‘It could be,’ she said. ‘You’d be surprised, though, at the many strange ways people deal with grief. If the man’s parents committed suicide, the shock of that could have led to a reaction that strikes you or me as odd. But he’s not alone. There are so many people who, when loved ones die, won’t throw out their clothes and belongings and yes, sometimes they even keep their rooms exactly as they were before they died. Leaving out the clothes is peculiar but again, it might just be a symptom of a mind greatly disturbed by sudden loss. It seems strange to you because of the context in which you were searching his house but he could just be in denial.

‘Of course, serial killers are extremely sick individuals. If it is Carney, who knows what games he plays with his victims? We don’t know why he keeps the women so long – it might be that he’s making them take on the role of his mother.’

‘Ray said it reminded him of – what’s it called, Ray? Psycho, that was it. Norman Bates.’

‘Darling, you do know that’s a film, right?’ Linda snorted. ‘Sorry, I’m being facetious. Many movies about serial killers are based on real-life killers. Look, I’m due to give a lecture now, but I’ll rush it and get to headquarters straight after. I’ll brief you on what to ask and watch in on your interview with Carney. See if he gives anything away.’

But according to Michael, Vincent wouldn’t be giving them anything.

‘Where’s Laura?’ Ray asked.

‘She’s on a call,’ said Michael. ‘Said she had to follow up on something from Cork.’

Ray had been hoping to see her. During their quick call earlier he’d heard real concern in her voice (she’d even got round to asking after Tom). He’d mentioned that he wanted to talk to her later. He was determined to lay all his cards on the table, as soon as he got the opportunity – and before his nerve left him.

‘Has Carney asked for a solicitor?’ Tom queried.

‘Not yet.’

‘Have one on standby, just in case. I don’t want to be accused of not doing this by the book.’

They made their way to the interview room, grabbing coffees en route. Neither man had eaten since that morning and Ray, despite and perhaps because of the burst of energy during the afternoon, was flagging from his lack of sleep the previous night.

‘We’ll speak to him, then you head home,’ Tom told his deputy.

Ray nodded and gulped the coffee in the hope that it would perk him up.

Carney’s hands were cuffed. He’d placed them on the table and rested his head down between his arms onto its cool surface.

The inspector placed the third coffee he’d picked up in front of the suspect.