released until the investigation has been concluded, even longer if they’re needed for a trial,’ Graham explained.

‘They belong to me,’ she snarled, leaning over the table. ‘Do you have any idea what I go through to get paid?’

‘Some idea, I think,’ Graham smiled. ‘But those earrings belong to the person named in Mr Western’s will. They hadn’t been handed to you at the time when he died, so you hadn’t legally taken possession of them. Mrs Western is the rightful owner, and I suspect she’ll be returning them and asking for the money back.’

‘You bastards,’ Maisy replied. ‘Gilroy Western hated his wife. She has no right to them.’

‘Then it was Mr Western’s responsibility to change his will. Nothing we can do about it,’ Graham said coolly, going up a couple of notches in Lively’s estimation.

‘Yeah, well, whoever killed Gilroy Western, good luck to her. He was a deviant little shite, so there you go. Whoever finished him off probably did the world a favour.’

Maisy Gunnach walked out, followed by the uniformed officer who’d been standing outside the interview room door, ready to take a cheek cell swab from her.

‘I guess that’s where the phrase high maintenance comes from,’ Graham said to Lively when he was sure Maisy was out of earshot. ‘What did the witness from the care home say? I didn’t get a chance to read the statement before coming in here.’