‘Darren, this is a police station. You’re being interviewed in connection with a murder enquiry. We have reason to believe that you were in the vicinity around the time the murder occurred, and yet you’ve failed to come forward voluntarily as a potential witness. Believe me, you’re already in big trouble. It would be a lot better if you’re honest with us now. Otherwise, things could get . . . well, complicated for you.’

Turnbull sighed deeply. ‘I suppose I knew it would come to this in the end. I was visiting a friend. A girlfriend, all right?’

‘In Foxlow?’

‘Yes.’

‘And this was Saturday night, extending into the early hours of Sunday morning?’

‘Yes. So if some old nosy parker saw me or my car, that’s what I was doing. OK?’

‘Name?’ said Hitchens, with his pen poised.

‘What?’

‘Your girlfriend’s name, please.’

‘I can’t tell you.’

‘We need to substantiate your story, Darren. What time did you leave Foxlow?’

‘About three a.m.’

‘And your friend would be able to confirm that?’

‘Of course she would.’

‘So what’s the problem?’

Turnbull didn’t answer. He looked at the table between them, torn by some difficulty that he was unable to resolve into words.

Hitchens looked at the file again. ‘You’re married, Darren.’

‘Yes, I am.’

‘I met your wife. Fiona, is that right? Happy together are you?’

‘Yes, of course we are.’

‘That’s good. We don’t like to see marriages break up.’

‘Now you’re taking the piss.’

Hitchens laid the file down. ‘Let’s get this straight, Darren. You’re having an affair with a woman who lives in Foxlow, and you don’t want your wife to know about it. Is that about right?’

‘Yes,’ said Turnbull grudgingly.

‘OK, I understand that. But look at it this way, Darren. You’re a potential witness in our enquiry. All we want is to ask you a few questions about anything you might have seen or heard that night. And we’ll want to speak to your girlfriend to corroborate your story, as I said. And that will be it. Provided it all checks out, we’ll thank you for helping us with our enquiries, and there won’t be any need for us to speak to Fiona.’

Turnbull nodded cautiously.

‘On the other hand, if you continue to refuse to account fully for your movements that night, we’ll be obliged to ask questions about your background and circumstances, find out who your associates are . . . Your wife would be the obvious place to start.’

‘I hear what you’re saying.’ Turnbull hung his head. ‘Would I have to go to court to give evidence?’

‘That depends. But I think it’ll be unlikely. All we want to do at the moment is eliminate you from our enquiries, Darren. And it would be nice if you could help us to establish any fresh leads. We’d feel quite appreciative.’