‘Is that what you believe?’

‘I believed a lot of things before I heard her confession.’

‘So you can vouch that there was one?’

‘Oh, there certainly was.’

A pity, Bish thought, and was surprised at himself. Perhaps Rachel and Violette’s conviction had started to make a dent in his head.

‘So how was a confession obtained from a woman who just the day before had written a letter claiming she was innocent?’

A wry smile. ‘In the movies, the way to get a confession out of a guilty person is to tell them lies and trick them,’ Dr Walden said. ‘But the way to get a confession out of an innocent person is tell them the truth. The most damaging truth for Noor LeBrac was that her husband was dead. I was there when they told her that Etienne LeBrac had thrown himself off a clliff at Malham Cove and left their daughter on her own. Then, a reminder that her mother was rotting in jail with stage four cancer. And that her uncle, the proud patriarch of the Sarraf family, was reduced to cleaning the shit off the toilets in Lewes prison. They taunted her with the fact that her eighteen-year-old brother was being raped in Belmarsh prison. They convinced her that only she could make things right for her family, and that by refusing to admit her guilt she was causing them insurmountable pain.’

Bish fought the images conjured up by all this.

‘And what did she say to that?’ he asked. He knew that Owen Walden’s response was going to challenge everything he had come to believe for the past thirteen years.

The doctor didn’t reply for a long time.

‘If you were there for the confession, Dr Walden, you would have witnessed her reaction?’ Bish pressed, trying to control the shake of his hand under the scrutiny of the other man.

‘I was a bit busy,’ the doctor said softly. ‘I was delivering a baby, Chief Inspector Ortley.’

Bish felt the next breath catch in his throat. ‘She confessed during labour?’

Walden nodded and Bish chose his next words carefully. ‘Do you believe she was coerced?’

‘Is there a difference between belief and certainty?’

It was a rhetorical question, but Bish nodded all the same.

‘Then no, I don’t believe she was coerced, I’m certain of it.’

When Owen Walden walked him to his car he removed the parking fine from under the wipers and handed it to Bish without a word.

‘Why is it that you didn’t reveal what you know before now?’ Bish asked, hoping he didn’t sound judgemental.

‘Because I was a coward. Wasn’t frightened for my life, of course. But I had no doubt that if I went on a Noor LeBrac campaign they wouldn’t hesitate to trump up a bogus malpractice suit.’ He was pensive a moment. ‘I did go and see her a couple of years later and convinced her that if she went for an appeal, I’d testify. She was grateful. Excited. A few ambitious QCs had expressed interest in taking it on.’ The old doctor shook his head in regret. ‘Bad timing. It was July 2005.’