James turned on the recorder and went through the motions of saying who was present in the room. After that it was the lawyer who spoke first.

Christian Lee was an old hand at this. He’d been a brief for years and had a commanding presence. He was somewhere in his late forties with prominent cheekbones and bushy hair peppered with grey.

‘I’d like to make clear at the outset that Mr O’Connor bitterly regrets striking that detective last evening,’ Lee said. ‘If the matter proceeds to court he will argue that he was under extreme duress at the time and hit out in a panic when he felt threatened.’

James turned straight to O’Connor, and said, ‘Why did you feel threatened, Mr O’Connor? You’d already told me that you had nothing to do with what happened at Oaktree Farm. So, was it because there was something in your house that you didn’t want my officers to find?’

O’Connor didn’t respond for several seconds, his eyes fixed on his hands, which were joined together on the table.

It was clear to James that he wasn’t sure what to say because he didn’t know if the search team had found anything in his house.

When eventually he looked up and spoke, his voice was dry and hoarse.

‘I’ve got nothing to hide, Inspector. I made that clear to you last night. I didn’t see why I should just let the police invade my privacy. That detective was aggressive, and he grabbed me first. I reacted instinctively. But for what it’s worth you can tell him that I’m sorry.’

James gestured for DC Abbott to open the folder she’d brought in with her. She did so and took out a photograph of Mary Bateman’s jewellery box, which she placed face up on the table.

‘For the benefit of the tape Mr O’Connor is being shown a photograph marked exhibit number two,’ she said.

James waited a second before saying, ‘Do you recognise that, Mr O’Connor? Or are you going to pretend that you’ve never seen it before?’

O’Connor clamped his top lip between his teeth as he looked down at the photo. When he saw what it was, he closed his eyes and dragged in a long breath.

The solicitor picked it up and said, ‘So, what’s the relevance of this?’

James shrugged. ‘Well since your client seems to have lost his voice, I’ll tell you. That jewellery box and its contents belonged to Mrs Mary Bateman, who as you know was killed on Christmas Eve along with her husband and daughter. Her name is embossed on the box and inscribed on a piece of the jewellery. The question is, what was it doing in your client’s bedroom drawer?’

O’Connor’s eyes sprang open and he started blinking rapidly while shaking his head.